Second Chances (4 page)

“Don’t forget, I’m going to work my magic on your behalf. Maybe I can find you something better than changing bedpans.” Melanie laughed at the scowling expression Abby made.

“Thanks for that visual. Now I’ll probably dream about it.” Abby punched the code into the keypad and entered the courtyard. She waved to Mel and closed the heavy outer door behind her. Sitting on the bench in the foyer, Abby kicked off her shoes. The habit was long ago instilled in her because she was never allowed to wear outdoor shoes inside the house. Only high heels were allowed on the floors, and that was permitted only when exiting the home on the way to an elegant affair.

Betsy called out, “Miss Abigail, would you like some sweet tea?”

“That sounds delicious, but I’ll come and get it. No need to bring it up to my room.” Abby entered the kitchen and sat at the small table nestled in the bay window alcove. Sitting there brought back fond childhood memories. They had moved to the mansion on South Battery when Abby was ten years old. She remembered mornings with her dad at that very table. They would have toaster waffles swimming in thick maple syrup several times a week before he left for work. Those were the early days before Betsy, when Edward Melrose was on the fast track to becoming a millionaire. They had just purchased the pink mansion, still pinching themselves in disbelief that they could live in such an opulent home in the best neighborhood of Charleston. Back then, the thought of a maid or housekeeper hadn’t entered their minds. “Betsy, come and sit with me.”

“Oh, Miss Abigail, I should really start preparing dinner. Your mother said she wanted to eat at six o’clock sharp. She has a fund-raiser to go to at seven thirty tonight.” Betsy filled a cut-glass tumbler and carried it to the table, setting it down in front of Abby. Beads of condensation rolled down the glass to the linen napkin below.

“Please sit with me for just one glass of sweet tea. You’ll have plenty of time to make dinner. Did my mom say when she would be home?”

“No, ma’am, but I’d expect her back soon.” Betsy reached for another glass from the white upper cabinet. “I’ll sit for ten minutes.” She gave Abby a toothy grin and poured herself a glass of sweet tea.

“Would it bother you too much to just call me Abby? I’d rather be informal, at least when my mom isn’t here.”

“Yes, Miss Abigail, but I’ll have to practice being informal. It doesn’t come natural for me, being a maid most of my life. I’ll call you Miss Abby if you like. When your mother isn’t here, that is.”

“Thanks, I’d really like that. Let me pour us both another glass of tea.”

At three o’clock, Abby retreated to her room to begin making phone calls. She hoped to schedule at least two interviews before the weekend and more beginning the next week. She also wanted to research what was required to change her last name. That would mean involving Charlotte, though, something Abby dreaded. She didn’t want to be called Abby Bellavance anymore, yet she had serious reservations about going back to the Melrose name. There were too many predators out there, people that had one and only one intention—to take the money and run. Abby would be far smarter than that next time around, if there ever was a next time. She would consult with her mom, like it or not. Abby was seriously considering using her mother’s maiden name. Hopefully, with her mom’s blessing, she’d change her name to Abigail Marie Johnstone. If there was another marriage in her future, Abby would be prepared—with a different last name and a prenup.

With one interview set up at Children’s Hour Daycare Center for tomorrow at ten a.m. and another interview for a server position at The Wicked Hop Brewery at one thirty, Abby happily ran downstairs to grab another sweet tea. Surprised to find Charlotte hadn’t yet returned at four o’clock, Abby sat in the backyard, feeling a little deflated. She was anxious to tell her mother she had interviews scheduled. They weren’t overwhelming opportunities, but they were jobs nonetheless.

The sound of the doorbell and voices in the foyer were enough to pique Abby’s curiosity. She rose to go inside, but met Betsy and two uniformed police officers in the doorway. A quick look at Betsy told Abby something was terribly wrong. Tears streamed down Betsy’s caramel-colored face. The officers wore somber expressions.

“Betsy, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Miss Abby, it’s your mother.” Betsy took two steps and collapsed at the table on the patio with her face in her hands and sobbed.

“Ma’am, I’m Officer Rhine, and this is Officer Bouton.” The older policeman pointed to the younger man beside him. “Is Charlotte Melrose your mother?”

