Love Mercy (41 page)

Rett went along with her story, saying that she hadn’t really seen what happened. When the deputy tried to probe a little deeper, suspecting there was more to the tale, her granddaughter looked straight into his disbelieving eyes and said, “Are you saying that my grandma is a
liar
?” When he turned his back in frustration, she shot Love a wide, goofy grin.

Love couldn’t help smiling back. Teaching her granddaughter to lie to the police probably wasn’t the most moral thing to do, but since they didn’t know what would happen to August if the police found out he shot at them, Love decided that this needed to be a family problem. Before she left tonight, she’d make sure that every gun in the house was gone.

Though August was annoyed about Love for calling an ambulance rather than letting Polly or her drive him the twelve miles to General Hospital in San Celina, Love wouldn’t back down. He needed to be under observation, and they needed time to search the house for guns.

“I’m tired, and so is Polly,” Love said. “We just want to make sure you get there in one piece.”

“Waste of money,” he grumbled.

“I’ll pay for it if that’s your worry,” Love said.

He sat up straight in his chair. “I pay my own debts.”

“Do you want us to come along?” Benni asked. Gabe was outside, tying up things with the police, while Dove helped Polly pack an overnight case for August.

“Thanks, but we can take it from here,” Love said. “Y’all have already done so much. Thank you for coming so quickly . . .” The rest of the words choked in her throat.

“That’s what neighbors do,” Benni said, her wiry arms gently hugging Love. “We were glad to help. Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

“I will.” Then Love went over to Magnolia and Mel, who were seated at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Zane and Rett lingered behind them, sipping cans of Coke, their young faces looking a thousand times less tired and worn than the rest of them.

“Mel, Magnolia, I need your help,” Love said. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Polly or August wasn’t within hearing distance, she gave them a quick rundown of what happened.

“Lord, have mercy,” Magnolia whispered. “Y’all could’ve been killed!”

“What do you need us to do?” Mel asked.

“Search the house for any firearms and take them out of here,” Love said. “We can’t take the chance of this happening again.”

“I can help,” Zane said.

“Thanks,” Love said. “You’ll have a pretty long time to look, because I’m going to ask them to keep August overnight. I’ll be making an appointment first thing tomorrow with his doctor to see what we can do about . . . his memory problem.”

She couldn’t say the word yet—
Alzheimer’s
. If it wasn’t that, there was certainly something firing wrong in his brain. They couldn’t ignore it any longer. And it was up to her to talk to him and Polly about it. She was all the family they had now.

“We’ll let you know tomorrow what we find,” Mel said. “I’ll keep any guns at my place.”

“Thanks, Mel. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Rett drove Love to the hospital in San Celina. The ambulance allowed Polly to ride with August to keep him from becoming agitated. Love took the doctor aside and explained how August had temporarily lost himself, how he thought he was back in the war. He agreed that having him stay overnight for observation might be wise. He knew August’s family doctor and would confer with him in the morning.

So they checked him into a room with a small bed for Polly so she could stay with him. Once they were settled, Love promised she’d be back first thing in the morning. She found Rett in the front lobby, watching a
Leave It to Beaver
rerun on the television. Her face looked pale and vulnerable in the dim light of the lavender and gray lobby.

“What about your arm?” Rett’s forehead wrinkled with worry.

“I’ll see a doctor tomorrow,” Love said. “I’m tired. I want to go home. The paramedics bandaged it fine.”

Rett sat back on the nubby sofa, her arms crossed over her chest. “They aren’t doctors. What if it gets infected? You probably need antibiotics, or you could get really sick. Then who would take care of Polly and August?”

Love stared at her granddaughter, speechless for a moment. Then she laughed. “Well, you certainly know how to make a person feel guilty.”

“You have, like, insurance, don’t you?”

Love shook her head in disbelief. “Yes, I have insurance.”

Rett stood up, resting a hand on her cocked hip. “Then what’s the big deal?”

“Okay,” Love said, turning around and marching up to the emergency admitting desk. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have a doctor look at it.” After having to lie, yet again, about how she came to have the wound, the emergency room doctor bandaged it again and wrote her prescriptions for antibiotics and pain pills, in case she needed them. They stopped at an all-night drugstore in San Celina and got them filled.

