Waiting on Sarah Grace

Home*

Thank goodness it's not raining today, and the sky is that beautiful shade of electric blue, no clouds and it makes everything look cleaner. I take a deep breath of the air outside for the first time in a week. I didn't think about how bright it would be outside, especially after being in a dim hospital all week, I really wish someone would have thought to bring me some sunglasses from my truck. Sitting under the hospital entrance is not so bad though, I wish Grit would hurry up bringing the Hummer around. I'm surrounded by bikers. The other club said they would escort us to the house and continue to guard the outside until we leave for Florida. Pops is standing next to my wheelchair scanning the parking lot and I know he's dying for a smoke. Hospital grounds and no smoking, I get why they have that rule, but my poor pops. My brother is on my other side, I look at him, does he always have a stupid look on his face? Maybe it's only around me, we were raised completely different, so it would make since he doesn't understand me too well; he's still my brother and I love him. Shooter stands behind me holding the handles of the chair, he took charge of that as soon as Anne wheeled it in. I am going to miss her, but we traded numbers and she's bringing her grands to the barn as soon as I'm back. He lifted me in the chair again, thankfully I had shorts this time. It's feels so good to wear my clothes after wearing that shapeless tablecloth all week. Soon I'm blinded from the glare of sun reflecting off of chrome, pop's likes all of his vehicles to look the same, shiny black paint and bumper to bumper chrome. Thankfully Grit is finally here.

Shooter lifts me out, being careful of my leg, he slides me in the backseat. He hands the chair back to Anne and gets in beside me, leaning my back up against him, so that my leg can stretch out on the backseat. Pops walks around to the other side and climbs in the backseat, gently lifting my leg to lay across his lap. I lean my head back on Shooter's shoulder and settle in for the drive to my house on Dauphine Street.  Plus, I don't want to watch Grit trying to maneuver this behemoth through the streets in the Quarter. I close my eyes and just relax, enjoying the fact that I'm surrounded by people who love me. I haven't heard from my aunt since she stormed out of my room at the hospital.

The funeral is tomorrow and I'm not going. The people in this vehicle respect my wishes, according to pops, my aunt is pissed. Pop's is going and he said he would be happy to read something for me. Now I have to sit down and write what I'm feeling and how much I'm going to miss her. I'll deal with that when I get settled in front of my laptop. Pops said the detectives want to come interview me after I have time to get settled. I know they have to. Right now, I just want to lay down in my own bed with my cat. I wish I could go to the stables and see my horse; it's going to be a long time before I can get back on. Especially after the doctor threw physical therapy into my future.

Pulling up to my house, my loss hits me again. To see my big Dodge Ram sitting out front, not my mother's practical Camry. I wonder if we had gone in my truck that night ...... no good going there. From the conversations I've overheard these people aren't going to stop and that might not even have been the first attempt. So now, I'm hunted, and I don't even know what this predator looks like.

Shooter pulls me out of the back and lifts me out of the backseat. Maneuvering around doors, furniture and the stair railing, we made it upstairs to my room; he puts me down on the bed and helps me get situated, propped up against pillows. I all of the sudden feel exhaustion taking over.

"There you go baby. Do you need anything? Laptop? Remote? Something to drink? Phone?"

"Will you open the window?"

"Sure thing."

He opens the shutters and raises the window, my curtains blowing in with the fresh breeze. The air still smells stale. "Would you light the candle on the mantel?'