29
I have this great belief that the magic of the moment can never be recaptured.—Brian May
Each holding a large cup of coffee, Rhett and Mel made their way back to ICU from the hospital's cafeteria. Rhett was also holding a cold can of Diet Coke for Lilith who refused to be pried from her grandmother's side. As they passed through the waiting room, a man approached them.
"Excuse me, but would y'all happen to be Miz Vandergriff's daughters?"
"Yes, we are." Rhett wondered if this was another doctor.
He looked to be around thirty-five and had a head full of dark blond hair.
Neither his dark blue polo or khaki Dockers sported any type of badge identifying him as a member of the medical staff, and when she noticed he was wearing Topsiders with no socks she was further confused. Wouldn't a doctor wear socks?
The man held out his hand. "I'm Greg Brandywine, pastor at Claiborne First Baptist."
"Oh, hey." Mel gave his hand a quick shake. "Mama said you'd be coming by."
Rhett held up the drinks in her hands. "Sorry I can't shake your hand but thank you for coming to see her. You must have had a rough time being a Baptist preacher with a name like Brandywine."
"My mama always said I became a pastor just to make up for my name." His smile faded from laughter to a gentle compassion. "Ladies, I sure am sorry about Miz Vandergriff. I had no idea she was sick until today."
"Neither did we," Mel replied. "She wouldn't let Patsy call us before now."
Greg sighed and glanced down for a moment. "I knew she hadn't been at church for a while, but I thought she and Miz Murphy were off vacationing and having fun. I sure hate this. Your mama's a fine woman."
"Thank you. Oh, before I forget, I have something for you." Mel dug around in her purse with her free hand. "She's got her funeral all planned out and paid for, and she wants to have it at the church. One thing she said is that she wants it short and sweet, and she wrote it all out for you."
"No wake, either," Rhett added. "Just an hour or so before the service for people to come pay their respects. And this'll tick off all the ladies at your church, but Mama doesn't want anyone fixing a dinner or anything afterward."
Mel finally located the correct paper and handed it over. To his credit, Greg didn't open the folded page to read in front of them but slipped it into his back pocket.
"That is going to drive the ladies nuts," he said. "That's what Baptist women do when there's a loss. They cook."
"Lord, I know it," Rhett sighed, remembering the miles of casseroles and pies that were trotted into her house when Todd died.
"Well, they'll just have to find something else to do.
If Miz Vandergriff doesn't want it, we won't do it.
" Greg glanced toward the door leading to the ICU rooms. "If y'all don't mind, I'll go and spend a little time with her now.
When the nurse told me y'all had gone downstairs I waited to meet you first."
"My daughter's in there," Rhett told him. "And I don't know that she'll want to leave."
He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I wouldn't dream of asking her to."
As he went through the door, Rhett and Mel sat down on one of the couches in the waiting room. Rhett put Lilith's soda on the table and flexed her fingers.
"I wonder if he thinks we're heathens or something for not going back there to pray with them," she mused.
"Don't know and don't care," Mel replied. She laid her head on Rhett's shoulder. "I pray in my own way, and I know you do, too."
Rhett sipped her coffee in silence for a moment. "You know," she said at last. "If we'd had a pastor like him growing up, we might have ended up as faithful churchgoers."
Mel's body shook with suppressed laughter. "Maybe. He sure beats that sour old pinch-faced asshole who used to be there. What was his name?"
"Brother Henderson." Rhett made a face. "I don't even know if he had a first name since he insisted on being called Brother or Pastor.
I didn't know Mama's church had a new one.
That Henderson twit was still there the last time Todd and I went to church, and I'm pretty sure he was the reason it was the last time. "
"I wish I had some clothes to change into," Mel said, ending the discussion of church.
Rhett glanced down at her sister's wrinkled taupe pencil skirt and the white blouse that lost its crispness hours ago. "I bet Lilith would let you borrow some clothes."
"Good luck getting her to leave to get them. Don't ask her. It'd just make her feel bad." Mel sat up and drank some coffee. "I didn't even think about clothes when you picked me up from work, but I'll survive."
"Mel?"
"Mm?"
"I hope you don't think I'm horrible for saying this, but I hope she goes soon. The pain she's been in this afternoon..." A shudder passed through her when she thought about the unrelenting torture now gripping her mother.
