She debated turning on the downstairs thermostat, then decided to wait until after Carolyn arrived. Propane was expensive, and the delivery truck had gotten stuck on a nearby ranch, delaying the refilling of her tank.
How could she be so tired after doing so little? She sat in her recliner and put her feet up. Oh, for heaven’s sake! She was still wearing her fuzzy slippers and bathrobe! Maybe she was entering her dotage.
Slamming the recliner, she headed for the bathroom and turned on the electric wall heater. She put on her shower cap and washed, rinsed, and stepped out of the tub in under five minutes. Toweling dry before the heater, she pulled on her white silk Cuddl Duds leggings, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and the red velour pantsuit Carolyn had given her for Christmas. She brushed tangles from her gray hair. Carolyn had treated her to a perm three months ago. Wash-and-wear hair, her friend Marsha called it. They’d been neighbors until Marsha’s daughter flew out, packed her up, and took her back to Colorado Springs. No old folks’ home for Marsha. Her daughter insisted she move in with her family. Hildie tossed the brush in the drawer and banged it shut.
Standing in the living room, Hildie looked at the Russian River flowing wide and muddy, swollen and treacherous, from heavy rains. Rain hit the window like pebbles tossed against the glass. Surf pounded in the distance. She hadn’t been to the beach since Trip’s heart condition worsened. “My wings are clipped,” he’d said. So were hers. She hadn’t wanted to leave him alone, and he’d been irritated by his limitations. No more fishing in the surf. No more volunteer work at the visitors’ center. No long walks up the hill for the panoramic view of the coastline.
Now, the closest Hildie came to the beach was the wide spot on the curve of Highway 1 where she parked her Buick Regal and used Trip’s binoculars to watch the sea lions on the other side of the river. Her big outing these days was walking down the hill to the post office in a trailer next door to the Jenner Gift Shop. And going to the Guerneville Safeway store every two weeks for groceries.
How long could she manage that steep walk? She didn’t like to go when the road was wet and slick. How long before she would have to give up driving?
It galled her that Carolyn was right. She was getting too old to live alone.
The last time she had seen Dr. Kirk, he’d told her she had a strong heart and she’d probably live to be a hundred. Considering how difficult it was for her to get around now, the prospect had been annoying.
She picked up the information Carolyn had left and looked at the glossy photos. If she moved into one of those facilities, would she see more or less of Carolyn? Since Trip had died, Carolyn had called once a week. Duty calls, right up there with the groceries Carolyn brought every two weeks, not that Hildie needed them. With professional attendants keeping watch, her daughter wouldn’t need to check on her.
What Hildie needed and wanted was a relationship with her daughter. After so many years, it was just wishing for the moon. She’d never known how to bridge the gap to Carolyn any more than she’d ever been able to make a bridge to Mama.
Depressed, Hildie tossed the brochures on the coffee table. So be it, Lord. If Carolyn wants to put me away, I’ll let her. Maybe it’d be the one thing she did that finally made her daughter happy.
Carolyn hung up the telephone and turned to Mitch. His gaze slid away from hers. He poured himself a cup of coffee. “I can take care of everything here, Carolyn. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Have you talked to Dawn?”
“Briefly.”
“What’s going on, Mitch?”
“She wants you to meet her out at Jenner.”
“Why?”
He set his cup down and took her in his arms. “She’s been away from home a long time, Carolyn. She wants time alone with the two women she loves most in the world.”
“Why now? Why out there?” Pushing away from him, she headed for the master bedroom. He said her name, dumped his coffee, and followed. She felt him watching her as she took her small duffel bag from the closet and threw it on the bed. When had Dawn arrived? today? yesterday? Why had she gone to Georgia instead of coming home? Was something wrong? Carolyn packed two tunic sweaters and two pairs of leggings that coordinated with her tiered skirt. Jenner would be cold. She added socks, cashmere scarves, and a flannel nightgown. What else did she need? She went into the bathroom for her toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, and deodorant, stuffing them into a cosmetics bag.
Mitch stood in the doorway, watching her. “You’d better take a raincoat and umbrella. It’s pouring.” He didn’t say anything else, and she worried even more. He looked grim, hands shoved in his pockets.
He took her duffel bag and walked her to the garage. “Take the Suburban.” She didn’t argue. She took the keys from the hook and tossed her coat and umbrella onto the passenger seat. Before she could slip in and get away, Mitch turned her around. “She loves you, you know.”
“I know, Mitch, but given a choice, she always goes to someone else.”
Mitch held her shoulders firmly, not letting her turn away. “Don’t make her choose, Carolyn. Love the two of them the way Jesus loves you.”
“I do.”
“Maybe you should stop stuffing your feelings. Talk to them.”
“What would that do, other than make things worse?”
“You won’t know unless you try.” Mitch gave her a tender, lopsided smile. “No kiss?” She went into his arms and held on tight. She burrowed her face against his chest until she had control of her emotions. “I love you, Carolyn. I wouldn’t let you go out there if I didn’t think it was important. Call me.”
“The phones might go out. You know how it is.”
“Stay put when you get to Jenner. Don’t come back until it’s over.” Mitch shut the door as she settled into the driver’s seat. He raised his hand as though in blessing.
Carolyn had been watching the news and knew not to take East Side Road. Wohler Bridge was underwater. She took the freeway south and headed west on River Road. Wind-whipped eucalyptus trees cast debris on the road, filling the air with their pungent scent. She slowed, driving cautiously through flooded areas. She drove between hills covered with oak and pine, wound through groves of towering redwoods, root-locked against wind and rising water. Madrones dressed in red bark and green leaves hugged steep hillsides draped with fern boas.
Carolyn pulled into the Safeway parking lot in Guerneville, threw on her raincoat, and ran for the front door. Mom probably hadn’t been able to get to the grocery store since the storm hit, and now she would have company for who knew how long. She quickly filled a cart with milk, vegetables, meat, and cookies. Shelves were emptying fast. “Everyone’s picking up supplies for the next storm.” The checker weighed broccoli and slid it across to the bagger. “Good thing, too. I hear another one is coming in this afternoon.”
On the road again, Carolyn slowed through low areas where runoff had collected. Mitch was right. The Jag never would have made it. The river raged to her left, swollen and boiling with debris. The houses along the bank were flooded. How long before the road was closed?
As she headed up Willig Drive, she had to stop and drag part of an old apple tree off the road. Drenched, she climbed back into the Suburban and drove the last hundred yards. The old redwood on the corner of Mom’s property had dropped piles of small branches. Carolyn pulled around its massive trunk and parked parallel to the house.
The gate was locked. Carolyn dumped her duffel bag and rang the bell, then returned to the car to unload the groceries. She set down the first three plastic bags and went back for the rest. Shivering, she rang the bell again. Maybe Georgia had dropped Dawn off already, and she and Mom were too busy talking to hear the bell.