Falling Fast
“What?” I breathe, resting my hand against the edge of the counter to hold myself up.
“I need to get over there. Dad just called the cops and they’re on their way.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, baby,” he denies, shaking his head, and I stare at him then take a step back.
“You don’t think—”
“No,” he cuts me off before I can finish my question, and his hand wraps around my hip, bringing me a step closer to him. “If you say you locked up, you locked up.”
“I locked up,” I whisper, and he nods, pressing his lips to my forehead in a soft touch.
“I gotta get over there. I’ll call you.” He lets me go with a peck to my lips, and I watch him disappear out the front door then listen to his motorcycle start up. Going to the window, I wrap my arms around my middle as he takes off down the lane.
Someone broke into the storage locker. Who and how? I know I locked up behind myself. I always make sure to double-check the lock before I leave just to be safe. With no answer, I start to head back upstairs to get ready for work but stop when I hear my cell ringing. Going to the kitchen where my phone’s charging, I pick it up and slide my finger across the screen. “Hello,” I answer after putting the phone to my ear.
“Gia, it’s Elizabeth.” She stops speaking and my eyes slide closed. I know what she’s going to say before she says it, just by the sound of regret in her voice. “I just went in to check on your grandma. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but she’s passed, honey.”
“I… How? I just saw her last night.” I whisper, as pain radiates through my chest and squeezes my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
“Sometimes it happens that way. One minute, they’re with us and they seem fine, and the next, they’re gone,” she says quietly, and the pain in my chest expands. “I’m sorry, Gia. I know this is going to be hard on you, but do you want to see her before they come to take her away?”
My lungs seize up. I don’t want to see her again knowing she’s gone, but at the same time, I need to see her one last time.
“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I wheeze out, opening my eyes and seeing nothing.
“I’ll let them know you’re on your way,” she says softly, then adds, “again, I’m sorry, Gia.”
“Thank you.” I hang up and stare at the phone in my hand while trying to pull in a breath. Dialing Colton’s number, I wait for him to answer, but he doesn’t. His phone goes to voicemail, so I hang up and head upstairs.
Fighting back the crushing pain around my heart, I take off my nightgown, put on a bra, and change into jeans and a T-shirt. Once that’s done, I head back downstairs, slip on my shoes by the door, grab my keys, and get into my Jeep. Moving on autopilot, I dial Colton’s number again on the way, listen as it rings, and then hang up, not leaving him a message when it goes to voicemail again.
~**~
“Her stuff will be boxed up. You can pick it up in a few days,” Ritta, the nursing home director—a petite, older Chinese woman with kind eyes and gentle features—says from my side, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “The funeral home will also be calling you to set up the funeral arrangements.”
“Okay,” I whisper, still looking at the rumpled sheets on the bed where my grandmother was, until two men wearing suits came in with a stretcher to carry her out of the room and take her away.
“Do you want to come to my office and call someone to come pick you up?” she asks, squeezing my hand, and my eyes go to hers. I tried to call Colton again after I got here, and again, he didn’t answer, and again, I didn’t leave a message.
“I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, keeping hold of my hand, now doing it tightly. “I don’t think you should be driving in your state.”
“I don’t live far, maybe fifteen minutes. I’ll be okay,” I assure her, but she doesn’t look convinced. If anything, she looks even more worried than she did seconds ago.
“Every other week on Tuesday afternoons, we have a grief counselor here for people who have suffered the loss of a family member or friend. Sometimes, sharing your experience with others who have gone through something similar helps you heal.”
“I’ll think about going to one,” I lie, and she nods, finally releasing her hold on me.
“If you need anything at all, call the office and ask for me.”
“Thank you,” I say, and she nods once then leaves the room.