Chapter 34
Cora
"I trust your judgment, Cora. I always have."
I turn my head to look at Faye. The sincerity in her words isn't what makes me pause. It's the fact that we're trying to decide between sandwiches or salads for lunch that confuses me because of her tone.
This isn't that big of a deal, but from the sound of her voice, it's like I asked her about paint colors for her bedroom or something even more serious like what color Sadie's casket should be.
It's Monday, and I called into work even though today was the day I had planned on going back when I took my leave last week to go to DC. Alice didn't seem concerned that I wouldn't be returning, and it left me considering that maybe I don't have to be as hands-on involved with Chapter One as I have been for years in order for it to operate like normal. It's a slap to the face for all the hours I've logged at the office, but that's my own issue to deal with. I can't fault Alice for being able to do what I've done in fewer hours in a more efficient manner.
Maybe it is time for a change.
"I think sandwiches," I tell her as I shift things around in the refrigerator to find the items needed to make the meal.
I pull out turkey, pre-cooked bacon, a tomato, and a bag of lettuce that states on the package that it's organic. But I know it has been in here since before I left for DC and it hasn't so much as wilted, making me question the validity of the claim on the packaging.
I haven't mentioned Sadie again and neither has she. I honestly think that she doesn't remember that a man came to the house two evenings ago and announced that the younger Preston daughter was deceased, and selfishly, I can't go through her hearing it again for the first time.
As often as I've considered speaking with her about getting her some help here at the house, I've also avoided it. She's a very independent woman, and I know it's going to be an argument, one I just can't handle right now.
But, it's not like I have plans to go very far from home, so I can keep an eye on her until we get through Sadie's burial and everything that entails before focusing on the next issue.
"Can you get the bread for me?" I ask as I pull out the cutting board so I can slice the tomato.
"We have no bread," she says as she lifts her glass of whiskey to her mouth.
"Of course we have bread," I argue, coming around the end of the counter and going into the pantry.
But alas, there's no bread on the shelf which is crazy because Eddie joked about the brand I used when we made breakfast a few days ago, and it was a new loaf.
"No bread," I mutter as I leave the pantry.
"Told you."
I pull in a deep breath. She could've mentioned there being no bread when we were deciding between sandwiches and salads for lunch.
"I'll have to make a trip to the grocery store," I say as I leave the produce out on the counter. Many of the ingredients I needed for the salad I was going to include on our sandwiches, so I guess it's not that much wasted time.
"Can you grab me a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black?"
I stare at her, but really the woman has made it to her late eighties with her daily alcohol consumption. I don't really see a point in arguing with her about her health now. Besides, it would be a waste of breath.
She convinced me once when I was trying to stop drinking sodas that she would stop drinking whiskey in solidarity. When I ran into her in the hallway on day five late at night because I was restless and feeling horrible from the lack of caffeine, she argued with me about the scent of whiskey on her breath. She had the nerve to tell me I was projecting and I should see someone about my issues.
Looking back now, I can laugh about it, but I think she suffered worse withdrawals from the lack of alcohol than I did from caffeine and sodas. Plus, I just replaced my caffeine with coffee, and haven't looked back. It's been five years, not long after Dad's heart attack since I've had a soda.
"I can get you some whiskey," I tell her. "What else do we need?"
"That brother of yours also threw all the condiments into the trash when he was here," she says looking like she's been mad about it for years but is only just now mentioning it.
"William?"
"Christopher. Don't you remember?"
I tilt my head, and then I'm struck with sadness. Chris was caught when he was younger throwing food away because he learned about food dyes and the problems they can cause. That was a lifetime ago it seems, but maybe it was just yesterday for poor Faye.
"I'll grab condiments," I say with a smile. "Anything else?"
She looks up and off to the side as if she's really giving it some thought, but she drops her eyes back down to her glass of whiskey before saying another word.
Have I been so out of touch with what's going on around here that I've missed what's going on with her?
And then it dawns on me. "Where's Petal?"
I haven't seen the cat since Eddie came to the house and that was days ago. I've never worried about her since Faye has always taken care of her.
Her chin begins to quiver, making my stomach turn.
"The man came and said she was gone," she whispers, pulling her frail hand up to her face to swipe at tears.
I choke down the emotion in my throat and give her as kind a smile as I can manage. The man came and told us about Sadie, not the cat.
"I'll look for her," I assure her.
"Thank you, dear. I just know you'll miss her as much as I always have when she isn't home."
Yep, this is about Sadie.
"I'm going to head to the store," I tell her, putting the salad ingredients back in the fridge.
Faye is two glasses deep into her whiskey and I know she isn't going to be interested in food, and I need some time to myself. Grocery shopping seems like the perfect thing I can use as a distraction. Plus, the boys will be back next week for Sadie's memorial, and I'll need to stock up on their favorite things. I've found that food is always comforting, and I frown with the thought knowing that the extra ten pounds on my hips I keep losing and regaining come from eating my emotions.
I take a detour at the top of the stairs and open Faye's room, calling out quietly for the cat, but she doesn't come to me, and I don't hear one of her meows either.
I back out of the room and go to my bedroom, opening the doors in the hallway along the way in case the cat somehow got stuck in one of the other rooms which has been known to happen. She'll turn up eventually. I didn't even think to look at her favorite spot on the sofa on the way up. It's possible she's there and I'm wasting my time.
I'd like to blame Eddie and the distraction he provided that prevented me from seeing how much Faye has been struggling, but I know better. I know she had to have been having memory problems for a while to have gotten this bad.
I close myself into my room and fire off a text to Chris. Other than the text that he made it back to campus safely two days ago, I haven't heard from him.
William assured me that he had informed him about the memorial service plans.
Me: Wanted to see if you could come home for dinner.
I wait for his response, but when it doesn't come quickly, I shove my phone in my purse wondering if I shouldn't have Faye come with me to the store.
When I make it back downstairs, I check the den for Petal. I don't find the missing cat, but I do find Faye on the couch with her head pointing to the ceiling, snoring.
I don't feel guilty leaving her there, knowing she'll probably nap the day away.
I make my way out of the back door, so I can get my car from the garage. Just as Eddie had promised when we flew back to Columbia rather than flying back into DC, my car was waiting for me outside. I haven't been in it since Faye and I left to go shopping for dinner while ICE put cameras up in my house.
I took them down not long after that man came and told us about Sadie, but I've walked around the house wondering if they put in cameras that I don't know about.
I imagine Eddie having a tracker on my car, and that's how he was able to meet me in the lobby of my hotel that second trip I took to DC recently, so I drive slowly, giving him the opportunity to predict where I'm going, thinking maybe he's still around town and will just happen to run into me.
I know it's silly to think such things. The man is done with the case and done with me.
I swallow down the pain that thought brings.
I have so many important things to worry about and a man not wanting me the way I want him shouldn't be so high on my list of concerns.
My phone buzzes, and my car radio asks me if I want the text read aloud. When I confirm, I frown.
Christopher: I'm on campus and have plans. Sorry.
I hate that it's a text response and not a voice memo because I can't tell where he's emotionally at through text. I just have to trust that he's doing okay and will reach out for help if he needs it before the memorial.