Coming Home (32 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

SITTING ON THE WINDOW SEAT, Jessie turned and stared out at the quiet street through the sheer curtains. A slight breeze wafted in through the partially open window and a small whisper accompanied the silence. She noticed the clock across the room—3:35—and shuddered.
Some year I’ll get a full night’s sleep
. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and tugged so tightly her back hurt. She closed her eyes and prayed,
Dear Lord, help me finally let it all go
.

When she looked up, she heard the muffled sound of a phone ringing.
Who would call at this time of night?
Her first thought was to assume it was some kind of prank call, or wrong number, or maybe … very bad news.

Jessica wondered briefly why Bill or her grandmother didn’t answer the phone, but the next emotion was so strong that it struck her like a physical thud against her chest.

Jessie picked up the extension on her nightstand. “Hello?” she asked tentatively.

“This is Tammy Henderson… .”

“Um … yes?”

“From the Woodland Park Care Center? I called to tell you—”

“Um, I’m not—” Jessica thought she heard a click on the extension.

“Mrs. Crenshaw?” the caller asked.

“No, I’m sorry …” Jessica began.

Her grandmother came on the line. “This is Doris Crenshaw. I have it now, Jessica.”

“Okay. Sorry… .” Jessica mumbled, hanging up. A sudden sensation began prickling its way along her spine. Her heart began to pound within her and she sat up straight, her memory whirling. What had the caller said?
Woodland Park Care Center …

Nurse Tammy Henderson hung up the phone, shaking her head at the strange turn of events. Doris Crenshaw, the woman who had visited her patient religiously for over a decade, was obviously stunned. Who could blame her? Tammy could barely believe it herself. She had stopped by the room to assess the automatic feeding system, only to be struck by the beautiful moonlight glowing through the window. It granted such a peaceful feeling that she had been reluctant to leave.

She had paused at the bed and looked at Olivia’s face. So thin, so white, and yet in the subtle light her face had an almost angelic glow, and her breathing seemed serene, even peaceful.

“Where are you, Olivia?” Tammy whispered softly. She stroked Olivia’s cheek, then held her hand, squeezing as much assurance as she could into a tiny gesture.

For years, the third-shift nurses had discussed their longtime resident, wondering if she would ever regain consciousness. Curious, Tammy had done her own research on comas and was surprised to discover that people could come back after many years of unconsciousness. In fact, some had awakened after a decade or more. She also learned that for many, the coma state has almost a cocoon effect, locking the patient in time, even to the point of stopping any progress of disease.

“She
might
wake up,” Tammy had once suggested to her coworkers. But even she didn’t really believe it. Still, Tammy had often whispered a prayer over her dear patient, hoping that she might be the one to greet this woman if she ever did awaken, to be the first to say, “Welcome back!”

“Sleep tight, Olivia,” Tammy said, knowing she must leave Olivia and get back to her rounds. Then she froze.
What on earth?
A shadowy movement had crossed Olivia’s face, obviously caused by the outside clouds, but it startled her. Either that, or her mind was playing tricks on her.

“Olivia?”

Too many late hours,
she told herself, but upon closer examination, she gasped. Her mind wasn’t playing tricks after all. Olivia’s eyes were open, but not blankly open, as if in response to some kind of muscular aberration.

Olivia’s eyes were
following
her….

Tammy gathered her composure, and in spite of the tears in her eyes, and the lump in her throat, she fulfilled her longtime wish. “Welcome back, Olivia!”

Ashen faced and trembling, Bill and Doris dressed in their respective rooms, then met in the upstairs hallway. It now made sense to Doris why she’d awakened when she did. It hadn’t been the moon or the guilt. Over the phone, the nurse had declared the impossible, and Doris had struggled to comprehend both facts:
She’s awake?

And
she’s lucid?

Doris asked that the news be repeated several times. But then the nurse gave her the worst news of all, which seemed like a cruel joke. “In the past hour, Olivia’s vital signs have diminished drastically, and she appears to be going downhill very quickly.”

“But why now?” Doris had asked.

