Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)

The mention of his name startled Susannah, until she reminded herself that Chrissie couldn’t possibly know what it was about Troy that had upset her.

“You’re really trying, and Mom, I want to tell you how grateful I am.”

“I’m doing my best.”

Her daughter impulsively scrambled to her feet and hugged her. “You won’t be sorry, Mom. I promise you.”

Except that she already was.

CHAPTER 40

Vivian was so tired. She knew she was in the hospital and she knew she was in pain. She couldn’t tell what time it was. Afternoon, she assumed. She vaguely remembered a lunch tray, which she hadn’t touched. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. She thought George might come; that was why she had to stay awake. She felt certain her husband would know how badly she needed to see him.

Closing her eyes, she fought the waves of fatigue.

“Vivian?” a gruff male voice called to her.

Vivian opened her eyes to find George Wakefield from Altamira standing next to her hospital bed. He leaned heavily on his crutches and stared down at her, a look of worry creasing his face.

“George.” He wasn’t the George she’d been longing to see, but this George was good, too.

“How are you feeling?”

She gave a weak smile. Seeing him, she remembered she’d been with George playing pool when she’d fallen. It must’ve been quite a shock for him.

“I broke my hip.”

“That’s what they said. I told you not to take that shot with your cane. It’s dangerous.”

“You used your crutch. Fair is fair.”

He nearly grinned, which would’ve been a first. This George was as stingy with smiles as her husband had been.

“How’d you get here?” Vivian asked. The assisted-living place kept close tabs on everyone. Getting away without one of the staff noticing couldn’t have been easy.

“I signed myself out.”

Vivian hadn’t known she could do that. Anytime she’d left, it’d been with Susannah. “But how’d you get here?”

“Curious, aren’t you?”

Vivian laughed softly. “I should find out, in case I decide to make a break for it.”

This time he did smile and it cheered her immeasurably.

“Okay. I took the Altamira Shuttle. All you have to do is order it at the desk.”

“Hmm.” Vivian wondered if it was time for another pain pill.

“Any more visits from your dead husband?” George asked. Resting his crutches against the wall, he sank down onto the lone chair in the room and made himself comfortable.

Vivian shook her head sadly. “I thought for sure he’d come and see me, but he hasn’t.”

“It might be more difficult these days. They have restrictions on the other side, you know?”

Vivian had guessed as much. All she knew of heaven was in the pages of her Bible, and the descriptions there were somewhat limited. George hadn’t told her anything, but then he’d never spoken. That apparently went against the rules.

“Did anyone ask about me?” Vivian inquired. “At Altamira?”

“Several folks. Your friend Sally. None of the nurses knew how you were doing, so I decided to find out for myself.”

Vivian blushed; his attention flustered her. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too.” He gently patted her hand, and she felt herself grow warm. Oh, my. This George was a handsome man and she—

“Mom?” Susannah stood in the doorway holding a vase of roses. She wore the oddest look, as if she wasn’t quite sure she should trust her eyes.

“Susannah!”

George struggled to his feet.

“George, this is my daughter, Susannah,” Vivian said, rushing the words in her embarrassment. That look of her daughter’s made her feel guilty, although she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hello, George,” Susannah said. “Have we met?”

“No, but your mother’s mentioned you many times.”

“I see.” Susannah set the flowers down on the bedside stand and leaned close to kiss Vivian on the cheek.

“George isn’t my boyfriend or anything,” Vivian said firmly. She wanted that understood right away. Boyfriend was such a silly word. In her day it would’ve been suitor. Or maybe gentleman caller.

“I’m not?” George said, and to her delight he sounded downright disappointed.

“We’re friends.”

“Right,” George concurred. “Friends.”

Susannah seemed to be in a good mood if that smile on her face was any indication.

“I suppose I’d best be getting back to Altamira,” George muttered, reaching for his crutches.

“Please don’t leave on my account,” Susannah said.

“The shuttle driver’s waiting. I told him I wouldn’t be staying long.” He patted Vivian’s hand one last time. “You take care, you hear.”

“I will,” she promised and then because she wanted to be sure he wouldn’t disappear the way her George sometimes did, she stretched out one hand and touched his face.

Surprise filled George’s eyes. “Hurry back home,” he whispered. “I miss you.” Then, expertly wielding his crutches, he swung out the door.

“Mother,” Susannah said. “You do have a boyfriend.”

