Chapter Thirty-Three Rosalynn
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rosalynn
Rosalynn felt trapped in a scenario of “when it rains, it pours.” Literally and figuratively. The hurricane. Her father’s terminal illness. And now Elsie’s drama.
The only way to proceed? One crisis at a time.
Stopping by the family break room, she riffled through a basket of snacks to take along for her talk with Elsie in the meditation garden.
Junk food was every teenager’s love language.
Right? Although Rosalynn suspected it would take more than some gummies and a bag of chips to level out her daughter for their conversation.
After the way Elsie had bolted out of the facility with the excuse of getting the guitar, Rosalynn suspected her daughter was every bit as destroyed over seeing Ace so frail, so close to the end of his life .
. . He’d deteriorated drastically since she’d seen him just a few short weeks ago, just before he’d entered the hospice facility.
Would he even make it until her planned return visit next month?
She’d heard some folks stayed in the place for months and others might only last a couple of days.
That notion would need to stay in the back of her mind until she reached the quiet solitude of a guest room at her parents’ home.
She couldn’t waste this opening with Elsie. One breath at a time, she willed her heart to regulate as she picked through the goodies. She added a granola bar to her pile, including four packs of gummies, a staple in her daughter’s diet that Elsie insisted counted as a daily serving of fruit.
“Can I help you find something?” Ben Nguyen stood in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against the frame. “I have the key to the supply closet. We could raid the extras.”
“Thanks, these are great.” She appreciated his thoughtfulness, especially at a time she felt her lowest. “Where’s the scanner so I can pay?”
“Everything in here has been donated by local groups and families who’ve used our facility in the past.” He opened the refrigerator. “What about something to drink? We have water bottles, water bottles, and more water bottles.”
She laughed softly, thankful for the serotonin boost of a little humor. “Thank you, but this will be plenty. We all just refilled our Yetis. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”
“I’m done for the day.” He unclipped his name badge and tucked it into his pocket. “Your father never misses an opportunity to brag about his incredible daughter. I’m glad to have the chance to meet you. And Dusty too. Would he like a bowl for something to drink?”
“Yes, please.” People often asked to pet her dog, but few considered his needs. Ben’s thoughtfulness touched a corner of her vulnerable heart. “You’re sure you don’t mind sticking around?”
“No problem at all. My son is with his mom, so I don’t need to rush out.” He snagged a small paper sack from under the counter and tossed her snacks inside. Next, he picked up a plastic bowl and a water bottle for Dusty. “Where are you headed? I’ll carry your stash.”
Her gaze dropped to his left hand before she could stop herself.
No ring. Not that this was in any way the right time for such thoughts, and a hospice center wasn’t exactly a hookup spot.
She shrugged off what was probably another subconscious attempt at distraction from all the heartache in her life.
“Thanks. I’m meeting my daughter in the meditation garden. ”
“You’re in luck. I know a shortcut.” He motioned with flair. “Right this way.”
Once in the corridor, she stole a glance at him, wondering at this man who chose to help ease the final stages of people’s lives.
The facility bustled with activity, a microcosm of everyday events, but with people cherishing every moment.
The meal cart rattled down the hall, the scent of some kind of stew lingering.
A nurse pushed a teenage boy in a wheelchair, turning into the chapel.
In the common gathering room, a woman with a scarf around her head celebrated her birthday while her husband herded three rambunctious boys clamoring for a piece of cake.
Across the corridor, a middle-aged man lay in bed watching television alone, his room bare of any memorabilia, which made her sad.
Did Elsie understand how lucky she was to have so many people who cared about her and loved her unconditionally?
Just because Seth had let her down didn’t mean everyone else would follow suit.
Dusty’s nails clicked on the tile floor as they rounded the corner. Glass double doors showcased the side entrance to the garden. Ben leaned toward the electric door opener.
Rosalynn stopped him short. “Hold on. That’s Dusty’s favorite cue. He becomes seriously depressed if he gets sidelined.”
Grinning, he raised his hands. “By all means.”
“Dusty,” she called, “target.”
Her goofy yellow Labrador launched into action, smacking the silver square with both paws.
The door swooshed open, and she rolled out into the meditation garden.
Walled off from the parking lot, the bricks were covered in vines.
Sunset cast a mellow golden glow over the space, adding to the Zen nature.
Only a hint of traffic noise leaked into the calm.
A fountain gurgled and a handful of patients sat in wheelchairs with staff and visitors. Peaceful and sad at the same time.
