Chapter Fifteen Rosalynn
Chapter Fifteen
Rosalynn
“Brace,” Rosalynn cued Dusty, thankful her emergency room trip had come to an end.
The sturdy Labrador stood, legs stiff so she could rest her hands on him and shift from the exam table back into her chair. Even the minimal movement launched a cascade of nerve pain.
At least she’d been discharged and had a moment to herself while Lillian stepped out to phone the hospice center. Elsie was busy pumping her life’s savings into a vending machine.
The CT scan had been necessary—and uneventful, showing no injury.
Although the shuffling and stress had only increased the neuropathy pain.
She held her tongue, fearing if she spoke out the doctors would admit her for observation.
She didn’t want to delay her mother, and a hospital wasn’t the best place to wade through Elsie’s mood.
Heaven help them all when she discovered Seth had drained the college fund. Even though Elsie still had a year left of high school, she would soon be filling out college applications, which would inevitably bring up finances.
Stress swelled inside her.
At least they’d found a hotel. Or rather, they’d found a motel. Elsie had located the lodgings when Rosalynn and Lillian came up empty due to the mass evacuations. They’d even considered regular rooms, but encountered issues with elevator access due to power outages.
The hurricane—still a Category Three—was making its presence felt at home and beyond, stretching limited resources.
A knock sounded on the exam room door.
“Mom,” Elsie called, “is it okay to come in?”
“All set,” Rosalynn answered, passing Dusty a treat.
Elsie shouldered her way inside, her arms full of soda cans and bags of chips. “I would have helped you change.”
“Thanks,” she said, caught off guard by the concern in Elsie’s eyes. “Dusty and I managed. I didn’t want to hold up our departure for the swanky motel you scored.”
A rare smile twitched on her daughter’s face. “You’re welcome.”
“Let’s hit the road. Grammie’s already in the van running the air conditioner.”
“Slay,” Elsie said, dumping the treats into the canvas bag hanging from the wheelchair. “Would you mind if I help you out to the van? Push your chair, I mean. You look kinda tired.”
“Yes, please,” she answered. It felt good to connect with her daughter. Rosalynn cued Dusty to trot alongside them as they rolled into the corridor. “It’s ironic what my mom said, about being jealous of my relationship with Della. Sometimes I get envious of your closeness with Lillian.”
Elsie stayed silent for a couple of heartbeats as they wheeled past the nurses’ station.
The television mounted on the wall was set to the weather channel, showing depressing videos of home and spouting predictions of heavy storms crawling up the coast. “Grandparents are supposed to be special. Although they can be important in different ways—at least, that’s what you told me, right? ”
“Since Nana Della lived with us, I naturally spent more time with her.” She gripped Dusty’s leash tighter.
“Is that why you weren’t close to your other grandmother? Because you didn’t live together?”
That answer felt like a dodge. “Mimsy and I had a good-enough relationship.”
Elsie leaned over her shoulder, her hair sliding forward. “Gaslighting is not cool.”
Her daughter had a point. Although were understatements the same as gaslighting? Like how if a Southerner said “under the weather,” that could mean anything from a little hungover to recovering from a quadruple bypass.
Had she been covering for her ex-husband for so long she’d allowed herself to gloss over the darker details from other relationships—in the interest of creating the impression of a perfect family?
There was no better time than the present to try a more open approach for her wannabe-adult daughter. “Mimsy would take digs at my mom when she wasn’t around.”
“Well, that’s rude,” Elsie said as the sliding doors swooshed open and they stepped into the muggy parking lot. “And stupid.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Rosalynn glanced back at her daughter. “When I was only seven years old, Mimsy offered me cash for a dance camp if I would help break up my parents’ marriage.”
Elsie gasped. “You’re kidding. Who would do something like that?”
“Well, it backfired.” Big-time.
“How so?”
“I saw through her. She thought I would tell them and they would have a fight over it, which would advance her mission to end their relationship.”
Elsie stayed silent navigating down the ramp toward the van. “Now I see what you’re trying to say.”
“What would that be?”
“She never should have put you in that position because kids shouldn’t keep secrets from their parents. Except I did that in reverse by expecting Grammie to keep something from you. Sorry about that.”
Her daughter’s insight surprised her. “I was thinking more along the lines that triangulating is an unhealthy way to handle problems. But I’m fine with your interpretation.”
Lillian waved from behind the wheel, motioning to the cell phone in her hand to indicate she was still talking.
Stopping at the side door, Elsie reached for Dusty’s leash to help secure him in the van. “Do you think Mimsy cast some kind of bad mojo on you and Dad from the grave that caused you two to split? ’Cause he’s definitely not good enough for you.”
Rosalynn winced. She couldn’t wish for loyalty for herself, then bad-mouth Seth. “You shouldn’t say that. Your father loves you and I know you love him.”
Sighing, Elsie leaped into the van with Dusty and began buckling his seat belt harness. “Do you have to be so perfect right now? It makes the rest of us humans feel even lower sometimes.”
Rosalynn smiled at her daughter, her only child, who had been so very perfect to her since that first time she held her and looked into those sweet eyes staring back at her with all the trust in the world.
How could Elsie not know her own worth? Rosalynn scavenged for the right answer, but before she could find the words, Lillian finished her call.