Love took the first one with a bottle of water she also bought. “There,” Love said, shaking the half-empty bottle at Rett, who insisted on driving. “Happy now?”

Rett smiled without taking her eyes off the road. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

It was almost one a.m. by the time they got home. Ace greeted them like they’d been away on a ten-day trek through the Congo. Rett sat down on the floor and let him jump all over her, giggling as he licked her face. Then he ran over to Love, poked his nose on her calf, let her scratch his neck, then darted back to Rett.

“Flyboy,” Love said, laughing. “I think you might be overacting a little.”

“He missed us,” Rett said, pushing herself up from the floor. She stretched her long arms and yawned. “Wow, gnarly night.”

“The gnarliest,” Love agreed. “I think I’m going to have some toast and peanut butter before I go to bed. Would you like some?”

“Sure,” Rett said. “I’m going to change clothes.” She turned her head and sniffed her shoulder. “I smell like rotten leaves and kind of mediciney.”

Love was pouring hot chocolate in two mugs when Rett walked back into the kitchen wearing a plain white T-shirt and Love’s striped pajama bottoms. “I have a question,” she said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Shoot,” Love said, then made a face. “Whoa, I’ll never say that again without it meaning something entirely different now.”

“Does your arm hurt bad?”

“No, thank the Lord for Vicodin.” Love put a handful of miniature marshmallows in their cocoa. “Was that your question?”

Rett shook her head. “It’s about Grandpa August. What’s going to happen to him now?”

Love inhaled deeply while spreading peanut butter over two pieces of toast. “We have to talk to his doctor tomorrow. August is obviously having some serious mental and memory problems, so he and Polly probably shouldn’t be out there at the ranch alone.” She turned and set the plates down on the table. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sat down across from Rett. “I wish I could see into the future and tell you more, but I just can’t.”

They were sitting at the kitchen table silently eating and drinking, lost in their individual thoughts, when from her bedroom, Rett’s cell phone rang. She ran for it, checking the screen before she answered.

“Man,” she said, walking back into the kitchen, staring at the screen, her face a mixture of emotions. The ring tone continued its tinkly song.

“Who is it?” Love asked, suspecting it was Dale.

She grimaced. “Mom.” She watched the screen until the music stopped playing.

Love joined her in staring at the cell phone. Why would Karla be calling at one a.m.? Wait, it wasn’t one a.m. there. It was four a.m. Or was it only a two-hour difference in Knoxville? She glanced at Rett’s face, which only showed annoyance. Her granddaughter hadn’t lived long enough to automatically think what Love did: that phone calls coming in at odd hours rarely carried good news. Rett set the phone down on the table.

“Aren’t you going to call her back?” Love asked, trying not to show her anxiety. She wasn’t sure if she could stand one more piece of bad news.

Rett shrugged and picked at a hangnail.

“You should,” Love said firmly, hating how much it sounded like nagging. Though she didn’t want to do anything to harm this fragile relationship they’d started, the responsible adult in her knew Rett shouldn’t ignore Karla’s call. “It might be something important.” She rephrased that. “It probably is something important.”

Rett sighed and didn’t look at Love but continued to pick at her nail. “You forget that it’s Karla we’re talking about. Me and the sisters call her Mama Diva. She makes everything that happens sound like a Lifetime movie.”

“Well, all y’all’s lives do sound a lot like a Lifetime movie,” Love pointed out.

She raised her head and gave Love a half smile. “All y’all? You’re too much, Grandma.”

Love laughed, thinking about Cy. “Your grandpa always said my accent got real strong when I was under stress.”

“Yeah, this night sure was that.” Rett sighed again and picked up the phone. “Okay, I’ll call Mom, but I’m telling you, it’s probably a big fat nothing.”

“I’m finishing my toast. Then I’m going to bed. I feel like a wrung-out old washrag.”

“Nice visual,” she said, crinkling her nose as she walked into the living room.