“Yes.” The quivering lower lip was involuntary, but Abby couldn’t help herself. She knew bad news was coming. She sat next to Betsy and grabbed her hand. Tears sprang from her eyes as words she didn’t want to hear were spoken. She knew they couldn’t be taken back once they were said.

“Ma’am, we’re sorry to inform you that your mother passed away in a car accident a few hours ago. The fire department had to use the Jaws of Life to pry open the car. That’s why it took so long to identify her. Ma’am… Miss Melrose?”

“What? Are you sure… are you certain it was her? Could you be mistaken? This can’t be happening. Not Mom, too.” Tears stung Abby’s eyes as they rolled down her chin and fell to her shirt. “What kind of car was it? Are you sure it was hers? Where was the accident?” The questions seemed irrelevant, but she had to be sure.

“It was a black 2014 Mercedes E-Class sedan. The accident happened on King Street and Price’s Alley. A garbage truck broadsided her car as it came out of the alley. Apparently, the driver had a massive heart attack and died at the scene, too.”

“No, it can’t be. I was detoured away from that accident earlier today. I can’t believe it was my own mother.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, ma’am. Your mother’s remains were taken to the Coroner’s Office on Bridge View Drive in North Charleston.” Officer Rhine handed Abby his card and told her to call the police department to get the police report. “We’re right behind City Hall, Miss Melrose.” The officers shook Abby’s hand and left.

Shock and disbelief hung in the air like a heavy wool blanket. Abby stared into emptiness, her heart aching again for someone she had lost. She wasn’t particularly close to Charlotte, but she knew that in time, everything would have been okay. Suddenly, nothing was okay. She had nobody to call family other than distant relatives in other states. She’d lost touch with them years ago, and she was sure she didn’t have anyone’s contact information anymore. Abby turned toward Betsy, who was still crying with her head slumped to her chest.

“Betsy, what are we going to do, and who are we going to contact? I don’t have any of my mom’s legal or financial information. I’ve only been home a few days. I have no idea who to call. I’ll have to get hold of her attorney. Do you know what his name is?” Panic began to creep up Abby’s throat, squeezing her airway until she felt light-headed. “I feel like I’m going to faint.”

The backyard spun so fast Abby’s eyes couldn’t keep up. Darkness spread across her visual field. With her ears ringing and feeling a strong urge to vomit, she fell off the chair from dizziness and landed on the lawn. She woke up with Betsy kneeling over her. Blue sky and Betsy’s flowing tears were all she saw. It took a few seconds for her to realize what had happened. Abby sat up slowly, holding her temples.

“I don’t know Mom’s attorney’s name. I don’t even have a car, for Pete’s sake.” Abby wiped her eyes and rubbed the side of her head.

“Miss Abby, I don’t have a car either. Your mother said it wasn’t convenient to have two cars in the driveway.” Betsy held out her hand and helped Abby to her feet.

“We’ll have to go through my mom’s things to find out what we need to know. I have to call Melanie and tell her what happened. She’ll give me a ride to the coroner’s office. I want you to start going through paperwork in my mom’s room. Set aside anything that looks like a legal document. I have to know if she has a plot next to my dad’s… and there are so many other things we need to take care of. Will you do that for me?” Abby sounded exhausted. She had no clue how to proceed.
One thing at a time. Just get through today.

“Ma’am, it feels wrong going through Miss Charlotte’s things. She would be so upset with me.”

“Please. I need your help, and I’m giving you permission. I have to get to the coroner’s office and figure out what to do next. Set any paperwork that looks important on her bed. We’ll go through everything in more detail later.”

“Yes, Miss Abby.”

“I have to call Melanie right now.” Abby’s voice cracked as she held Betsy’s hand.

Melanie’s car screeched to a halt in the driveway. Abby waited on the veranda, sitting on a floral-cushioned chair. Alerted by the sound of the car, she got up and walked to the gate in a clouded fog, letting Melanie in.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I just can’t believe this happened.” Mel hugged Abby tightly. Words didn’t seem adequate at the moment, but showing support did. “Anything you need, just let me know. I’m here for you, anytime, day or night.”

“Right now, we need to go to the coroner’s office. That’s where the ambulance took Mom. I guess there wasn’t any reason to take her to a hospital since she was already…”

“It’s okay. I understand. I’ll help you get through this. You’re a strong woman, Abby Melrose. Don’t ever forget that. Just get in the car and take a breath. I’ve got this.”

