Coming Home for Fall (Ferndale Secrets #6)

Chapter 1

After staying almost all night at the hospital, Sasha returned late to the sublet.

The next day, she arrived at the hospital with numerous pages of search results on David Ward—as many as the library had let her print for free.

She hoped her mom could help point out which one of the printed Facebook profiles was her father’s.

Unfortunately, Maggie wouldn’t be able to help with this task.

Overnight, she’d developed a high fever and a possible sepsis infection, so she was put on another, stronger dose of antibiotics.

Maggie was exhausted, drifting in and out of sleep.

When she was awake, she was delirious. In her frantic state, she would try to rip the IV from her arm while demanding to know where she was.

Sasha would rush to her side, stop her, and reassure her mother that everything was alright.

Nonetheless, in between these moments of confusion, Sasha was able to get a few clear answers from her mother. She found out that her father was of Italian-Irish descent and was around Maggie’s age.

When she got back to the apartment, Sasha was determined to take the few details she had and continue her search, but the moment she sat down on the edge of the bed, her own fatigue overcame her.

“Maybe I’ll just take a quick nap,” she said to herself, setting her phone down on the bedside table. Lying her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

A few moments later, the shrill ring of her phone pierced through the quiet room.

Sasha’s trembling fingers scrambled to answer the call without even checking who it was. A pit formed in her stomach. Having woken from a dream where she was at the craft store, she half-expected it to be her manager.

“H–hello?” She turned on the lamp and rubbed her eyes. “I’m on my way, I’ll only be five minutes late, I swear,” she said. She must’ve slept through her alarm, but she’d make it up to her boss. Who else would be calling her at this hour?

Wait…

It was still dark outside, and the craft store didn’t open until 9.

“Uh—hello?” The man on the other side of the call sounded even more confused. He also didn’t sound anything like the middle-aged woman, Andrea, who Sasha reported to at work. “Am I speaking to Sasha Sommers?”

Blinking quickly as her vision adjusted, she straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat before answering. “Y-yes. This is Sasha.”

“My name is Dr. Jacob McDonald,” he said in a soft but steady voice. “I’m calling about your mother, Margaret Sommers.”

Sasha drew in a sharp breath. “What about her?”

“Sasha, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but things really took a turn for the worst tonight, and she—”

Her vision blurred and her thudding heartbeat filled the empty room, drowning out his words.

She knew what he meant. Sasha’s sweating fingers loosened their grip on the phone and for a moment she felt herself stop breathing, staring listlessly as her eyes flickered with shock and uncertainty.

Swallowing hard, she gripped the sheets tightly in her other hand, as if trying to hold onto something in a world where the only person she had left was gone.

The doctor’s voice broke through her racing thoughts, but it sounded distant, like he was talking to her from the other side of a long tunnel.

“Hello? Miss Sommers, are you still there?” he asked.

She gripped the blanket a little tighter and drew in a shaky breath, gathering her courage to speak.

“I—yes. I’m here.” Her bottom lip quivered, but she bit it so she wouldn’t cry.

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Even though it terrified her to hear what he had to say, she needed to know the truth.

Maybe things weren’t as bad as she thought? Maybe she had panicked and didn’t fully understand?

Her mom’s condition could’ve worsened, but that didn’t mean she was…

She’s fine.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh and it was clear that this was hard for him too. “Your mother’s fever intensified, and her immune system became overwhelmed. I believe one of the nurses talked to you yesterday about how people respond to sepsis shock?”

Sasha furrowed her brow and tried to recall the conversation, but it felt like a lifetime ago. “I think so, yeah,” she replied. “Something about chemicals being released in the body and the danger of blood clots.”

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly. Chemicals can cause inflammation which sometimes result in blood clots. Unfortunately, this is what we believe happened to your mother. A blood clot in her brain. I’m sorry, but…

” He paused for a beat, silence hanging like a tightrope in midair.