Love pushed the swinging kitchen door slightly open and blatantly eavesdropped on Rett and Karla’s conversation. She could only hear Rett’s side, which consisted of many “uh-huhs” and “yeahs” and “that sucks.” Something had happened, but Rett’s responses didn’t reveal a clue about what it was. Did it have to do with the baby? Or Dale?

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mom,” Rett said. “I’m sorry.” She was quiet a moment, listening. “I don’t know! Let me think about it. I’m tired. A lot’s happened here with Grandpa August. He’s in the hospital. It’s a long story, but he’s got, like, Alzheimer’s or something. They think he’ll be okay, but I want to stay here. I
said
I’d think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow. Yeah, whatever. Love you too.”

From the slit in the door, Love watched Rett punch the cell phone off and toss it on the sofa. Ace stirred at her feet, lifted his head, then laid it back down, unconcerned about the latest human problems. His worry was resolved. His pack—Rett and Love—had been gone but now were back. He could sleep peacefully. Rett bent over and touched her head to her knees. Her soft sobs caused Love to push open the door and approach her.

“Rett,” Love said, startling her.

She looked up, her eyes swollen red with tears. “My life sucks.”

Love put a hand to her mouth. “Is it the baby? Patsy?”

Rett gave her head a quick shake. “The baby’s fine. Patsy’s fine. It’s Mom. Roy’s filing for divorce, and she’s all freaked out. He doesn’t even want to talk to her. She wants me to come home right now.” Rett wiped the back of her hand over her cheek. “Patsy’s barfing all the time, and Faith has the flu. Roy wants to marry his big-haired secretary.”

“Ouch,” Love said. “Not even original.”

She rolled her eyes. “He sells office supplies. He’s lame.”

Though everything selfish in her protested, Love just gave those feelings to God and said, “I’ll buy you a plane ticket to Knoxville if you want to go back.”

Rett bent over again, touching her head to her knees. “I don’t want to go home,” she mumbled.

Love didn’t want her to either, but the mother part of her empathized with her former daughter-in-law. When things started falling apart, you wanted your family surrounding you. Though Love didn’t want to let her granddaughter out of her sight, Rett needed to go home. At least for a little while.

Love sat down next to Rett on the sofa and rested a tentative hand on her back. Her skin was warm; her bones felt as delicate as a cat’s. “I know it’s hard, but it sounds like Karla depends on you. That’s a real compliment, you know. You don’t have to stay long, but she could probably use your help right now.”

Rett slowly sat up, her eyes damp and red-rimmed. “I’m sorry for what she’s going through, but she has tons of friends. She doesn’t need me. She just wants me there to run interference between her and Patsy.”

Love waited a few seconds before answering. “Well, you understand the situation better than I do. But I’ll help you get back there if that’s what you want to do.” She smiled, trying to relieve some of the tension in Rett’s troubled face. “And if you want to come back to Morro Bay, you won’t have to hitch rides from truckers. I’ll buy your ticket, though you’ll have to settle for coach.”

Rett couldn’t help smiling through her tears. “It was kind of cool, you know. The truckers were totally awesome.”

Love gave an exaggerated fake shutter. “Certainly something to write songs about.”

“I’ll call her back,” Rett said, standing up. “It won’t take long. Could you put my hot chocolate in the microwave? It’s probably cold.”

“Sure,” Love said, taking the hint that she wanted privacy.

Love didn’t eavesdrop this time, though she wanted to. Rett came through the swinging kitchen door five minutes later. Her eyes were dry and her mouth set, though Love couldn’t tell if it was from anger or determination. It hit Love with a jolt how much she wanted her granddaughter to stay. She had this sinking, illogical feeling that if Rett went back to Tennessee, Love would never see her again.

“I put more marshmallows in your cocoa,” Love said, turning away so Rett wouldn’t see her stricken expression.

“Thanks,” she said. Love could hear her pull out the kitchen chair and sit down. “No worries, Grandma. I told Mom I had important family business to take care of here, but that I’d come home as soon as I could. Definitely after Christmas.”

Love’s heart tap-danced with joy, despite feeling guilty about Karla missing Christmas with her daughter. She turned back to face Rett. She was using a spoon to scoop up a melted mess of marshmallows.