Darren wasn’t entirely sure what the hell he was doing. He only knew where he needed to be, and he hoped like hell she’d be okay with him showing up unannounced. The hospital was a busy place, and after asking an information desk attendant and two different nurses for directions, he managed to find his way to the morgue—far quieter than the rest of the building.
She was sitting on a bank of chairs in the hallway in a stupor. Her eyes stared at the floor in front of her, seeing nothing. He stood thirty feet down the hall just watching her for what had to be five minutes. She was sitting in a drab, yellow dress and orthopedic shoes. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked entirely too pale. She held a Kleenex knotted in her hands, but there were no tears. He knew that feeling well. He’d been in her place once. He’d felt just how numbingly devastated a person could get, and he remembered it like a bad dream.
A person could be in so much pain they felt nothing but the absence of everything. They hurt, and yet they couldn’t get a grasp on the pain enough to actually truly feel it. That was by far the most anguishing human emotion in the world. At least from his perspective. He watched her, knowing just how she felt, and he felt it. He felt every stab of it as if it belonged to him. He was so responsible for her at this point whether he’d ever intended to be or not. He most definitely wanted to be.
When he finally moved toward her, she glanced up at him. Her lips started to quiver, and her fingers clenched tight in her lap, and she let out a quiet cry. His throat was suddenly constricting, and he couldn’t swallow. He sat next to her, wrapped an arm around her, and she sank into his side. He said nothing to her, and she didn’t attempt to speak to him, either. They just sat silently, and he held her.
She finally took a deep breath. “Why did you come?”
He ignored her question. “You know what one of the hardest parts of losing Jess was?” He didn’t wait for her response. “Not having you there to support me when I needed you. I’d like to think you need me as much as I’ve always needed you.” She looked up to him, her large blue eyes glistening. “I think it’s why the past six years have been such a disaster. I don’t cope very well with life when I don’t have you in it. Admittedly, I’ve struggled to figure out your place in my life since Jess died.”
They returned to silence for a while, and he went back to holding her. When she spoke again, it pulled him out of a trance. “Do you think I deserve this?”
He turned to her quickly, holding her cheeks in his hands. He studied her eyes. There was a time when he’d have crucified her with this question. God, how things had changed for him. “No. No.” He shook his head as her eyes teared. “I don’t think life works that way. Things just happen.” He trailed off as he shook his head. “No.” He studied her. She looked pale and weak, and he was crumbling. “Let me take you home.” She sat quietly for a long time before finally nodding, and he helped her stand.
They walked slowly through the hospital, and once away from the morgue, the chatter and busy commotion picked up. They were like two people walking in slow motion as the world sped by them. Bailey looked two seconds from collapsing, and he supported her weight with an arm around her. He didn’t want to stop touching her. He’d been deprived of the feel of her skin for six weeks, and he just wasn’t ready to give it up yet, but when he helped her slide into his passenger seat, he finally loosened his hold on her. She looked up at him with her glassy, beautiful eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Bailey.” He meant it. He’d take it all away if he could. He’d endure it for her if it was possible. He hated her pain, and there wasn’t a single ounce of him that thought she deserved this. She nodded, and he leaned to her mouth. He stalled for a second, unsure if this was what she’d want, but then he decided he needed to find out. He kissed her mouth, and when he pulled back, she reached up to his lips, running her thumb across his bottom one. He kissed her again.
“I’m so tired.”
He stroked her cheek, and he pulled her seatbelt across her lap, buckling her in.
“When I said let me take you home, I meant my home.”
Her barely open eyes widened at that, and she forced herself to sit up straighter.
“No! I have to be here. She’s here, and I have to be too.” Her voice was lurching, and she was coming apart in a panic.
“No. Your mom is being transferred to Jepson’s tomorrow afternoon. We’ll discuss the burial with Bill then.”
“No. I was going to have her cremated here. I couldn’t. . .” She broke down into sobs. It was guilt. He didn’t need her to say she couldn’t afford to bury her mom because he already knew that, and he wasn’t going to force her to say it, either.
He shushed her, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s taken care of.” He held her face in his hands again, and he studied her eyes until he was sure she understood him. “She’ll be buried next to your father.” Her sobs started again, but these weren’t guilt. It was relief, and it was the best he could hope for under the circumstances.
She stared out the window for a while before she drifted off to sleep. He’d made the mistake of asking how long she’d been awake, and he nearly yelled at her when she told him. She’d been awake since the morning prior, and it was midafternoon when they left Memphis. He was glad she was finally sleeping, but he understood well it would help nothing when she woke and realized it wasn’t just a bad dream. She’d likely feel that way every time she woke for a good two weeks or more if he remembered correctly. It was going to be a long road to peace and happiness again. He wanted to be part of that journey, but he wasn’t sure he should be so hopeful.
He called Michelle when he neared Savoy. She’d already heard the news; it tended to travel quickly in their parts, and she’d been frantically trying to reach Bailey at the hospital, not knowing how else to get in touch with her. By the time he pulled into his driveway, Michelle was already there waiting for them. He circled to her side, and he brushed his lips across her forehead as he murmured her name to wake her. Michelle eyed him curiously, and when Bailey woke, she looked at him in confusion for a moment before her face went slack.
“Hi, sweetie.” Michelle wrapped her arms around her as she stood from his car, and Bailey instantly started sobbing. Her shoulders hitched and shook as waves of emotional torture hit her. He walked ahead of them and opened the door, and Michelle led her to the sofa. He excused himself and called his parents from the office that sat off the dining room.
“Your father talked to Bill. Where are you?”
“I’m home. She’s here. Michelle’s here too.”
“Okay. What can we do?” His mother sounded as concerned as he felt, and he was relieved. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He already knew they’d far surpassed him in their Christian duty to forgive her, but it didn’t mean they’d support his choice to bring her home.
“I don’t know yet, Mom. She’s pretty . . . I don’t know. Catatonic. Celia’s body is being transferred tomorrow midday to Jepson’s, and we’ll need to set up a time to meet with him.
“Will you let her know that I’d like to go with her to Jepson’s to discuss the arrangements? She shouldn’t be alone—”
“She won’t be alone. I’ll—”
“I’d really like to go with her.” His mother was silent after that. He didn’t quite understand the conviction in her voice, but he supposed he didn’t need to.
“I’ll let her know, but I’m guessing she’ll probably be okay with that. I’ll let you know tomorrow for sure. I’m assuming there won’t be too many people that come to the funeral. Maybe something small at the cemetery itself rather than a visitation and service if she’s okay with that? More personal, intimate. The day after tomorrow will be too soon, but the day after that, perhaps.”