Nervousness washed over her as Chief Varney exited the vehicle. She saw the cruiser from the flowerbed and ran to assure Chad she was fine. He’d been so kind, so concerned; she didn’t want to impose on him any more than necessary but it wasn’t Chad.
The Chief’s face looked grave. Had some other terrible thing happened? Was someone else dead? But whom? Maybe her grandparents or an aunt or uncle. She still hadn’t had a chance to write them and thank them for their attendance. What if her procrastination had cost her that chance?
“Miss-” Her expression stopped him. “Um, Willow, can we talk for a minute? I have the M.E.’s report.”
It took her a moment to remember what M.E. stood for. Medical Examiner. They knew how mother died. Willow swallowed hard and beckoned him to come inside the house.
In the kitchen, she pulled a piece of ice from the icebox, chipped pieces into a glass, and filled it with water. She handed it to Chief Varney, her hands shaking as she did. Did she want to know what happened? He looked so grave. What if it was hereditary? That’s why they’d done the autopsy in the first place, wasn’t it?
“You know how she died then.” It wasn’t a question.
Varney was out of his element. She was so naïve, so ignorant of so many things and yet she wasn’t unintelligent. Would she understand? Could he explain it-
“Can you just tell me please? All of this waiting is making me nervous.”
For the next twenty minutes, they discussed the aneurysm that killed Kari Finley in her sleep. Chief Varney was surprised by her knowledge and understanding of the blood bubble that exploded at the base of her mother’s brain. Willow, on the other hand, fought the pain of the memory of her mother’s terrible headache that last night. They’d both assumed it was a migraine.
“I should have known- I could have walked to town for an ambulance. We could have had a cell phone like Chad bought me. They are private. Why-” She briefly choked back her sobs. “I’m sorry- I- I-”
She fled the room. Chief Varney listened to her feet pounding up the stairs and a door slamming behind her. For the first time since he’d met her, Willow Finley acted like a normal and grieving young woman.
Outside her house, Chief Varney glanced up at the window from which came the heart wrenching sound of Willow’s grief. Something had to be done. She was so very alone. No one should have to walk this valley alone.
He remembered Chad. The boy had forged a friendship of sorts with Willow. His lips twisted into a wry smile. Ironic- it was ironic how the kid who couldn’t handle her when she reported the death was probably the only one who could help her deal with it.
He reached for his phone. “Hey Tesdall. I’m out here at the Finley place. I gave her the M.E.’s report and she’s taking it kind of hard. Blaming herself. You’d better get out here.”
“Me! Why me?” Chad’s voice was almost a whine.
“That’s an order son.”
***
“Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t…” The words replayed themselves through his mind like a scratched vinyl record on Uncle Zeke’s turntable. They continued to taunt him as he turned down her driveway and parked at the corner of her house.
His usual place. He shouldn’t have a usual place. His truck had worn a path in the grass around the edge of the yard. He started to curse the Chief and stopped himself. The last thing he needed was more trouble with the Lord.
As he stepped from the cruiser, Chad heard Willow’s cries falling from her window. “Why not me Lord? Why!”
He took a deep breath. Why not indeed! His gut wrenched. How callous could he be? He wouldn’t want Cheri alone with no one and false guilt. He’d want someone- anyone, to be there for her
“You know Lord, I’m pretty sure I’ve avoided the ‘here I am Lord, send me’ prayer but apparently You chose me anyway. Remind me to cultivate gratitude sometime. Right now I’m just praying for the grace to get through this. Again.”
Inside, Chad called to her as he climbed the stairs. “Willow? I’m coming up. The Chief-” He paused. It wouldn’t be a good idea to tell her he was only here because the Chief ordered him.
“He mentioned you were hurting.” At the top of the stairs, he saw her face as it peeked out her door.
“Go away.”
“I can’t.” He didn’t dare say why.
“Why not?”
“She would ask,” he grumbled to himself. “We’re all concerned about you. Let’s go for a walk. Talk to me.”
“Yes, please talk to me so I don’t have a chance to blow this,” he silently pleaded.
The door shut. He stared at it wondering what to do next. Should he wait downstairs? Take a drive, check the Mighty Aphrodite for early drunks, and then come back? Had she eaten today? Should he make her something to eat? What was it about Willow that had him constantly fussing over her to eat anyway?
She reappeared mid-thought. Without a word to him, she crossed the hall and disappeared into the bathroom. Water splashed in the sink giving him encouragement that she’d be down soon. He practically fled to the porch but remembering the Chief’s words, he retraced his steps into the house and strode into the kitchen for a glass of water.
She found him there minutes later, her face freshly washed, eyelashes still wet, but whether from washing or crying he’d never know. “Drink.”
“You’re bossy.”
“You need some bossy right now. Drink.”
She smiled. It had worked. You never knew with women. What was meant for an innocent joke became an insult of mammoth proportions to some people of the feminine persuasion.
They walked along the trees to the oak where her mother’s grave was still covered with wilted and dried flowers. “It hasn’t been a week.”
He was confused. It’d been longer- Realization dawned. It hadn’t been a full week since the burial. He had a hard time calling the short service a funeral. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re kind to come out here like this. It was my understanding that men didn’t handle tears very well. Mother used to say that men were allergic to them.”
“Everyone needs time alone to grieve Willow but no one should have to do all of their grieving alone. Do I like tears? No. But I dislike the cause of them even more.”
A glance at her face surprised him. She’d been crying all the while. Tears streamed down her face and left trails on her t-shirt. Somehow, the tears hadn’t reached her vocal chords yet. Torn between the natural inclination to comfort and a deep desire to run, Chad stood there, hands stuffed in his pocket, looking as nearly miserable as she felt.
Her hand brushed aside tears impatiently. Then came a sniffle. Irritably, she glared at him. “Don’t be nice to me. I can’t take it.”
“I can’t just be mean so you won’t cry.”
They sat at the foot of her mother’s grave, Willow weeping. Her arms rested on her knees drawn up to her chest. Her hair fanned around her shrouding her from his sight. The tears flowed freely punctuated by occasional sobs. Chad, unable to help but even less able to leave, awkwardly patted her back occasionally and murmured worthless attempts at comfort.
***
“Someone has a serious case of the grumps,” Judith Crane commented knowingly.
Joe glanced up from a report as Chad slammed his ticket book on the counter. “Something wrong Chad?”
“…just a glorified babysitter. Can’t wait to get to Rockland and do real police work,” Chad muttered under his breath.
Joe’s eyes met the Chief’s as Varney peeked around his office door to see what the fuss was. “Tesdall, you get that Finley girl taken care of?”
“Yes, the babysitter did his job. He didn’t tuck her in and give her a sucker for being good but hey, he’s learning. They didn’t teach him-”
“That’ll do son.” Chief Varney ran a relaxed station but he didn’t tolerate disrespect.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he hung the cruiser keys on the keyboard and clocked out for the day.
As Chad tore from the parking lot, the remaining officers and the Chief stared at one another shocked. Chad was such an even-tempered guy. They’d never seen him like this. Joe and Judith exchanged glances as the Chief disappeared into his office, chuckling. Unfortunately, neither of them heard the Chief murmur, “The boy’s fighting something. Oh won’t Darla love this.”
