“You used me as a kid.” I keep going. I don’t know why I’m suddenly sour about it. Had my whole life to think on it, and yet right now all that bitterness is rearing its ugly head. Grandmama’s gone. Adaire, too. Bone might go to jail. And it feels like people are dying left and right around here. The whole world seems to be sliding off a cliff. The weight of this is crowding on my chest, suffocating me.
“Bone might go to jail for something that had nothing to do with him,” I tell her. “Hell, they still might come after me. Did you know what Rebecca Rutledge was going to do with my Sin Eater Oil? How she planned to use it?”
Aunt Violet’s crossed legs start to jog. What I’m dumping on her shoulders and forcing her to deal with—to face—sets her on edge. She fumbles in her purse for her pack of smokes, pulling them out like she’s about to light up. Then she remembers where she’s at—hospital waiting room—and stuffs them back in her purse.
She sighs.
Something long and deep, like the last fight in her is gone, and she’s decided to lay it all out there for the good Lord to sort through.
“I didn’t know for sure,” Aunt Violet mumbles, still not quite ready to look at me. “But I knew she intended to do something bad with it. I wish I could say that if I knew how she was gonna use it, I wouldn’t have given it to her. But I’d be lying to ya.
“I was bad off back then. Worse on the bottle than I ever got to be. Your uncle Doug had died, and I was stuck raising two kids on pennies with a shit job. I ain’t saying that’s an excuse.” She gives me a clipped look. “I’m just saying my head was too clogged full of bullshit, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you or him—” She thumbs over to Bone Layer. “Or nobody.”
She pauses and steals a look at me, making sure I am hearing her. I am trying to, at least.
“I just needed to get through the hard part life had given me back then. Seems like the hard parts are always coming at you, though. You know? You just about get one thing dealt with, then you’re thrown another. I wish I had a clean slate to work with. A clear head so I can right all my wrongs. Get my life straight for once.” Aunt Violet looks at me again, really looks at me. Like she sees me and all the hurt I’ve been run through.
And I see her, too. She has a good heart with all the love to give, despite all the shit she’s pulled. She sits up taller, a small moment of clarity washes the shame off her face, like she’s suddenly remembering that life ain’t over for her yet. It’s not too late to fix things.
Aunt Violet’s chin gets to quivering. Her eyes glass over. She cups her hands around mine. “I’m going to do right by you from now on. You hear me?” Tears slip down her cheeks. Mine, too. “I already lost one baby girl. I don’t want to lose you, too. Okay? I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” She pulls me in for a tight hug. I bury my face into her shoulder and let the sobs come.
The front doors to the hospital split open and Oscar steps through. I pull away from Aunt Violet, wiping my face clear.
“I came as soon as I heard,” he says. The way he crosses the room so intently toward me, it almost feels like we’re still dating. It’s odd now to see him out of his uniform and in regular clothes. The green T-shirt looks good against his tan skin. And those broken-in pair of Levi’s jeans are my favorite on him.
Aunt Violet and I stand as he approaches.
“So sorry about your mother, Violet.” He brushes an empathetic hand over her arm. “You two doing alright?” Oscar asks both of us, but he’s studying my eyes to get the true answer.
“It feels a bit different, now that she’s gone.” Lighter, my mind decides. It does feel lighter the more reality sets in. Hopeful, even.
“You know if there’s anything y’all need, I’m just a phone call away,” Oscar says. We both nod. “And, hey,” he says to me, “if you feel uncomfortable staying at the house alone...” It’s almost like he’s about to offer me his place. “Um—” he glances at Aunt Violet “—you can probably stay with Violet. Or Raelean. Just know you have options.”
I consider reminding Oscar that Bone Layer will be just out back in the smokehouse, but maybe not after the court makes their decision.
“Yeah. I’ll be alright.”
One of the doctors interrupts us, and Oscar gives us our space. As the doc starts talking, Davis arrives, still in his ambulance uniform from the night shift. He frantically looks around until he sees me. He gives a quick wave, letting us speak privately with the doctor.
The doctor wants to know which funeral home we’d like to send the body to. An odd horrified look moves across his face as we inform him we take care of our dead ourselves. It’s a rare practice, but it’s still legal in Georgia. I probably won’t do it ever again, but it’s our way of things, and I know it’s what she would want. Besides, I have a few particulars I want to send Grandmama off into the afterlife with.
It’ll take a few days with the paperwork that must be filled out before he can release her body to us. Aunt Violet follows the doctor to make everything official.
As soon as they step away, Davis swoops in with a big hug.
“Girl, you have been through way too much,” he says into my hair. I appreciate the fact he holds on a little longer.
“I got your message. I was on call over in Camden. I had no idea the wreck was you. I came as soon as my shift ended,” he says as he releases me. “Don’t worry about the truck. I used the wrecker and hauled it back to the junkyard. Looks like a busted axle, but we can get that fixed. How’s your grandmother?”
There’s a blank look on my face, and I don’t know how to say the words. So instead I answer, “I couldn’t save her.”
Davis gives me another long hug, telling me he’s sorry. I’ve never understood why people apologized when someone dies. Sorry only goes so far with grief, and it’s never far enough.
“Today was a rough day for you. When you’re feeling a little better, let’s talk some more.” Davis’s words are a bit ominous.
“Talk more about what?”
He hems and haws, uncomfortable.
“Spit it out already,” I burst at him.
“Okay.” He holds his hands up in innocence. “I found something out that helps us. Helps with Adaire’s case. Wanda, my friend at the courthouse, called me back.”
I straighten at this bit of news.
“She got me the VIN number to Lorelei’s car.”
As a man wheels his elderly mother through the hospital lobby, Davis tips his head for us to head out front away from prying ears.
It’s muggy outside with the heat of the evening mixing with last night’s rain.
Davis waits until the hospital’s sliding doors close before he continues. “I was able to track the car to a salvage lot in Ohio. I called the owner of the lot, and he confirmed he had it.”
“What kind of damage?” My pulse jackhammers inside my ears.
“He found no visible signs of blood or hair from ‘hitting a deer.’” He air-quotes his words.
“Okay. Lorelei probably cleaned off any visible evidence on the grill. Maybe there’s something on the underside?”
