Slowly, I make my way over to the drawer. The phone has stopped ringing at this point, and my heart is in my throat as I pick it up. I'm not sure why I'm nervous, but the thought of having to answer the phone and tell whoever is calling that Kim is dead makes my stomach bubble with anxiety. I pick up the phone and see there is a missed call from someone named Shirley. My fingers slightly shake as I enter the password, and right as I'm about to call Shirley back, a voicemail from her pops up. I press play and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Kim,” the woman named Shirley says ,voice cheery. “I haven't heard from you in a few days. I'm hoping everything is okay with the horses. I hate to have to say this over a message, but I'm not going to be able to make it to the clinic this weekend. My granddaughter is going into labor any day now and I promised I would help take care of her older two kids while she's in the hospital. Give me a call when you can. Take Care now.”
“Shit,” I grumble to myself, knowing I should just call this Shirley woman back now and get it over with. Taking a deep breath, I tap her name on the screen and bring the phone to my ear. Maybe I'll get lucky and she won't answer. Though, leaving a voicemail telling her that her friend died probably isn't the best idea.
“Hello?” Shirley answers.
“Hi,” I say awkwardly. “I'm Josie, Kim Walker's niece,” I start, closing my eyes as I wince at my words. “Is this Shirley?”
“Yes, is everything okay?”
“It's not, and I hate to be the one to tell you this—especially over the phone.” I suddenly get hit with emotion. “My aunt she…she…she passed away recently.”
Shirley doesn't say anything for a good minute, and I think maybe she dropped the phone or hung up.
“She told me she was getting better,” Shirley finally says, voice void of emotion. “I believed her.”
“We all did,” I say and turn around, leaning against the counter. “She was a lot sicker than she let anyone know. But she went out on her own terms, peacefully in her sleep.”
“That sounds like the Kim I know. I'm so sorry for your loss honey.” Shirley sniffles “You said your Josie?”
“Yes.”
“Your aunt spoke quite highly about you. You and your daughter.”
Another moment of silence passes between us. It's awkward and I just want to hang up the phone.
“Oh my goodness,” Shirley rushes out. “I don't mean to be crass, but who's taking care of all of Kim's animals? I know how much she loved every single one of them.”
“I am,” I assure her. “My daughter and I are moving in so we can continue the work my aunt started.”
“Bless you,” Shirley says, sounding emotional again. “I met your aunt several years ago when she helped me with one of my horses. He was abused by his previous owner and several trainers told me he was dangerous and the best thing to do would be to put him down. But your aunt wouldn't give up on him, and after just two months of rehab with her he was like a different horse. She was a special woman, your aunt.”
“She really was,” I agree now it's my turn to try not to cry. “I hope I can do her justice. I know how much the horses meant to her, which is why we're going to do whatever it takes to keep this place running in her honor.”
“Well, I know you have a lot going on and you might not be in the right headspace to go to a clinic, but the clinic is quite informative, and the vendors were always very generous with donations whenever anyone from a rescue would talk to them. Last year, your aunt got nearly a month’s worth of feed from Purina for free.”
“Oh wow,” I say, knowing how much that could help us out right now.
“I'm unable to go,” Shirley goes on. “But I can forward you my ticket so you can bring someone else.”
“Yeah, that would be great thank you.” I blink a few times and then give Shirley my email address for her to send the ticket. She tells me how sorry she is for my loss and says to call her if I need anything. I end the call and let out a deep breath. I don't really have time to go to a clinic—and it just hits me that I never even asked where it is—but if there's a chance I could get free feed or even just make some connections with local vendors, then it’s not an opportunity I can't pass up.
“Seriously?” I shake my head and walk Thor around in a circle. We're standing outside the barn, trying to complete his fifteen minutes of hand walking for the evening. My dad and Elijah are busy fixing the front porch. The hammering and sawing didn't faze Thor until we walked literally two feet closer to the house. “This didn't bother you a second ago,” I tell the pony, and lead him back toward the barn. I don't think he's actually as spooky as he appears, but more so has pent up energy from being in his stall all day. We go around the barn, continuing our walk. I stop to let him hand graze for a few minutes, and look out at the road Heather is bringing Everly home, and she should be here soon.