Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(46)

“Don’t kick yourself about that,” Walt said. “The household of an invalid is complicated. We talked about it—it would’ve been hard on Midge and Mattie, not to mention Shelby. Midge understood, believe me. And Matt’s parents had a priority there. They lost their son—it was good that we went.”

“Instead of going to Mendocino, I should have gone to Bodega,” Vanni said.

“Vanni, Midge would rather you have had a nice weekend—she was at peace with her destiny. That’s the one thing that gives me comfort. She was ready. She wasn’t holding out for anything.”

“Shelby will need help now, won’t she?” Vanni asked.

“Shelby has her own ideas. We’ve been over this many times. She wants to sit tight for a while, continue with her ALS support group and get her bearings. Caregivers have huge adjustments after the end—she wants to figure things out before she makes a big change. I think that’s smart. After all, she was only a young girl when this all started, she hasn’t had an adult life at all, at least not the usual kind. The house is hers now, and she’ll either sell it or keep it, but it needs a lot of work and I’ll help with that. At twenty-five, it’s finally time for her to start her life.” Then he took a deep breath. “Midge wasn’t in pain. Emotional pain, yes—she felt she was a burden. My little Midge—she didn’t have it easy.”

“Daddy, are you okay?” Vanni asked.

“Honey, I’m relieved. She was leaving us so slowly. At last she has her reward. At last…she can walk and laugh again…”

Shelby had been born in the small house that had been her widowed grandmother’s and she had lived there all her life. Her father had never showed his face during her entire childhood and there were no support payments of any kind—but her uncle Walt had always been there for them. When her grandmother died, Walt refused any of the insurance benefit and took over the house payments. In addition to that, since Shelby had no male role model in her life, she spent summers with her uncle’s family where she learned to ride, shoot skeet, and had what passed for siblings with her cousins, even during Walt’s Army tours abroad. Shelby had lived summers in Germany and Denmark with the Booths. Because of the Booth family, Shelby’s childhood had been rich with family.

The life of a caregiver is a hard one, emotionally draining and physically exhausting. Shelby couldn’t have done otherwise—her mother was her best friend. So when the Lou Gehrig’s began to get bad, although Shelby was very young, her life went on hold to care for her. But hers was not a lonely life by any means—the support system for families with life-limited members was a strong one. They helped each other in every possible way and formed incredibly strong friendships. The evidence of this was obvious at Midge’s memorial—nearly a hundred people turned out for a woman who hadn’t left her bed in over two years. They were clearly there for Shelby.

Midge had been cremated. She had not wanted to take that wasted body into eternity. The house had become run-down during her illness and neither an open house nor a reception was possible; the living room had held the hospital bed and support equipment needed for her care, all of which had been quickly swept away within a day of her passing. Midge’s wishes had been spelled out very clearly—no fuss, just kind words and friendship—but Walt and Shelby had made arrangements with a funeral parlor months preceding her departure and secured a room that was bright and spacious, and refreshments were catered in. There were a few tasteful arrangements of flowers and one large, gorgeous spray sent by Paul Haggerty.

Walt and his family arrived Sunday night and by Wednesday all the farewells had been said to Midge. He wanted Shelby to pack up and come home to Virgin River with them, but she wouldn’t. “I have things to do,” she said. “Important things. Not only does this house need a lot of work—most of which I can do myself—but I have a big transition to make. I’m staying with my support group until I’ve had a chance to adjust to the change. And,” she said, “I’m not sure I want to leave Bodega Bay. I’ve been here all my life.”

“What would you like to do now?” Vanni asked her.

“That’s part of the transition,” Shelby said. “I don’t know yet. People in my group have talked about trying to make changes too fast—it can be devastating. I’m not going to let myself fall into that trap.”

So Walt went about the business of helping Shelby make a list of repairs and renovations that should be done to make the house presentable again. It was paid off now, so Shelby could do with it as she pleased. Shelby’s list contained mostly cosmetic items from cleaning and painting, to tearing out old window coverings to replace with new ones. Walt’s list was a little more industrial—he thought it was time for new doors and frames, windows and baseboards, not to mention new plumbing fixtures and updated appliances. After all, this had been his mother’s home. He felt a responsibility to it, he always had. He would personally contract most of this work to be done for Shelby.

Shelby herself needed some remodeling. Even though her caregiving job had been very physical, she hadn’t been getting the right kind of exercise and had gained weight. Her complexion was pale and blemished, and she hadn’t bothered with makeup in years. Her hair had grown long—she’d never had it cut—and she wound a single honey-colored braid around her head to keep it out of the way. Shelby had plans for some personal changes, but she didn’t discuss any of that with her family because she wasn’t sure where to begin. And she wasn’t sure it was even possible.