Caged(28)

"In and out. Jennifer and Brandi were here talking with her earlier . . . Now she's not responding."

Molly had to hold her tongue. Why hadn't they called her?

Beside the point now.

"I'll leave Denver within the hour." Driving straight through would be faster than waiting for a flight to Omaha from DIA and then renting a car to get to her small hometown outside of Norfolk.

"I'll tell her you're coming. I know she'll hold on until then."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "See you soon."

After she hung up, she sent out a silent plea. Please, Grams, hang on until I can see you one last time.

One last time.

Sobs racked her whole body. Tears streamed down her face. She rocked, trying to calm herself, holding her pillow to her chest to try to keep her heart from hurting.

Get a handle on your sorrow, girl, and get a move on. There'll be plenty of time for crying later.

Hearing Grams's voice gave her the push she needed. She dragged herself into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face helped the blotchiness but did little to reduce the swelling in her eyes. She swept her toiletries into a travel bag. As she stared at her closet, she couldn't decide what to bring. Annoyed with her indecision, she pulled random clothes off hangers and dropped them into the suitcase at her feet.

Packed, she rolled her suitcase into the living room. She snagged the cords for her various electronics and shoved them into the outside pocket of the suitcase.

Now what?

Let people know she'd be gone. She'd text Amery and Presley in the morning. No reason to freak them out now. Her finger hovered over Deacon's name. Should she call him? He hadn't left here long ago. He'd probably still be up.



       
         
       
        

And what will you say to him? When you don't even know what's going on?

Good point. Besides, he'd warned her that he didn't do family shit. And her family shit was about to get real shitty, real fast.

Car loaded, gas tank full, a six-pack of Red Bull on the passenger's seat, Molly pulled onto I-80 going east. She'd be in her Nebraska hometown in roughly eight hours.

During the long-ass hours in the car, she wondered if this was the last time she'd ever make this drive. With her grams gone, she'd have no reason to go back.





CHAPTER EIGHT



THE last thirty hours seemed like a bad dream.

The only bright spot was her grandma had come to for a few minutes.

"You're here, sweet girl."

"Don't I always turn up when you least expect it?"

"Yes." A long pause. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." Molly rubbed her thumb across her grandmother's hand, the paper-thin skin a bluish white, not the chafed red she knew so well. "I love you, Grams."

"You're a good girl, Molly."

That was their last conversation.

She'd felt her grandma fading further away. She and Uncle Bob stayed by her side in silence, until she slipped her earthly bonds, freed from pain.

Molly shook herself and fished out her house key as she started up the sidewalk to the farmhouse she'd grown up in. Flowers bloomed in pots on the porch. The rug from the kitchen hung over the railing. The place had the aura of waiting for the owner to return.

The front door stuck, forcing her to throw her shoulder into it. After it opened, she decided to leave it open, and entered the house. Immediately, a lifetime of familiar scents engulfed her. The persistent mustiness. The faint aroma of coffee. The pungent scent of Spic and Span cleaner.

She didn't venture very far into the house. Just to the window that overlooked the garden. She must've been lost in thought, because she didn't hear them come in.

"We were surprised you could tear yourself away from the all-you-can-eat buffets in Denver to come back here," Jennifer sneered.

Molly schooled her features before she faced her cousins. "I should be grateful you held your tongues while we were at the hospital. I'm guessing your stab at civility is over?"

Jennifer and Brandi exchanged confused looks.

They weren't the sharpest pencils in the drawer. "Is Uncle Bob with you?"

"No. He's meeting with the funeral director."

"Alone? Why didn't you go with him?"

"Because he told us to look after you." 

Great.

"You had one of those stomach-shrinking surgeries, didn't you?" Jennifer said.

"That's what you want to talk about?"

"She's not denying it," Brandi pointed out.

Molly closed her eyes and counted to five. "Can you please, for once, act like adults?"

"Excellent suggestion."

They were all surprised by Reverend Somers's sudden appearance.