Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
When he died, she cried for him and even more for herself. Chet was all that remained, and she went to him every time she could. Violet was so heartbroken Ronni began to pretend she didn’t know she slept with her arms around Chet Wilson and sneaked out in the early morning.
One night a fierce Alabama thunderstorm rolled in. Ronni ran from room to room answering call buttons, reassuring frightened patients. Some were like toddlers, pitifully begging to sleep with their parents. The hallway lights flickered and an emergency generator kicked on.
As rain pounded the roof and lightning cleaved the weeping willow in half, Chet’s heart stopped beating. And as she’d promised him long ago, Violet’s did, too.
thirty-seven
RONNI
Rick sat on the edge of my bed, his back outlined in the soft dawn light. I raked my fingernails down his spine and he turned to kiss me.
“Why are you up so early? I whispered.
“I’m going to visit the boys today. Jeremy’s in some kind of play at school this morning.”
“Will you stay in Tuscaloosa for supper?” I was grateful Victoria had returned to her wealthy gasbag husband, and even more grateful to know they were expecting a little gasbag.
“Probably,” he answered. “But I’ll be back by bedtime.” Rick threw my t-shirt upward and cupped my breast in his hand, trailing kisses up toward my neck.
“You’re not getting away with that.” I pulled him on top of me. “This will just take a minute or two.”
“Hey, I resent your implication, lady,” he said.
Kait was in the tiny break room when I arrived for work and her eyes were red. I knew immediately a patient had died. “Who?” was all I said. We had a shorthand after years together in this place.
“Audrey. I can’t believe I’m crying over the hateful, nasty-tater-growing, bossy old plantation queen who made our lives miserable,” Kait covered her face with her hands and I hugged her, tears of my own falling fast. Any time we lost a patient was hard, but Audrey was a special combination of venom and honey. I realized I’d miss her a lot. We allowed ourselves another minute and headed off to fix our makeup and start rounds.
“We should go to the funeral,” I told Kait, pushing the med cart to the end of the hall as she reviewed the tablet computer for instructions.
“I’m just going to send some sort of vine,” she answered.