“She—she was pronounced dead a few minutes ago.”

Her eyes widened and tears formed in them, but she couldn’t let them fall. Sasha was determined to stay strong, so she simply nodded and swallowed down the emotions that welled up inside her.

When her grandmother passed, Sasha was sad, but she’d been sick for a while so at least it had been expected.

Her mom was perfectly fine over a week ago.

How could things go south so quickly? It hardly made sense.

This doubt was the last hope Sasha clung to in that moment. Maybe somebody had made a mistake?

“Who—who pronounced her dead?” she asked, not sure if that was appropriate to ask, but desperate for answers.

“I did,” he replied.

“I see.” She tilted her head. “And you’re sure it was Margaret Sommers you were treating? It’s Sommers with an O not a U.”

“Yes.”

“Because when I left the hospital late last night—” She checked the time on the alarm clock by the bed. “Really, only four hours ago, she was fine and—and...”

The doctor sighed heavily again. “I know this is a huge shock, but when it comes to sepsis… things move fast. We tried everything, but a blood clot is one of those things that can happen without warning. Like I said, it was in her brain. I think her body was so weakened from the infections that she—”

“She wasn’t that weak,” Sasha said with a defensive tone.

Her face reddened with anger while tears blurred in her eyes once more, rage warring against grief.

“She—she seemed to be getting better to me!” Sasha trembled, she wasn’t even sure who she was yelling at—the doctor, her mother, or herself.

Regardless, it felt good to raise her voice, to release the storm of emotions inside.

“My mom is a fighter! Don’t you get it?!

! She’s been through way worse than this and she’s the strongest person I know! I’m telling you, you’re wrong.”

The doctor took a beat before responding, his words wavering when he spoke once more.

“I’m very sorry Miss Sommers, really, but unfortunately it was your mother.

We always triple check paperwork and charts before we call someone like this.

That said, I know this is a lot to process.

Everyone has their own way of grieving, but you’re welcome to come and say your goodbyes. ”

Goodbye? The word sounded foreign to her. What was the point of saying goodbye to someone who couldn’t possibly be gone?

“While you’re here,” the doctor went on, “you can speak with our staff about what sort of service you think your mother would like. We can hold onto her for a while, but they’ll go over all of that when you’re ready.”

Sasha shook her head. He had to be wrong. Not only was she unable to accept the fact that her mother was gone, but how could she give her the kind of service she deserved? She was barely making ends meet, and her mom had only a couple people in her life she might’ve called friends.

“She has to be buried in the Ferndale Cemetery," Sasha blurted out. It was the only thing that came to mind. “That’s where my grandma’s buried.”

“Okay, then,” he said, “I’ll write that down. Anything else we should know? Are there any religious or spiritual practices that require us to do anything with her body? She’s covered with a sheet, but—”

“That’s fine,” Sasha said, her voice hollow. The thought of her mother lying lifeless under a sheet was enough to make her sick. “That’s—I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She forced herself onto her unsteady legs, her hands feeling tingly and numb. “Thank you.”

“Ask for me at the front desk,” the doctor said. “I’ll be here to speak with you whenever you arrive.”

Although she still wondered if the doctor had made a mistake, she was strangely comforted that he would be there waiting for her. He had been kind and patient over the phone, so he’d likely be very apologetic once he realized that he’d confused her mother with another patient.

*

The doctor wasn’t wrong.

When the crisp white sheet was removed, Sasha saw her mother’s pale face—her body was still and peaceful, like she was just catching up on rest so she could get back to work next week. But the eerie silence told her otherwise.

“Take all the time you need,” the doctor said, stepping out of the room. “I’ll get you the list of contacts for the funeral homes we’ve worked with previously. But of course, if you have someone else in mind, you can make whatever calls necessary.”

Sasha only nodded, unsure what to say at that moment.

Once he left and the door was shut behind him, she slowly approached the bed and took one of her mother’s hands.