When they arrived, Abby and Melanie walked into the lobby of the coroner’s office and approached the overly-permed red-headed clerk behind the counter.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Abby said, her voice wavering. She reached in her purse and handed Melanie her old driver’s license. “They wanted me to bring proof of my identity. This is all I have.”

“Okay, sit down. I’ll take care of everything.” Mel took the driver’s license, patted Abby’s shoulder, and pointed to the waiting area. “Hello, ma’am, I’m Melanie Davis, here with Abigail Melrose. We were told her mother, Charlotte Melrose, was transported here after a car accident earlier today. I don’t have the slightest idea what to do, or ask, so please excuse our ignorance.” She handed the license to the coroner’s clerk.

“Of course, dear, and yes, Mrs. Melrose is here. The next of kin will have to identify her. Will that be Abigail?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but she’s pretty shaken right now. Can you tell me what the protocol is?”

“Certainly. First, the body needs to be identified. After that, we can tell the next of kin what the cause of death was if they want to know. We’ll also arrange transportation to the funeral home of choice and supply the next of kin with the necessary copies of the death certificate.”

“I see.” Melanie leaned over the counter and whispered to the clerk, “Will you keep her here until we figure out what funeral home and cemetery to have her transported to? We don’t have all that information yet.”

“Yes, we certainly will. Why don’t you take a seat for a moment? I’ll have the coroner come out and speak to both of you.”

“Thank you.” Melanie walked away, filled two Dixie cups with water, and sat down next to Abby. “Here, drink this. Do you need any antacids or aspirin? I have a whole pharmacy in my purse.”

“I’m okay, but thanks. You’ll stay with me today, won’t you? I’m really going to need your help.”

“Sure, I will. I’ll call in a few days of vacation at work. They owe me plenty.”

A middle-aged gentleman wearing a white lab coat came out from the double doors to their left. He wore thick bifocals and had graying temples. He approached Abby and Melanie, asking which of them was family of the deceased. Abby stood, her eyes swollen and bloodshot, and explained that she was Charlotte Melrose’s daughter. The coroner sat next to Abby and introduced himself as Dr. David Harmon. He asked if Abby wanted her mother to have an autopsy but said that in his opinion, it wasn’t necessary. Her body had extensive trauma caused by the collision. Nothing else was necessary to determine the cause of death.

“Will you be able to identify your mother, Miss Melrose? You can look through the window if you don’t think you’re capable of anything else. We have her personal effects in a locker to give you before you leave. Whenever you’re ready, but please, take your time.”

“Okay, I guess I’m ready. Mel, will you go with me? I’m only going to look through the window. I don’t think I can do any more than that.”

“Of course I will.”

“All right, ladies, just follow me to the window. I’ll go inside and prepare her. When I open the curtain, just nod your head, then I’ll close it again. That’s all you need to do.”

Abby gave Mel a frightened look and held her hand as they followed Dr. Harmon. Abby’s hand was shaking through the tight grip. The curtain opened, Abby gasped, nodded her head, and turned to face the wall. Within five seconds, it was over, and the curtain was closed once more.

Dr. Harmon came out and gave Abby a comforting embrace, then he explained the identification process. “All you have to do now is sign the form acknowledging you identified the deceased as your mother, tell us how many copies of the death certificate you need, and sign the consent form agreeing to keep her here until we release her to the funeral home. I’m very sorry for your loss, Miss Melrose. Please follow me.”

Abby signed all the papers, gathered her mother’s belongings, and left with Melanie. Back at the house, she sat at the kitchen table with Melanie and Betsy, a stiff drink in front of each of them, and began scrolling through her mother’s cell phone.

“I think this is the easiest and fastest way to find most of the people we’ll need to contact. She told me she was going to her attorney’s office today. I’m sure his phone number would be in her call list.” Abby checked the calls her mother had made in the last two days, but surprisingly, the only calls were to the Historic Charleston Foundation and the Art Institute of Charleston. “I don’t understand this. She said she was going to a board meeting luncheon today, then to her attorney’s office after that. Mel, what time did we leave Crabby’s?”