The Will(143)

She grinned at me as she got close and slid an arm around my waist.

I reciprocated the gesture and we walked through the diner in this fashion, Alyssa stating, “I’m gonna hang at The Circus with you tomorrow night. Check out the dancers, get me some new moves to rock Junior’s world.”

We separated to walk out the door as I looked at her with delight.

“I would love that,” I shared.

“Then you’re on. Meet you there at ten,” she replied as we stopped outside in the chill air.

“Excellent. Ten,” I agreed.

“Now, you need help goin’ through your boxes, you call me. I’d kill to dig through your wardrobe and if you let me try a few pieces on, I’ll put you in my will.”

The boxes from Henry’s pool house had arrived and this was how I told Alyssa I was going to spend my afternoon, sorting through them, officially moving into Lavender House.

Bittersweet.

But it would be less so with Alyssa helping me do it. Therefore, I decided to delay my afternoon’s activities until a time she could help me.

“I’ll take you up on that,” I said. “We’ll plan tomorrow night.”

“Right on,” she agreed.

We did double cheek kisses and she took off with a low wave saying, “Later, babelicious.”

“Later, honey,” I called to her as I turned in the other direction to head down the sidewalk toward my Cayenne.

I was nearly there when my phone in my purse rang and as it was so soon after the last call, I wondered if it was the same caller and they actually needed to speak to me.

So I pulled it out but stopped dead on the sidewalk when I saw the caller’s name on the display.

Quickly, I took the call and put the phone to my ear.

“Arnie, how are you?” I greeted cautiously.

There was a long pause before he replied in a voice that broke my heart, “Been better, Josephine.”

I stepped to the side, tilted my head down to stare at my high-heeled boots and gave him my full attention.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

“No, my dear. I’m just phoning to let you know we’re putting Eliza in hospice today.”

Hospice.

Damn.

My heart clenched and I whispered, “So soon?”

His broken heart was in his voice when he replied, “Yes, Josephine.”

I felt my hand shaking so I tightened it around the phone when I queried, “May I come and see her?”

“Of course,” he answered. “She’ll want to see you.”

“I…where will she be?”

He gave me the name of the hospice as I took deep breaths to control the tears stinging my eyes.

“I’ll come tomorrow,” I told him.

“Do it today, Josephine,” he said quietly and my eyes immediately got wet.

“Okay.” I paused. “I’ll, well…I’ll let you go.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“You will, Arnie,” I assured. “Thank you for taking the time to phone. Until then.”

“Good-bye, my dear,” he said and rang off.

When he did, I stood on the sidewalk and stared at my boots, tears gliding down my face.

Jake was right. He was very right.

I shouldn’t have taken that on.

I couldn’t handle it.

On this thought, I heard my name called.

“Josephine?”

I looked up and saw Mickey standing before me. His face was watery but I noted vaguely that he was smiling. However, the instant he caught my tear-stained cheeks, his expression shifted to concern.

“Jesus,” he murmured, “Honey, what’s happening?”

“Eliza Weaver is going into hospice today.”

He said nothing but then again, I didn’t give him a chance. I tilted my head down and covered my face with my hands even with my phone still in one of them.

Then I was in Mickey’s arms. Feeling their strength close around me, his warmth enveloping me, his kindness melting into my skin, my body bucked and I made one of those awful hiccupping noises through my tears.

One of his arms left me and moments later, as he turned us and started us walking, still holding me close, I heard him say, “Jake, buddy, you gotta get to the station. I got Josephine with me and she’s not good. Says some friend of hers is going to hospice today. Think she just found out on the street but I know she lost it.”

I lifted wet eyes to him even as he kept moving us toward the station and said, “I-I’ll be all right.”

Mickey looked down at me but otherwise ignored me and said into the phone at his ear, “Right. Good. See you then. We’ll be in the break room. Later.”

“Jake’s busy,” I told him as he shoved the phone in his back pocket.

“Thinkin’ Jake’s never too busy for you,” he replied.

I was thinking this was very true and more, even in my distress, I was very much liking that thought.

Mickey got me to the fire station, upstairs and on a beaten up leather couch in a room that had a full kitchen, a big table and was surprisingly clean as a pin.

I’d managed to get control of my tears and he’d pulled a chair in front of me and was leaned in with his elbows to his knees, his hands holding mine, listening to me telling him who Eliza and Arnie were (he knew of them, but not them) when Jake got there.