She pivoted her chair to face Ben and extended her hand for her snacks. “Thanks for the escort.”
“Anytime,” he said, passing the paper bag. “Where do you plan to sit? I’ll set up Dusty’s water bowl.”
“How about over . . .” She paused to scan the area for her daughter, landing on . . . Surely her eyes betrayed her. “Seth?”
Her ex-husband stood under a pergola with their daughter, the guitar case on the table beside her. He pivoted fast, his smile flashing bleached white. “Rosalynn. We were just talking about you. Who’s this gentleman?”
Ben placed the bowl and water bottle on a nearby table before extending his arm. “Benjamin Nguyen. Facility director.”
Nodding, Seth shook hands. “Seth Yates. Elsie’s dad and Rosalynn’s husband—”
“Ex,” Rosalynn snapped back, then winced at the sadness in Elsie’s eyes.
Ben cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to your family reunion. Reach out to my staff if you need anything.”
Silence echoed as he left, broken only by the trickle of water in the birdbath fountain and the quiet murmurs of the family at the far end.
One look at her daughter clued her in. Something was off between Elsie and Seth. Rosalynn shifted her full, angry focus on her ex-husband. “What brings you up this way? And how did you get here so quickly?”
“Airplane, of course, because I was worried. Things are a mess at home, and the office hasn’t opened back up. So I decided to check on my girls.”
His girls. The phrase so closely echoed her father’s at a time her heart was beyond tender. “Mom’s never going to let you stay at her place.”
Elsie nodded.
He laughed. “It’s okay. I have a little winnings from my time in Biloxi.”
Elsie rolled her eyes.
Rosalynn’s smile faded. “Elsie mentioned you hit it big.”
“Not that big. Win some. Lose some.”
The story of Seth in a nutshell.
Elsie watched them out of the corners of her eyes as she twisted the cap off the water bottle and started to fill the bowl for Dusty, only to have it leak. “I’ll get another. Be right back.”
She snatched up her guitar and bolted away from her parents like she’d stepped on a bed of fire ants. There was no missing the rise in her agitation. But then weren’t they all on edge because of Ace?
Seth knelt to scratch Dusty’s ears without asking first, an annoying habit of his, even though she’d had a service dog for as long as she’d known him. He refused to listen. Just like the wrongheaded way he poured sugar into iced tea.
Dusty ducked from under his touch and skirted around to the other side of her chair. Smart dog.
Seth dropped into an iron chair at the table, hands clasped between his knees. “What’s up with that guy? Ben?”
“You can’t seriously think I’m trolling for dates at my father’s hospice facility.”
He shrugged. “I hope you know I would take you back in a heartbeat, Rosalynn.”
Being taken in by Seth once had been plenty. “Hard pass.”
“Even if I promise to join Gamblers Anonymous, like you asked?”
That sounded a bit like emotional blackmail, and so poorly timed given what she was going through with her dad. “I sincerely hope you’ll go. For your sake and for Elsie’s.”
“I guess that’s a no to getting back together,” he said with a wry grin. The sun sank farther and two lightning bugs glinted in the overgrown ferns. “Remember when we went to Congaree National Park in Columbia?”
“To see the fireflies during their mating season.” She’d forgotten about that trip until now. Seth had researched the best parks with wheelchair-accessible paths. The Congaree National Park’s planked walking trail had gone on for miles with the most beautiful marshy wetlands.
“It wasn’t all bad between us,” he said in a rare moment of pure honesty, looking more like the charming dreamer she’d fallen for years ago.
His thoughtfulness had touched her then.
And truthfully, did so now as well. Sometimes the good memories got buried under the weight of the bad.
Even knowing they could never be a couple again, she wanted to find balance, a way to coexist in the same room during those special moments in Elsie’s future.
Graduations. Wedding. Grandchildren.
And yes, it also would be nice not to beat herself up over choosing Seth, analyzing every moment of their dating and wondering what signs she’d missed. The thought of shedding that weight from her soul was intoxicating.
Angling back, Seth pushed to his feet. “Well, I’ll leave you all to visit. I thought I could pick up some supper for everyone from the cafeteria. I won’t stay. I promise.”
“That’s thoughtful of you.” She considered asking him to join her for the conversation with Elsie but feared her daughter would balk at any change in the plan. “How about you take the van to get the food?”
She fished in the side pouch for the keys. Except she’d given them to Elsie earlier. Frowning, she scanned the garden for her daughter, then checked over in the lot.
The van taillights glowed on either side of the smashed rear hatch as Elsie backed out of the parking spot.