“I most certainly don’t,” Vivian denied hotly. She rolled her head to the side to examine the flowers. “It’s very thoughtful of you to bring me roses.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

Vivian sighed. “I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

Susannah stepped closer to the bed. “Why would I be upset?”

Lowering her lashes, Vivian felt it was time she told the truth. “You were so angry with your father not long ago, although I don’t remember what it was about….”

“I’m beginning to think I might have misjudged Daddy,” Susannah said in a low voice.

It gladdened Vivian’s heart to hear that. “I told you I’d ask your father, but he didn’t come. I waited up half the night, and then I was afraid he didn’t know I’d moved.” She spoke quickly in her eagerness to confess what she’d done. “I wanted to talk to him so badly and he didn’t come.” She dared to glance up and to her astonishment, Susannah had tears in her eyes. This was what she’d feared most, that Susannah would be upset with her again.

“I’m so sorry,” Vivian murmured.

“Sorry about what, Mom?”

“I told George—the George you just met—that you were angry with your father and that I was waiting for him to visit. When your father didn’t show up, he suggested I tell you I’d spoken to George, which I had, of course, only it was a different George, and that anything your father did was because he loved you.”

“He did love me, Mom.” The tears in her daughter’s eyes glistened. “I don’t know why it took me so long to understand that.”

“Do you understand now?”

Susannah nodded. “I’ve learned a lot in the last few days….”

“It wasn’t a real lie. I did talk to George,” she said, returning to the subject of her small deception. “It wasn’t George, your father, but George my friend.”

Susannah offered her a gentle smile. “It’s all right, Mom. I’m not angry.”

“Good.” Vivian was tired then, really tired. After waiting most of the day, she had to assume her husband wasn’t coming. Maybe tonight, but she wasn’t holding out much hope.

“I think I’ll close my eyes,” she whispered.

“You go right ahead, Mom.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Maybe,” Susannah said. “But if I’m not, it’s because I have an errand to run.”

“That’s fine, dear. Go ahead and do your errand.”

“I love you, Mom.”

Vivian smiled, glad she’d told the truth. She felt so much better now that Susannah knew.

She must have drifted off then, because when she woke, the room was dark and silent. The night-light shone from the bathroom.

She sensed she wasn’t alone and turning her head, she realized she was right. George stood beside the bed.

Her George. Defying death, he’d come when she needed him most.

CHAPTER 41

Araucous country-and-western song was booming from the Roadside Inn when Susannah drove into the gravel parking lot. She’d left her mother, who appeared to be resting comfortably; now she was about to meet Troy. She had the money to pay him off. It was with more than a little trepidation that she’d decided to play his game.

As before, the tavern was filled with truckers. The smoke was thick and the odor of booze and stale perspiration permeated the place. Troy sat at a table with the same blonde Susannah had seen earlier. He’d told Chrissie this “old friend” was named Jenny something. The woman looked adoringly up at Troy, her arm wrapped tightly around his waist. She wore a skimpy halter top and her breasts threatened to spill out.

Troy turned and stared at Susannah as she walked through the door. He said something to the blonde and disengaged himself from her embrace. His gaze holding Susannah’s, he motioned with his head toward the bar.

As on her previous visit, Sharon was bartending. Susannah saw her former classmate stiffen at the sight of her. Susannah went rigid, too, still not sure she was doing the right thing.

Troy moved down to the far end and Susannah met him there.

“You have the money?” he asked coolly.

Clutching her purse close to her body, she nodded. “I have a few concerns we need to discuss first.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Don’t try to screw me over,” he said in a heated whisper.

“I’m not. You’re asking for a lot of money and I want some guarantees.”

“Like what?”

“How do I know you won’t contact Chrissie at a later date?”

“Forget it,” he scoffed. “I’ve got other fish to fry.”

“You mean you make a practice of this sort of thing?”

“No,” he said as though her questions bored him. “I’m tired of her. What’s that old saying—out of sight, out of mind? She’ll go back to Seattle and that’ll be the end of it.”

This was what Susannah hoped would happen. “There’s no guarantee Chrissie will leave Colville,” she said.

Troy dismissed her concern with a shake of his head. “She will.”

Susannah wasn’t convinced. Her daughter was stubborn and might just decide to stay. In which case, everything could explode in Susannah’s face.

“Are you changing the ground rules?” Troy asked, leaning one elbow against the bar.

“No, but I want Chrissie to go home where she belongs.” She paused. “More precisely, I want her back in school.”

Troy shrugged indifferently. “Works for me. I sure don’t want her hanging around here. She’ll go home, don’t worry about it.”