Blackberry Crumble (29 page)

“Oh,” they both said in unison.

They then both paused in unison as well. It took Sadie only a moment to realize she was likely looking at Jolene, who was supposed to have been picked up by her husband well over an hour ago. While Jolene looked older than Sadie, she realized, upon further inspection, that Jolene’s appearance was deceptive due to her illness. She wore a scarf tied over her head, and her skin was pallid and her face had an emaciated look to it. Wireless glasses balanced on her nose, and she pushed them back against her face with one hand. Her thin shoulders pulled inward, causing her to appear somewhat hunched. Though Jolene was probably in her forties, Lois exuded more health and well-being than this woman did; she did not look to be on the road to recovery. Oh, this poor family.

Sadie lowered the pan and bowl, grateful beyond words that she hadn’t stormed into the study with either one of the kitchen items raised over her head in attack. She didn’t imagine that would be a healthy event for Jolene. “I’m Sadie. May’s friend.”

“Is May here?” Jolene said, making a cursory scan of the kitchen.

“She stayed at the picnic,” Sadie said. “I was going to head back to my hotel, but I needed to get my things.”

Jolene looked at the cookie sheet and mixing bowl with confusion.

“And . . . I was putting away some dishes,” Sadie added before doing just that, sliding the cookie sheet and the mixing bowl in the cupboards from where she’d removed them. “Um, I’m assuming you’re Jolene?” Her voice raised at the end, making it a question.

Jolene nodded. “I had to walk around a little. I’ve been in that bed all day and couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Sadie smiled sympathetically. “I can imagine,” she said, wondering if she should share her sympathies. It seemed out of place, since they’d only just met. “Can I get you something?” she asked.

Jolene waved the offer away and took a step toward the hallway that led to her room. “Oh, I don’t mean to bother—”

“It’s no bother,” Sadie assured her. “Truly. I could make some scrambled eggs, maybe, or open a soda for you.”

Jolene hesitated, and Sadie hurried to the fridge, pulling open the door. “We’ve got grapes, some yogurt, and some Jell-O cups.” She looked at Jolene over the door of the refrigerator. “Do any of those sound good?”

“Is there any red Jell-O?”

Sadie nodded and reached for a cup. “One red Jell-O, coming up.” She pulled off the foil lid and found a spoon, placing the cup on the counter as Jolene slid into one of the three barstools pushed up against the overhang of the island. Sadie turned to the cupboard, only to realize all the glasses were packed away. No matter. She went to the closest box and unwrapped a glass before rinsing it and then filling it with water from the fridge. Hydration was an important element of healing. She set the glass down in front of Jolene and watched as Jolene raised a spoonful of gelatin to her mouth.

“Can I get you anything else?” Sadie asked, busying herself with wiping down the counter so that Jolene wouldn’t feel like Sadie was hovering.

“This is fine,” Jolene said. “Thank you.” Sadie wiped the counters some more until Jolene finally broke the silence. “It’s sure nice of you to come up here and help May. I wish I had more to offer.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Sadie said. “My dad passed away a few years ago, so I understand the difficulty of . . . putting . . . things . . . in order.” She swallowed and berated herself for talking about death to a woman who was sick.

Jolene peered at her from behind her glasses, a knowing look in her eye. “Please don’t abridge conversation on my account,” she said. “I know it doesn’t look it, but I’m actually beating this thing. The doctors are very optimistic.”

“Really?” Sadie said, then cleared her throat when she realized she sounded a bit too surprised. “I mean, I’m so glad to hear that.”

Jolene smiled, creases capturing her mouth in parenthesis. “Me too,” she said. “I’m sure May’s filled you in on our family’s up close and personal relationship with cancer.”

Well,
May
hadn’t, but everyone else had, and Sadie assumed that counted. “I honestly can’t imagine it,” she said quietly. “Your family has been through a lot. I’m relieved that they won’t have to go through it again with you.”

Jolene looked away. “Not soon, anyway,” she said. “In fact, my husband and I are going on an Alaskan cruise next month; it’s something we’ve been planning for a long time.”

“I’ve heard that’s a fabulous cruise. Did you know they have midnight buffets on cruises? Can you imagine? All the food you can eat, all day and night?” Sadie shook her head in wonderment at the whole thing. “Incredible.”

Jolene smiled. “We’re really looking forward to it.”

“So, um, your treatments will be finished by then?” Sadie asked.

Jolene looked into her Jell-O and nodded. “I’m actually done with this round. I should be feeling a lot better in a few weeks.” For some reason, her tone didn’t match the optimism of her words, but maybe that was just because she felt so lousy right now.

“Enough about all that,” Jolene said. “Tell me about you. You live in Ohio with May?”

Oh biscuits.
Sadie hated having to make up details. She skimmed over the pretended place of residence and instead talked about her life and her children.

“You never remarried,” Jolene commented when Sadie finished her brief explanation. “Why not?”

Something in the way Jolene asked the question caught Sadie’s attention. This was a married woman who, though apparently on the road to recovery, had faced her own mortality and the inevitableness of her spouse continuing on. That made this question of particular importance, despite what seemed like Jolene’s intent to ask it as casually as possible. Pete flashed through Sadie’s mind, and yet Pete had nothing to do with Sadie’s feelings for Neil.

Giving Jolene the answer she deserved required Sadie to dig deeply into her convictions and the feelings she kept in the dusty corners of her past. “Neil was my soul mate, if you believe in that kind of thing,” she said with a tenderness that didn’t necessarily surprise her. Rather, the act of saying it out loud reminded her all over again of just how well suited they had been for one another. “He was everything I had ever hoped for in a partner, and the years of our marriage were the very best years of my life. I’ve found his influence particularly difficult to replace.”

