Chapter 9

The morning of December 30th, we were sitting in the kitchen drinking cocoa when the phone rang. I was flushed from sex and we'd just come from the shower. Kitty was purring again, and I was happy.

Nollie answered, listened a moment and said, "It's for you."

I put the receiver to my ear and heard Sean whisper, "You better come quick. The cops are here."

I was going to ask why, but I heard a click and realized he'd hung up. We dressed quickly in jeans and sweaters; it was cold and snowing outside, a thoroughly gray and overcast day. The short trip took a bit longer than expected because of the snow, but when we pulled up I gasped. There was an ambulance, two police cars and a white car in the driveway. The sign on the door of the white car read, "County Coroner."

The police wouldn't let us inside until I screamed, "I'm her daughter! Let me in!"

One of the cops, a woman, led me and Nollie to the couch and made us sit down. She sat with us and wouldn't let us move. Two other policemen were in the kitchen talking to Sue, and I didn't see the twins or Sean anywhere. Someone was talking in Mom's bedroom, and I saw the flash of a camera several times.

About an hour later, a policeman stuck his head out of Mom's bedroom door and motioned to the officer who was sitting with us. She ushered us into the kitchen and made us face the wall, and I heard the squeaking of wheels rolling across the floor. There was a bump and a grunt as they left the front door, and the house became very quiet.

The lady - her name tag said Betty Reynolds - urged us to sit at the island, and I slumped into my chair. I'd been crying, I was angry, and Sue wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on here? What happened?" I said.

Betty took my hand and softly said, "Your Mom was found this morning. She passed away sometime last night."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt the air leave me like a deflating balloon, and Nollie's arms went around me. I cried; deep, wracking sobs of pure grief. What had happened? Whose fault was this? I felt responsible, and the waves of guilt covered me like fog. I wasn't really aware of anything around me until I saw Emily's face close to mine. I cried louder and hugged her close, glad she was there.

I remember swallowing a pill, and Nollie led me upstairs to my room. She undressed me, then herself, and tucked me into bed. I could feel her body heat, and her hand across my stomach.

She whispered, "I'm here, baby, it'll be ok," over and over until I passed out.

I woke up the next morning feeling groggy and dazed. A shower helped a little, but the house was chilly for some reason. I dressed in a sweat suit and slippers, and made my way down the stairs.

Nollie, Sue and Emily were sitting at the island drinking coffee, and when Nollie saw me she rose and hugged me. I sat down and Emily handed me a cup of coffee. I was drained. I didn't have the energy to lift the cup.

I sighed and asked, "What happened?"

Sue hesitated, then said, "She drowned."

I tried for a couple of seconds to understand how a woman in a bed could drown, and asked, "How?"

Sue said, "I got a call from the coroner this morning. The cause of death was pulmonary edema. Her lungs filled with fluid and she drowned."

Still confused, I said, "How?"

Sue seemed to settle in her seat and turned to face me. She took a sip from her cup and said, "Well, I guess you know we weren't getting along all that well. It's not a secret anymore." She thought for a few seconds and said, "We were arguing again, and both of us drank a little too much whiskey. I take sleeping pills sometimes, and after the argument cooled off, I took one. She wanted one too, so I gave it to her. I count them and I hide them, because I'm afraid the kids will see them and get into them. It was a new prescription, and I had 26 left."

I nodded and said, "Go on."

Sue said, "I guess I left the bottle out, and evidently Michelle took a few."

"How many is a few?" I asked.

"There were 22 left in the bottle when the police took them," she said. Her face was sad and depressed, and I knew she'd lost someone close to her, arguments or not. There was a guilty aura surrounding her, and her body language said, "don't you dare touch me."

"Oh God!" I cried, and started sobbing again.

Sue looked at me cruelly and said, "At least you didn't have to wake up next to her dead body."

Having said that, Sue stood up, drained her cup and threw it into the sink. I heard the sound of it shattering, and she strode from the room. A moment later I heard a door slam, and the floor under my feet vibrated.

Nollie's arms went around me and I felt her head on my shoulder. I cried for a few minutes, then realized I had to do something. I didn't know what; death was so foreign and unknown to me I had never considered it before.

I warmed my coffee, sat down and asked Emily, "How can something like that happen?"

"The combination of whiskey and pills slowed her breathing while she slept," Emily replied, "and her lungs couldn't keep up. They filled with water from her body and..."

Five little pills, I thought. What a fucking miserable way to die. My mind filled with confusing and contradictory thoughts, and not one of them made me feel any better.

As if sensing my thoughts, Emily stood up briskly and said, "We'd better go."

"I'll see you later, then," I said dully.

"Oh no," Emily replied. "You can't stay here. You'll be hurt, and I can't have that." Turning to Nollie she said, "Quickly, go upstairs and get her some more clothes. We'll be in the car."

We waited in the car for about two minutes, and Nollie came running out of the house with some hanging clothes in one hand and a shopping bag in the other.

Nollie jumped into the back seat and said, "Let's go."

The drive was short and quiet. I had no idea how to start or continue a conversation. There was a big hole in my chest where my heart had been. I had never felt so empty.