As they paused at the top of the stairs, Doris struggled with how to approach her granddaughter and tell the amazing yet painful truth.

“Do you want me to wake her?” Bill asked.

“Isn’t it time I faced up to this?” Doris replied, and she turned toward Jessie’s room.

When she knocked, Jessie was already sitting at the edge of the bed, fully dressed. Her eyes were clear and focused, her hair pulled back, and her face expectant, as if she already knew.

“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Jessie asked.

Doris nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “Just barely,” she whispered, and the look of despair on Jessie’s face broke her heart.

“Is she conscious?”

Again her grandmother nodded. “Yes, but the nurse said she was slipping away fast. We don’t have much time.”

Jessie sat in the back of the car, a profound fusion of emotions flowing through her. Even before her grandmother had come to her room, the clues had mingled together in her mind—the phone call, the
knowing
, her grandmother’s previous dejection, the dreams—until they had coalesced into one final truth, one that in so many ways, she felt she had always known.

In spite of the swirling questions, the urgency of the moment seemed to inhibit an exchange of information. The time for questions would come soon enough. For now, it didn’t even matter how she had come to this point. She wasn’t even tempted to believe she was dreaming, because she knew she wasn’t. This moment was more real than in her entire life.

The sense of anticipation dominated every other thought, every other emotion. What would she see when she arrived? How would her mother appear? Apparently her mother was lucid, but what did that mean? Could she talk? Could she understand?

Expectancy mingled with a sense of profound impatience. After all these years, would she miss her mother by mere minutes?

“Hurry, Bill,” Doris urged, and Bill kicked it up a notch. Once they reached Highway 24 and headed up the winding mountain pass, they had nearly thirty minutes to go.

“Please hurry, Bill,” Jessie whispered.

She had the disconnected sensation of observing herself from the outside. She wondered how anyone else might feel to discover that their loved one was still alive, after their world had been reordered and rearranged—after years of coming to grips with the loss and the grief. The shock rolled over her, and in spite of her recent suspicions and a decade of dreams, nothing could have adequately prepared her for the final reality of this moment. Absolutely nothing.

In spite of the sense of urgency, in spite of the gnawing fear that they might not arrive in time, Jessie could not think of her grandmother without realizing she’d been betrayed one more time. One more lie revealed. One more reason to distrust.

The realization was met with little emotion, as if she had no space left to hold this glaring truth—although someday it was sure to return and demand an accounting. She would have to contemplate that later. For now, one thing remained. Only one.

My mother is alive… .

For a moment Jessie was tempted to retrieve her cell phone and call Andy. But she resisted. If he was here with her now, he’d have his arms around her. He’d be consoling her. He’d be peering at her eyes, trying to read her emotions, more than eager to help her through this. The thought of that was almost unbearable.

Every ounce of energy was for her mother now. She could scarcely wait!

In Woodland Park, Bill turned onto Highway 67 going north. Several miles later he turned left down a dirt road.
It’s beautiful here,
Jessie thought.

Another turn and they were there. This place looked like a peaceful hospice retreat. Not an institution.
Thank heavens
. Jessie sighed with relief. Instead, it looked like an oversized country inn edged by a canopy of pine trees, the sun flickering through the needles on the eastern side. The building was tan clapboard and had a covered porch across the front, trimmed in white. About ten cars were parked in the black-topped lot and a sign over the entrance announced: Woodland Park Care Center.

Bill hurried out of the car and opened Grandmother’s door and then her own, almost simultaneously. Doris turned to Jessie, her eyes belying her regret, but Jessie glanced away as Bill ushered them quickly to the building. Whatever Grandmother might wish to say to her, Jessie could not receive it now.

Immediately upon entering, they stepped into an echoing linoleum hallway. Off to their right was an office. Straight ahead the hallway led toward the back of the building. Jessie’s senses took in everything, and with everything came a sense of déjà vu. She experienced the same feeling that had followed her throughout her life, starting when she and her mother were so completely tuned in to each other’s thoughts and feelings. Her mother’s presence was
everywhere
in this place.