Jolene blinked at her, appearing almost stunned by Sadie’s words. Perhaps she hadn’t expected such a personal answer from a woman she’d just met. Sadie smiled to cover up the vulnerability she felt at having been that honest, while ignoring the ache those words had ignited in her chest. She missed Neil on a regular basis, but sometimes the pain was more intense than others. Certainly, it was intense tonight.

“What a beautiful thing to say,” Jolene said, smiling slightly. “I can relate, you know. I mean, not to having been widowed, but to everything else.” Her face softened even more. “Gary and I will have been married twenty-four years in November. Sometimes it feels as though I didn’t start living until he entered my life.”

Sadie felt her throat thicken at the sentiment as Jolene’s comments added another layer of grief to the situation. She hoped with every ounce of her being that Jolene’s doctors weren’t feeding her false hope about her future.

“He’s a lucky man to be loved that much,” Sadie said, meaning every word. She was reminded of Pete again, about a particular conversation they’d had in regard to the good marriages they had had and the fact that it honed their goals to find something similar in each other. She couldn’t help but wonder where she was with her relationship with Pete. He’d clearly been disappointed with the decision she’d made to take this case. But then he’d withheld their relationship from his children, so she was questioning him as well.

“I’m a lucky woman to have Gary,” Jolene said. “We’ve experienced so much together, but we’ve had each other through every twist. I can’t imagine life without him.” She looked at the clock above the stove and squinted, making Sadie wonder when she’d last had an eye exam. Did cancer treatments affect eyesight? “I wonder where he is,” Jolene said. “He called after you guys left and said he’d be by to get me around 7:30.”

Sadie looked at the clock as well. It was almost eight o’clock.

“Would you like me to call him?”

Jolene pushed herself off the barstool, albeit slowly. “I have my cell phone in my room; I’ll call him myself. Thank you for the Jell-O.”

She’d only taken that one bite and hadn’t taken a single sip of water. Sadie smiled. “You bet. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“I thought you were leaving?”

“Oh, right,” Sadie said. “I guess I am. You’re okay here until May comes?”

“Gary will probably come first,” Jolene said. “How long will you be staying in Portland?”

Sadie shrugged. “I have to admit I’m a bit bewitched by the place,” she said with a chuckle. “Maybe I’ll never leave.”

Jolene smiled. “You wouldn’t be the first. I hope I’ll see you again.”

“I hope so, too,” Sadie said with sincerity. “I enjoyed getting to meet you.”

Jolene headed toward her hallway with slow steps.

Sadie looked after her and let out a breath. Life was not fair sometimes.

After a few more contemplative seconds, Sadie headed toward the study for the files she’d left on the desk. Only then was she reminded of Jolene having been in the study, something Jolene had not mentioned and probably assumed Sadie didn’t know.

The study light was off and the door open just as Sadie had left it. Sadie flipped the light on and surveyed the room. Nothing looked out of place. She stepped into the room, realizing it was likely impossible for her to determine what Jolene had been looking for in here.

The files still sat in the same tidy stack where she’d left them. Her eyes moved to the computer monitor. There were no lights on the display, but she when looked at the computer tower under the desk, a green light was on. Only the monitor was turned off, and she’d heard tapping when she’d been on the other side of the door. She pushed the power button on the monitor, and it flickered to life, showing the desktop.

Sadie slid into the desk chair and opened an Internet browser window. She went to the line where she would normally type in the website she wanted to find, but clicked on the arrow next to it instead. A list of websites that had been visited appeared, but didn’t say when. She clicked on the most recent URL.

Hillsboro Hospice. A community of caring.

Hospice?

Sadie blinked and tried to make sense of the conflicting information she’d been given. Jolene had had a treatment yesterday, and she’d told Sadie minutes earlier that not only was she beating the disease, but she and her husband had a dream vacation planned for next month. Was her research on a hospice only Jolene’s way of being proactive and making sure she had her ducks in a row should things take a turn, or was she not as convinced of her recovery as her doctors were?

Sadie bit her bottom lip, trying to imagine how May would cope with Jolene’s death if, in fact, she was sicker than the doctors said. A heavy breath escaped her lungs as she lamented again the pain this family had experienced that seemed to have no end in sight.

Chapter 33

Hello? May?”

Sadie looked toward the door of the study and pushed away from the computer. The male voice was coming from the front of the house, and she didn’t think it was Hugh. She was partway down the hall when she realized it must be Gary, Jolene’s husband, coming to pick her up. She turned the corner to see a man sending a text message on his iPhone.

He glanced up at her and smiled before finishing his note and then sliding the phone into his pocket. He immediately put out his hand and moved toward her. “Gary Tracey,” he said easily, not seeming the least bit surprised to find a stranger in the house.

Sadie took his hand and tried to return his firm shake with one of equal confidence. “Sadie Hoffmiller.” His hand was warm and, if she wasn’t mistaken, manicured. Few men had such soft hands, and she was instantly aware of her own tendency toward dryness. “May’s friend.”

“That’s what I figured,” Gary said. He smiled widely, revealing unnaturally white teeth. Considering the teeth and the fingernails, she guessed that his hair was not only colored but also highlighted to make it look more natural. His face was pleasantly tanned, his brown eyes bright, and his overall physique well tended, other than a bit of a belly that pushed against his department-store polo shirt. He was likely in his mid-forties, but could easily pass for late-thirties if he tried. Sadie wondered if he ever did. The only thing missing was a gold chain around his neck. “Is May around?”

“She’s across the street at the summer picnic.”

Gary nodded. “Right. Too bad I wasn’t able to get away in time to make an appearance. I hear she was taking Jim’s bacon ice cream.”

“It went fast,” Sadie said, still disappointed not to have even had a taste.

“I wish I could have found the time to stop in,” Gary said. “Long days at the office, you know.”