Emily bustled us into the house, and as Nollie put my clothes away, Emily sat with me on her couch and hugged me. After a few minutes Nollie returned, and took her seat next to me.

Emily turned my shoulders to face her and said, "I've been through this before. It isn't easy, but we'll do it. I want you to remember that we'll be here for you." I nodded my thanks and she added, "I always wanted more than one child. Will you let me handle things for you?"

I nodded and Emily got up and walked away.

I ate a few bites of supper, feeling listless and worn. The emptiness was still there, along with a great sadness. Deep down inside I felt guilty, as if Mom's death was my fault. If I had been in the house every day, I might have been able to prevent at least some of the arguments. Emotions previously unknown to me came to the surface of my mind, floated there for a little while, then disappeared. None were constant, and none made any sense at all.

Later in bed, Nollie said, "I won't let you go back there. It's not safe."

"What about Sean and the twins?" I asked. "Are they safe, too?"

"They're hers, and you're not," she replied. "I think that makes a big difference."

"Isn't she my legal guardian or something?" I asked.

"We'll see," Nollie replied. "I'll talk to Mom."

The funeral was held the day after New Year's, and I wore a borrowed black dress. Emily had purchased a new pair of high-heeled black pumps for me, and gave me a hanky to stick in my sleeve. The stockings were knee-highs, and I wore my parka and black gloves.

The service in the church was mercifully short. The preacher or reverend gave a quick eulogy, and I knew that he hadn't ever met my mother. There were only about twenty-five people in the church, and Sue and the kids took their seats across the aisle from me. Nollie and Emily sat with me, and I endured it as best I could.

The graveside service was worse. A dozen or so people stood in ranks around the open grave with grim faces, suffering the flying snow and cold by huddling close together. I'd put a single rose on her casket, from a display that had been in the church.

I heard, "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," and broke into tears and sobs.

Nollie and Emily held me upright as the casket was lowered, then we walked away. Several people came up and offered their condolences; I merely nodded and shook their hands. I hugged Sean very hard, and Sue broke us apart. I saw Sue glance angrily over her shoulder at me as she led him and the twins toward her car.

The next day was a school day, but Emily insisted that Nollie and I stay home. I slept fitfully for twenty-four hours, and awoke feeling numb. I went through the motions of eating, dressing and attending school, but my heart wasn't in it.

Eddie was very nice; being on the receiving end of a gentle hug from the big guy was oddly comforting. Belinda and Shelly were apologetic and nervous at lunch-time, and most of the teachers were very supportive and kind.

I couldn't control when the tears came, though, and that led to trouble with Mrs. Oliver during my second week back. I was standing on the sidelines watching a basketball practice, and the tears started flowing.

Mrs. Oliver walked by and said, "Grow up, Caldwell!"

I turned my head and spat, "FUCK YOU!"

Her eyes got real big, and she grabbed my arm and dragged me to her office.

She shoved me inside, slammed the door and asked, "Just who the fuck do think you are, talking to me in that manner?"

I didn't answer. I was still crying and angry.

She said,"Sit down! Now!"

I moved over to the chair in front of her desk and sat. She glared at me for a long time, and I kept avoiding her eyes.

Suddenly she said, "Put your hands on the desk." I wondered if she had a ruler handy, but I did it anyway.

She picked up my hands in hers, held them snugly, and softly said, "We all lose people we love. I know what you're feeling - sadness, guilt and all the rest - I've been there and done that. And you've lost someone very close to you before you should have. Change is inevitable - how you deal with it is crucial to your well-being."

"I'm sorry," I said, "it's just that I feel..."

"I know," she replied, sitting up and releasing my hands. "There will always be a little place in your heart that aches, and it won't ever go away. But you have to go on with the rest of your life. You and Nora Lee."

My head snapped up at the mention of Nollie and I looked at her quizzically.

She smiled and said, "I know about you and Nora Lee. I know about Belinda and Shelly. I also know about Sue Jensen and your mother. I make it a point to know all I can about my better students."

"You think I'm one of... ?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," she answered. "You're pretty uncoordinated and a bit clumsy right now, but you try. God knows you try my patience too, but you do the work to the best of your ability. I've never caught you sluffing off."

"Thank you," I said. "That means a lot coming from you."

"I know I ride your ass and yell a lot," she said, "but when I see potential, I try to encourage it. You may not like the way I do it, but my efforts are for your benefit."

I sat still and tried to understand this complex woman who was talking to me in such an unusual way. Normally gruff, her voice was gentle, almost motherly.

After a minute more of silence, she said, "Why don't you go back out there and try to get in the game? Let some hard physical activity dull the emotional pain."

I played a hard twenty minutes, and hit the showers feeling better. I smiled at Nollie, and realized we hadn't had sex in almost a week.

That night I took the lead and started seducing her in the kitchen by playing footsie under the table as we ate. We did the dishes and went to her room, and I hugged her close.

I kissed her and nibbled on her ears, then whispered, "I want you so bad."

She giggled, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

I threw her on the bed and buried my face between her legs. We gradually rolled to our sides, and the mutual fun began. As I gripped her butt and ate her pussy, I felt the weight of grief somewhat less. My two orgasms were shriekers, too.