“Come on, you two. Let’s hit the road so we can hit the hay.” Lillian’s voice trembled with an emotion that hinted the call had not gone well.
Rosalynn swallowed down the guilt over delaying them further. But she’d learned years ago the past couldn’t be changed. The only thing to do? Move forward.
Once they’d all buckled and Lillian shifted the van into drive, Rosalynn touched her mother’s elbow lightly. “Is everything okay?”
Lillian shook her head. “Just some test results that didn’t turn out as I would have hoped. There’s nothing I can do from here.” Her fingers clenched around the wheel. “I’d rather not talk about it now.”
The silence weighed heavier with each turn until they pulled into the parking lot for the Magnolia Lodge. Or rather, “odge” since the L in the sign had burned out. From the storm or from neglect? Tough to tell.
“Well,” Elsie said in back as Grammie put the vehicle in park, “it has a pool, and that’s where I’ll be until they kick me out.”
Rosalynn laughed. Lillian didn’t. Rosalynn shot a worried glance at her mother as she climbed out of the van. Best to wait until they’d checked in. She started the transfer from the seat to her chair, the traffic roaring on the interstate near the parking lot.
A voice from outside pierced through the night sounds. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Lillian’s voice.
Elsie looked up fast from unbuckling Dusty and opened the side door.
A red sports car was parked barely an arm’s reach away.
Lillian stood at the front bumper, breathing fire.
Rosalynn knew from experience the collective stress—of a family member in hospice, an emergency trip to South Carolina, a hurricane evacuation, the wreck, and the ER visit—was about to be unleashed on the individual who’d blocked in a wheelchair-accessible parking spot.
“Hey,” Lillian shouted again. “Do you see those blue lines marking the pavement? Oh wait, maybe you can’t see them since you parked right on top of them.”
“What?” The woman slid from behind the wheel, looking more than a little harried with a Bluetooth in her ear and her wrinkled business suit.
“The lines. And that sign.” Lillian pointed. “Those designate this as a parking spot for someone with a disability.”
Rosalynn called through the open sliding door. “Mom, it’s okay. We can sort this out calmly.”
The woman shot a quick glance in Rosalynn’s direction, then back at Lillian. “Listen, lady, we’re all tired and want to check into our rooms. But my car is not in that spot.”
Lillian marched closer. “You’re on the lines. That portion is to leave room for my daughter to exit her vehicle. What part of that do you not understand?”
The woman extended a long arm as she skirted past to open her trunk. “We’re in a state of emergency.” Her leather pumps clicked on asphalt. “The rules are different.”
“How so?” Lillian marched after her, the lot lights showcasing her indignation. “Would you like to explain to me how we are supposed to wedge a wheelchair in the three inches of space between your car and ours?”
“You need to calm down,” the woman hissed, hitching a paisley duffel from her trunk.
Calm down?
Never in history had a woman ever calmed down after being told that.
Rosalynn looked at Elsie and found her daughter’s green eyes wide in the overhead dome light. Rosalynn was torn between wanting to intervene and needing to protect her daughter. With tempers running this hot and high . . .
The damaged back hatch creaked open, a painful sound, before Lillian reached inside. She tugged out Rosalynn’s walker and stalked back to the thin space between the vehicles.
Elsie scrambled toward the side door, mumbling, “Uh-oh . . .”
Scratch.
Lillian started dragging the walker between the van and the sports car on her way toward the open side door, a metal support bar scraping right along the sports car’s shiny red paint job.
The woman shrieked. “You can’t do that, bi—”
“Don’t you dare.” Lillian paused, fury radiating off her, her voice rising with every word.
“Since you won’t move. And my daughter can’t get her wheelchair out.
This walker is our only option, even though she’ll only be able to take a few steps, albeit painful ones after the long day we’ve had in this state of emergency situation—”
A security guard jogged through the lot. “What’s going on here?”
“Officer,” the woman accused, “this crazy lady is trying to damage my car.”
Lillian threw back her shoulders. “This individual is parked illegally. Give her a ticket.”
The sweating security guard eased the walker out of the way. “I’m not a cop, but I’ll have to call them if we can’t resolve things. I would hate for both of you to get whopping tickets and fines, or worse yet, we end up at the station to file reports and statements.”
Sports Car Lady grumbled as she slammed her trunk closed. “Fine. I’ll move.”
As her engine roared to life and she peeled out to find a new spot, Lillian pivoted slowly toward the van, still holding the walker.
Elsie gaped, her face a mix of shock and a dangerous hint of admiration. Rosalynn gritted her teeth. Frustration—and yes, a hefty dose of anger—swelled. When was her mother going to comprehend that she could fight her own battles?
And in a manner that wouldn’t risk them getting arrested. Especially since Elsie was obviously already struggling with how to express herself. She didn’t need such a negative example, especially from someone she already idolized.
All the more reason to put the brakes on Elsie’s plans to move in with Grammie.
Emancipation? The teen needed to understand it wouldn’t be all roses, sunshine, and unlimited ice cream sandwiches at Grammie’s.
Especially when Lillian was faced with losing her partner, a reality Rosalynn wondered if her mother was ready to confront.
And with time running out on their journey, Rosalynn needed to find a way through to her daughter before they reached Alexandria. Tough to do when Elsie was already hotfooting her way to the pool, thumbs flying along her cell phone.