Then Came Love (12 page)

* * *

It was late by the time they got home; Loon Lake seemed like a lifetime ago. Amanda went upstairs to change and unpack. She paused at the doorway to their bedroom and looked at the king-sized bed. How could she manage to share the bed with Vince? Especially now, when all she could think of was Jackson. She regretted that she hadn’t made love with him, even though she knew it was wrong. Regretted that she hadn’t experienced the feel of his hands caressing her body, hadn’t responded by running her hands over his muscled torso. It was almost more than she could bear...and yet she had to do what she knew was right, for Gran as well as for her own peace of mind. She changed quickly and went back downstairs to see if Vince wanted her to prepare something to eat.

He was closing his phone when she stepped into the kitchen. He reached for his glass of Scotch and took a deep swallow.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I could make you something to eat.” She went to the refrigerator and opened it.

“No.” He took another drink and set down the heavy crystal glass with a thud. “I’m going out.”

“She glanced at the wall clock. “Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight!” The Scotch must be taking effect; he was getting belligerent again. “I’ll go out when I damned well please. Don’t wait up.”

She tried not to show her relief. He probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway; he was already out the front door.

She put his glass in the sink then picked up the phone on the island and dialed the familiar number.

“Hello Mrs. Reimer.” She was speaking to the receptionist at the care center. Heather, her usual contact didn’t work this late. “Mrs. Scott had a comfortable day.” She paused. “Are you at home now?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you for asking. I’ll be in tomorrow.”

“All right. I’ll make a note of that. Good night.”

Amanda hung up the phone and stared at it. Her cell was in Vince’s Hummer. She must remember to get it as soon as possible. In the meantime, all she wanted was to shower and get some sleep.

* * *

The bedside phone rang and Amanda came instantly awake. She looked at the clock. Four thirty, and she was home in her own bed. She picked it up, fearing the worst.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Reimer? This is the night nurse at Capilano Hospice House.”

Amanda’s heart began to thud.

“Your grandmother has had another massive stroke. I’m sorry but we don’t think she has long to live.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can get a cab.” She dialed a taxi, threw on some clothes and was outside standing at the end of the driveway as the cab pulled up.

When she arrived at the facility the nurse was at the door to meet her.

“Come, I’ll take you to her.”

“She’s not in her room?”

“No. We’ve moved her to a special room. We know she doesn’t want to be resuscitated, but it’s normal procedure.”

Amanda nodded. She didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t too late.

The room was softly lit. She entered slowly, surprised by the change in her grandmother over the few days she’d been away. Gran’s skin was pale; her bones stood out starkly beneath her skin. Her breathing was so shallow that at first Amanda thought she was gone.

“Is she breathing?” She’d read up on what to expect and thought that all dying people made a loud, rattling sound.

“Just barely.” The nurse on duty looked at her kindly. “You can touch her if you like.”

Amanda picked up her grandmother’s hand. The hand that had guided her through years of growing up, and had always been there as a steadying influence. She lowered her head so that her mouth was next to her grandmother’s ear. “I love you, Gran,” she whispered. Her grandmother raised her eyebrows a fraction and then took her last breath.

Amanda turned to the nurse. “I think she’s stopped breathing.”

“Excuse me.” The nurse picked up her grandmother’s wrist and held it for a moment, then lifted an eyelid and looked into her eyes. “You’re right, but Doctor Bennett is here for another resident, I’ll have him pronounce.”

Amanda looked down at her grandmother. She was too numb to feel anything and wondered if that was normal. “What do I do now?” she asked.

“I’ll take you back to the office. Mrs. Simmons came in early this morning. As you know, we have Mrs. Scott’s instructions on file and we have a standard list of things to be done. We can help you with most of them, if you like.”

Amanda sat in Mrs. Simmons’ office and stared at the sheaf of papers in her hand. When she’d brought her grandmother to the care facility, she’d been aware that the woman who raised her would eventually die. Maybe she’d been in denial, because she’d treated it like a distant possibility. And now she was faced with reality...instructions written in clear, unemotional terms. They were a manifestation of her grandmother’s love. Ruby Scott hadn’t wanted her granddaughter to face unpleasant decisions when the time came.

She set the papers down on the desk, aligning them carefully with the edge of the desk. She looked up and tried to focus. Someone had brought in a cup of coffee; it sat steaming on the desk, along with a small tray containing cream and sugar. She lifted the cup to her lips but couldn’t drink.

“Is there something wrong with me that I’m not crying?” She set the cup in the saucer and didn’t wait for a reply. She motioned to the papers. “This might sound odd, but I didn’t read all of this when I brought it in. Gran had it in an envelope with a note indicating that it was instructions for the nursing home as to what to do when she died.” She looked vaguely around the room and then brought her attention back to the woman on the other side of the desk. “I didn’t even read it,” she repeated.

The woman met her gaze squarely. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary here, thanks to your grandmother.” She frowned. “Except for this one thing.”

