Blackwell?”
“Yes. I had a message to call you?”
She heard him take a deep breath and knew this wasn’t easy for him. He was a few years older than she was, but, like her, he’d been born and raised in Bordelaise.
“Miss Blackwell, I don’t know if you remember me or not. I think we’ve met several times through the years.”
“Yes, I remember you,” Cari said. “Please…what’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news. The tornado that came through Bordelaise on Sunday hit your aunt and uncle’s property. I’m so sorry to tell you, but Frank, Maggie and your cousin were all killed.”
Cari’s breath caught. Hearing it said aloud—like this—sealed the awful truth. She didn’t have to fake the sorrow.
“Oh Lord… Lord,” she said softly.
“They were at the farm when the tornado hit. Their bodies have been taken to Sumner’s Funeral Home here in Bordelaise. The funeral director has been notified and is expecting your call. Again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Cari’s voice was shaking. She felt like she was going to throw up. “They’re all the family I had left.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
Cari started to cry.
“Would you like the number to the funeral home?” Porter asked.
“Yes…no…yes, I guess.”
All the while Cari was saying the words, the weight of her reality was hitting anew. By the time she got the number, she was sobbing. She disconnected, then collapsed.
“I can’t do this. I can’t. I need to see my mother. My daddy. Susan… I can’t bury them long distance. I have to be there.”
Mike ached for her. This was, in truth, a hell of a mess. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” he said, then handed her his handkerchief. “Are you going to call the funeral home now?”
Cari wiped her eyes, blew her nose, then took a deep breath. “Not yet. I need to think a few minutes. I think I’ll go pack first. Maybe by the time I’m finished, I’ll be able to face talking to someone else.”
“What can I do?” Mike asked.
She pointed to the suitcase. “Carry that into the bedroom for me, I guess.”
“Absolutely,” he said, and followed her down the hall.
Cari started into Susan’s bedroom, then hesitated, once again, staggered by the enormity of what she was about to do. But all it took was remembering Lance and the dead man, and she knew she had no choice. She set her jaw, then strode across the room to the closet as Mike put the suitcase on the bed.
“Let me know when you’re through and I’ll carry it to the car for you,” he said, then left her on her own.
Cari stared at the closet door for a few more moments, then took a deep breath and reached for the knob. The moment she opened the closet, the scent of lavender hit her like a slap in the face. She shuddered. Lavender. A scent she’d always associated with Susan. Now it would be hers—at least for a time.
Gritting her teeth, she quickly sorted through the clothes on the hangers, choosing several outfits, then carrying them to the bed. She packed quickly, anxious to be gone before her emotions caught up with her again. By the time she’d filled the suitcase, she also had underwear, shoes and sleepwear, along with an assortment of Susan’s makeup. Besides being the same height and size, they shared the same skin tone and hair color, so whatever she used would pass, although the lipstick colors were more subdued than what she would have worn.
She fastened the suitcase and started to drag it off the bed, then remembered the doctor’s orders and stopped. Healing was what she had to do first. Undoing the rest of this mess would come later.
As she started down the hall, the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floors alerted Mike. He came to meet her, his expression wreathed in concern.
“How you doing, cher?”
The tenderness in his voice was nearly her undoing. “Not as well as I’d like,” Cari said. “The suitcase is on the bed. Thank you for carrying it for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, leaving her to make her way into the living room.
Suddenly anxious to be out of this house and away from her cousin’s ghost, she went back to the desk and eased down in the chair. There was still the matter of calling Sumner’s Funeral Home, but while she’d been packing, she had come up with a plan.
Her head was pounding, and there was a bitter taste in her mouth as she picked up the phone. “God. I need this day to be over,” she muttered, and made another call to Bordelaise.
Her call was answered promptly, and once again, she recognized the voice. Sarah Beth Spellman had worked for Sumner’s for as long as Cari could remember, which meant she needed to be careful not to give herself away.
“Sumner’s Funeral Home, Sarah Beth Spellman speaking.”
“This is Susan Blackwell. I’ve been told the North family…my family members…were taken there.”
“Yes, they’re here,” Sarah Beth said. “And, honey…I just want you to know I’m so sorry.”
Cari pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, trying not to say too much, or somehow give herself away, but Sarah Beth’s sympathy was getting to her. It was even more difficult to talk to her than it had been talking to Hershel Porter.
“Thank you,” Cari said shakily.
Sarah Beth continued. “We all know you’re the only surviving family member, so the lawyer for the family has had us wait until you were notified to see if you wanted to be the one to make funeral arrangements.”
“I do…. I just have a couple of problems right now,” Cari said.
“You just name a day and time when you want to come in and make arrangements. We’ll do everything we can to make this as easy as possible for you.”
Cari took a deep breath. Lord help me make this work. “I’m grateful for your offer, but I’m going to have to make an unusual request of you.”
“We’ll be honored to do anything we can,” Sarah Beth said.
“I suffered a serious accident a couple of days ago. I just got out of the hospital this morning, and at the moment I’m unable to travel. Not being able to make arrangements in person is devastating to me, but I have no choice. Would it be asking too much if you would—”
At that moment Cari caught a glimpse of a framed photo of herself and Susan, taken last Christmas in front of her mom and dad’s Christmas tree, and came undone. With her focus gone, she was unable to stop the harsh, ugly sobs tearing up her throat.
“I’m sorry… I can’t… I—”
Suddenly the phone was taken out of her hands. She was vaguely aware of Mike’s deep, steady voice, explaining who he was to Sarah Beth and making decisions she couldn’t make for herself. Heartsick to the depths of her soul, she pushed herself up from the chair and stumbled into the kitchen.
She got a glass from the cabinet and thrust it under the faucet, letting it fill, then overflow, unable to stop weeping long enough to take a drink. Suddenly Mike’s arms were around her, and then he was taking the glass out of her hands and pulling her hard against his chest. She didn’t know he was crying with her, but it wouldn’t have mattered.
“Go ahead and cry, cher…cry,” he said softly. “Let it all go. I know…. I know…. It hurts like hell, and you and I both know it’s not fair. I’m sorry. I’m just so, so sorry.”
Cari’s