“You have no idea how ugly that can get. She saw you and she didn’t turn on me. She didn’t want to let you down. You aren’t Honey, but she sees you and remembers.”
I felt tears sting my eyes again. When Gran died, it had hurt. I’d felt completely alone in the world. She had been my rock in this life. What I hadn’t realized was she had been other people’s rock too. Her death had not only been hard on me, but it had been just as hard on others. Especially Lily… and Saul.
“How often does she do this?” I asked him.
“Longest she has gone clean and sober is ten months, three weeks, and a day,” he said. “When I let my guard down and don’t check on her daily, things can get bad. If left without someone to watch over her, she can end up on things worse than liquor. It takes three months or more in rehab when she starts with the pills or worse.”
My chest was tight again with emotion I couldn’t express. I sat there silently until Saul pulled into the parking deck at the Hendrix. After he parked her car, he turned to look at me. “I’ve got it from here. Thanks for your help,” he said, before opening his door and getting out.
I waited until he had mine open and I got out wanting to do something more. Help him get her to the penthouse at least. It felt wrong just leaving him here like this.
When I didn’t walk away, he ran a hand through his messy curls. “I need to do the rest alone,” he said, understanding why I hadn’t moved.
“Why?” I asked him because I disagreed. He needed help.
“Because, Henley. This is what I fucking do. Just go.” It wasn’t the cold pitch in his voice that sent me away; it was the warning glare in his eyes. He did not want me here.
By the time I reached my car, the tears were freely streaming down my face. Not because Saul sent me away but because it was all he knew. He didn’t trust people enough to rely on them. He did it himself. Except when Gran came along. He hadn’t been able to send Gran away.
Twelve
I never made it to Wanda with the photo album. The rest of the day I had spent trying new recipes in hopes baking would make things better. It hadn’t, but in the end, I had been distracted. Being back at work today was a relief. Hillya’s great-niece, Emily, was visiting for the summer, and I had spent the morning training her to work the register. She was a year younger than me and just finished up her second year at Florida State.
Her hair was a deep shade of auburn and it made her pale skin appear porcelain. I would have hated her for that alone if I hadn’t immediately liked her. She worked hard and had a good sense of humor. Something about her felt familiar but I couldn’t place it. By lunchtime, we had bonded and by three when she got off work, we had planned a beach day the next time we both were free.
Hillya had sent me home after four because she was closing early today. I would be off again tomorrow, but then on Thursday, the store was hosting a book signing and would be open late. I was needed to work the bar that night. Hillya served red and white wine along with a signature cocktail at signings. This would be my first one and I was looking forward to it. I’d never been to a book signing before.
I texted Rio that I would be home and available after six tonight if he wanted to bring the letters over. When he texted that he would be there at seven thirty, I decided to head to the address Gran had left me for Wanda and get the album delivered. I smelled of baked goods and coffee, but I doubted Wanda would mind that.
The address led me to a nursing home and I sat in my car for several minutes after parking, staring at the building. I was vaccinated, but I wasn’t sure what the protocol for visitors would be at a nursing home. I reached over and opened my glove compartment to takeout a mask. Although the world had slowly begun to become normal again, especially in the southeast, I kept a stash of masks for the places still requiring them.
I grabbed the album and headed for the entrance. There was a nurse at the door and the sign on the door clearly stated masks were required. I slipped it on and took my vaccination card from my purse to show her.
“I need to get this album to a Wanda Sellers. My gran passed away and she left instructions to bring Mrs. Sellers this album,” I explained.
The nurse smiled. “Oh, Mrs. Wanda will love this. A visitor and a gift. Come right on in,” she said as she pointed down the hallway. “You can find her right down there. Third door on the left. Room number fourteen.”
“Thank you,” I replied and headed down the hallway toward door fourteen. The resident of room eleven was sitting at her door holding a doll with brown curls and wearing a large wide smile. She was running her hand over the dolls curls and whispering something to it when she noticed me. Her head snapped up as if I was there to take her doll from her and she looked ready to defend the baby.
I smiled at her. “You have a beautiful baby,” I said.
The lady’s fearful expression vanished and she beamed up at me from her wheelchair. “Thank you. She looks just like her daddy,” the lady replied.
“He must be very handsome,” I told her.
She nodded her head vigorously. “Oh, he is! He’ll be here to get us soon.”
I held my smile and then waved at her before continuing on to door fourteen. It was across the hall and one door down from eleven. There was an older lady with pearls around her neck, white hair in a neat bob, and a yellow dress trimmed in white standing there observing me. I didn’t know if this was Wanda Sellers or not. Although she was dressed as if she were about to go to church, she was much older than I expected. This lady had to be ten years older than my gran had been.
I stopped at her door with the album tucked under my arm. “Hello, I am looking for a Mrs. Wanda Sellers.”
The lady looked me up and down. I suddenly felt as if I should have changed into something nicer than my work clothes. When her gaze met mine, she smiled. “You’re Honey’s granddaughter.”
Relieved, I nodded. “Yes, I am.” I wasn’t sure how she could tell that, but I was glad I wasn’t going to have to explain.
“He will be here soon! Keep a look out and you’ll see him. The best-looking man in Alabama,” the lady from eleven called from across the hall.
I glanced back to see her still beaming at me.
“Come on in my room. Gladys will continue to yell out crazy things if you don’t. The rest of the place has learned to ignore her. Bless her she’s been insane for a couple years now,” the lady I was assuming was Wanda told me as she turned and walked into room fourteen.
I took a quick survey of the place and it reminded me of a bedroom from the fifties A chenille bedspread with blue and yellow flowers covered the bed. At the foot of it, there was a white lace shawl. Old photos in elaborate frames as well as newer photos sat everywhere. The lamp on the bedside table was made of white hobnail glass. It was similar to those I had seen only in antique stores. A wooden rocker with a crocheted blanket the same blue as was on the bed in the corner.