Her fingers weren’t stiff yet, so Sasha was able to curl them around her own hand a bit.

A fragile smile formed on her lips and tears welled in her eyes—she finally let herself cry.

*

Two months later, Sasha stood at her mother’s grave. Holding onto her slightly protruding belly, she sniffled as a cold gust of wind rushed by.

To get a plot next to her grandmother, Sasha had spent practically every cent in both her and Maggie’s bank accounts—but she was glad she did it.

Her mom never had much down time when she was alive, so Sasha really wanted Maggie to be laid to rest in a place she felt safe, next to one of the most important people in her life. She deserved it.

Truthfully, her mother deserved a lot of things she didn’t get in life—a stable living situation, a well-paying job, and help to raise her child.

Maggie deserved to sleep in a warm bed on winter nights and always have enough to eat.

She deserved real birthday parties and a working water heater.

The list was endless, but Sasha refused to think about it—it was too heavy, and her mother’s loss already weighed too heavily on her shoulders.

Ever since the funeral, she visited the grave every day, but this was the last morning she would be able to visit Ferndale for a while.

“I got a temporary job,” Sasha said to the pile of dirt in front of the gravestone.

The grass was starting to grow over it a little bit, but it still had a long way to go.

“A couple towns over. I’ll be working as a maid at a motel, but the good news is it comes with a free room.

They’ve guaranteed me six months of work, which means I’ll be bringing in money until the baby comes.

Without having to pay rent, I’m hoping to save up and get a place in Ferndale after I give birth. ”

A faint smile formed on her lips, and she drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention—I’ll be coming back here once I have the baby and I’m back on my feet.”

Sasha rocked back on her heels, half expecting to hear her mother’s voice asking her why she’d bother coming back to Ferndale if she’d found a job somewhere else.

Good jobs don’t grow on trees, her mother used to say.

But all was quiet.

“I found him, Mom,” Sasha went on. “David Ward. Dad.” Another gust of wind whipped past her.

“I don’t have a ton of information, but I’m positive it’s him.

I haven’t decided how I’m gonna approach him yet, but I don’t want to go to his doorstep like a beggar, you know?

I want him to see that I didn’t need a dad in my life at all.

Sure, would it have been nice? Does it sting to think that he was over here in Ferndale living in a big house and raising his other kids, while we were eating day-old bread from the dumpster?

Obviously. But I suppose he was never given the chance to be there for me. ”

She wiped a few rogue tears from her cheeks.

“By the way, I’m not mad at you anymore,” she clarified.

“I got over it pretty quickly. It’s funny how losing someone can really put things in perspective.

” She laughed softly. “Anyway, I think you’d be proud of how I’ve been since you passed away.

Initially, I thought about pounding on David’s door and demanding money from him.

..” Sasha sighed and kicked a small rock.

“But I won’t. I’d rather wait until I’m back on my feet and don’t need anything from him.

And I won’t go out of my way to ruin his life either.

I don’t see how that would make me feel any better. Plus, I know you wouldn’t approve.”

In the distance, she heard the faint rumble of a lawn mower. It was Tuesday—the groundkeepers usually mowed the lawn at 9 AM on that day. Her bus left at 9:20 and the stop was a few blocks away. Squaring her shoulders, Sasha bent down to place a single flower in front of the gravestone.

“I’ll come and visit you as soon as I can,” she promised.

“I should have a day off in a week or two, but it takes three buses to get back to Ferndale from the motel, so I’m not sure when I’ll have that kind of time.

” She kissed her hand and then pressed it against the cold stone where her mother’s name was engraved.

“Don’t miss me too much. Let me do the missing for the both of us, since I’m going to anyway. ”

Her eyes watered again, but she smiled and said one last goodbye. “Love you, Mom. Always will.” Sasha glanced at the gravestone again and then blew a kiss to her grandmother before she turned and walked away.