“What’s that?” Amanda leaned forward.

“Your grandmother doesn’t want a church service, or a memorial service.” She paused and read a few more lines. “She’s rather adamant about that.”

Amanda thought back to the few times Gran had come home from a funeral. She’d deemed them a waste of time and money. One day when she came home she was almost breathing fire. “I knew Frances most of my life and I don’t need some minister to tell me what a good person she was. I’d rather remember her in my own way.” She’d taken off her hat, tossed her gloves in it and placed it on the shelf in the hall closet, where it remained between such occasions. “Funerals aren’t about the person who died, they’d about the family. Don’t get me wrong; they’re allowed to grieve however they want but when my time comes, I don’t want a circus.”

Amanda smiled, remembering the tirade. “She didn’t have much use for them” she said quietly. “I’ll honor her wishes.”

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. Vince offered no support and even less sympathy, so she took some of the money she had saved from the cash he’d given her and went to Lloyd Watson, Gran’s lawyer. It wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to ensure that everything was done properly and according to her grandmother’s wishes.

“You know you’re your grandmother’s only beneficiary.” He looked up from some papers.

“She did mention that, yes.” It wasn’t something Amanda had ever considered.

“She owns that property in Kerrisdale.” He raised his eyebrows. “It’s worth quite a bit of money. And then there are her investments.”

“I’m not really interested.”

He looked up, and a flash of annoyance crossed his features. “I’ve known your grandmother for a long time, and she was careful with her money so that you’d have something to inherit.” He sat back, tossed his pen on the desk. “I can see that it’s too soon to discuss this, so I tell you what. When you’ve had time to absorb it all and catch up on your sleep, come back to see me. I’ll refer you to a new investment advisor if you like or you can continue on with the firm that handled things for your grandmother.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I understand.” He peered at her over his reading glasses. “You look like a good stiff wind would blow you over. When was the last time you had something to eat?”

“I don’t know.” She tried to think. “Yesterday morning, I think. I had a piece of toast.”

He shuffled the papers and returned them to the file. “This will keep. We’ve done everything legally required at this point. There’s no real time limit on the rest but I’d like to see you at least by the end of September. Okay?”

“Okay.” She offered her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Watson. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome, young lady.” He showed her out.

Amanda was surprised to see Vince’s vehicle in the driveway when she got home. Maybe he was finally going to be supportive. She paused outside the massive front door; she didn’t really want his support now. What she wanted was some peace and quiet; to crawl into her bed and sleep. She opened the door.

“I’m home” she called out. The words hung in the air, unanswered.

“Are you home?” She walked through to their bedroom. Vince was tossing underwear into an overnight bag. She noted his two-suiter hanging on the back of the door. “Are you going somewhere?”

He glanced up and then walked into the bathroom. “Isn’t that obvious? I’m leaving in the morning.” He came out with some toiletries and tossed them into the bag. “Where have you been, anyway?”

She looked at him for a moment before answering. What had happened to the man she’d married? She didn’t know this stranger. “I was taking care of paperwork with Gran’s lawyer.”

“Well that’s something at least. The old broad cost me an arm and a leg.” His eyes narrowed. “Did she leave you anything? No, I suppose not.”

Amanda
would not
let him see her cry. “I don’t know. I was just making sure that all the paperwork is completed properly.”

“Typical,” he grunted. “I must have been crazy to marry you.”

“Why did you marry me, Vince?” She kept her voice deceptively mild.

“Because you had a hot body and you wouldn’t sleep with me.” He looked her up and down. “At least you used to have a hot body. Nowadays you’re skin and bones.”

Amanda flinched inwardly. “You’ve never loved me, have you?” It occurred to her now that he’d never said those words.

His lip curled. “Love! You must be kidding.” He came close and the scent of his cologne almost gagged her. “Love is not a commodity I deal in. There’s no room for love in my life.” He picked up his bag, slung the two-suiter over his shoulder and headed for the front door.

“You’re leaving now? I thought you said you were leaving in the morning.”

He stood framed in the doorway. “I am.” He offered no further explanation.

Amanda took a deep breath. “Is there someone else, Vince? Do you have another woman?”

“What do you think?” His eyes glittered; he was enjoying this. “Have you looked at yourself recently? You’re nothing more than tits on a stick.” He turned and walked away.

Amanda watched him climb into the Hummer and pull out of the driveway. She’d been holding her breath and released it slowly, surprised that his words hadn’t hurt. She closed the door, locked it securely and crawled into bed, where she fell soundly asleep.

* * *

It took a moment for Amanda to orient herself when she woke up the next morning. ‘
I’m at home
,’ she thought, ‘
and Gran’s no longer here.
’ Tears welled up in her eyes and she let them fall. She crawled out of bed, walked to the window and pulled back the block-out drapes. Gran had loved mornings. She’d come into Amanda’s room and pull back the curtains with a cheerful remark to start the day.