"If you're horrible then so am I." Mel slipped an arm around Rhett's shoulders. "But neither of us is. No one should have to endure that, and I hope it's over for her soon."
"Ladies?"
They looked up as Greg stepped around the end of the couch.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Brandywine," Mel said. "We didn't even tell you our names. I'm Mel and this is Rhett."
"And I'm Greg," he said with a smile. "Your mother is sleeping now, so I'm going to slip out for a bit. I've got to pick my daughter up from Girl Scouts, but I'll be back later."
"Thank you for coming." Rhett gave him the handshake she couldn't earlier. "We appreciate it."
Greg left, and the sisters stood up, gathering up assorted cups and soda cans.
"Okay," Mel sighed. "Let's go."
The room was quiet save for the faint, rhythmic beeps from the machines above Bettina's bed, and the occasional hiss and sigh as the morphine pump did what it could to alleviate her pain.
Rhett stared with numb eyes at the blip across the screen measuring her mother's heartbeat while Mel just stared off into space.
Lilith was curled up asleep in a chair in the corner, covered with the jacket from Mel's suit.
The lights were dimmed, and there was no window in the room, and Rhett had no idea what time it was.
The battery of her cell phone, as well as Mel's, had gone dead hours ago, and she didn't want to wake her daughter to use hers.
She supposed she could go ask a nurse, but she didn't want to leave her mother's bedside. And besides, what did it matter?
"Rhett?" Bettina's voice was almost inaudible, but it brought Rhett out of her stupor.
"What is it, Mama? Do you need anything?" She gave her mother's hand a gentle squeeze.
"No. Melanie?"
"Right here, Mama." Mel stroked Bettina's cheek with the back of her hand.
"Have to tell you girls something."
Rhett and Mel both protested in soft voices, interrupting each other in their desire to spare their mother any more talking. But Bettina wasn't having it.
"Let me talk. I need y'all to know that it was my fault your daddy never saw y'all again after he left."
Rhett met Mel's shocked gaze across the bed and was sure her expression mirrored her sister's. The last thing either of them expected was their mother to bring up Myles Vandergriff on her deathbed.
"It wasn't your fault," Rhett said. "We don't need to talk about him."
"I do." Even weak, Bettina's voice still held the echo of the command it always had. "Y'all need to know, and I need to tell you."
With a last helpless look at Rhett, Mel leaned close to their mother. "Okay, Mama. We're listening."
"It's just that when Myles brought up moving to Houston, I was so shocked.
We were settled in Claiborne. We had the house, Rhett was finally in school, and it was our home.
I liked being settled in a place, especially after my own daddy dragged us all over the country when I was coming up.
So, I dug in and told Myles no. But he dug in right back and said yes.
It was the first time he'd ever done that. And then he left."
"It's okay," Rhett murmured. "We understand."
"No, you don't because I'm not finished.
Next thing I know he filed for divorce. I never wanted that.
I just wanted him to come to his senses and get back home.
So I started making all these demands in the divorce papers to make him change his mind.
I said he had to give me the house, and some of his daddy's money, too.
He kept agreeing to everything, and I started getting scared.
So, then I said that if he left, he could never see you girls again.
I didn't want that to really happen. I just said it because I thought it was the one thing that would make him stop this divorce foolishness.
But he signed the papers anyway." Bettina moved restlessly in the bed.
"I never dreamed he'd do it. That's why he never came back to see y'all, because of what I made them put in those papers. "
Mel dashed tears from her cheek. "Mama, that wasn't your fault. Maybe you did make them put it in there, but not because it was something you wanted."
"And you didn't hold a gun to his head to make him sign, either," Rhett put in. "That was his own decision. Come to think of it, what if he had come back to see us in spite of it? What were they gonna do? Cancel the divorce?"
As she spoke, Rhett realized she was doing more than just reassuring and comforting her mother, she was telling the truth. For the first time since learning of her father's death, she let go of the blame she placed on her mother for his absence.
"Well..." Bettina sounded unsure. "No, I don't guess they would've done that."
"No, they wouldn't." Mel kissed her mother's forehead. "It's not your fault."
"Love you girls," Bettina whispered, and closed her eyes. "So proud of you both."
Twenty minutes later Rhett watched the blips on the heart monitor falter, jump, and then flatten out to a straight line.