Her Sister's Shoes (6 page)

Sam started on the ground floor and made her way up, looking under beds and in closets. No one had seen her. Not Carlotta, who was cleaning up the kitchen, or Bill, who was in his study talking softly into his cell phone. While checking the bedrooms on the third floor, she noticed light streaming from under the attic door. She opened the door and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. Someone, presumably Lovie, had ransacked Jackie’s perfectly organized attic. Ripped-open cardboard boxes and brown packing paper littered the floor. An artificial tree lay toppled on its side, and one of the hurricane lanterns had fallen off a shelf, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. At the far end of the attic, Lovie was digging through an old steamer trunk, tossing out items left and right—a black feather boa, a pair of red satin heels, and a black beaded evening bag.

Faith arrived on the scene. “What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Sam whispered. “She looks like a starving homeless woman digging through a dumpster for a leftover doughnut.”

Sam and Faith tiptoed across the wooden floor and eased up beside the trunk, careful not to startle their mother. “What are you doing up here, Mom?” Sam asked.

Lovie sat back on her knees. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to find something.” She tossed a brimmed sun hat at Sam like a Frisbee, then returned her attention to the trunk.

Sam caught the hat and set it down on top of the battered dresser beside her. “We can see that, Mom. But what, exactly, are you looking for?”

Lovie’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m not sure.”

Sam took her mother’s arm, gently helped her up, and guided her over to an old wing chair. “Do you know where you are, Mom?”

“Of course,” Lovie said, with a blank expression on her face. She reached into her pocket and removed an antique key attached to a silver chain.

“What does the key fit, Mama?” Faith asked.

“I don’t know.”

Over their mother’s head, Sam and Faith exchanged a look of concern. “Just sit there and rest a minute,” Faith said, rubbing her mother’s back.

Lovie took several deep breaths, then tried to get up out of the chair.

Sam pushed her back down. “Not so fast. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find my pocketbook. I need my car keys.”

Sam spotted Lovie’s silver quilted bag on the floor next to the trunk. “Here’s your bag, Mom. But your car is not here. Faith drove you to the party, and I’m taking you home.”

Lovie knitted her brows in confusion. “What party?”

Sam cut her eyes at Faith. “Jackie’s birthday party. But it’s almost over now. Time to go home.”

Sam and Faith each took one of their mother’s arms, and escorted her down the stairs and outside. Lovie shuffled, as though her feet were encased in concrete blocks, all the way down the driveway. Curtis had parked his motorcycle behind their cars, blocking them in. They settled Lovie on the wooden bench under the magnolia tree beside the mailbox.

Sam was headed back to find Curtis when he stumbled up with the children on his heels.

Jamie wheeled up beside his mother. “Where’d you find her?” he asked, his cheeks rosy and his words slightly slurred. He’d obviously had more than a couple of beers.

“I’ll explain later. Talk to her while we decide what to do.” Sam pulled Faith and Curtis aside.

“What’s wrong with your mama?” Curtis asked. “Has she finally gone and lost her mind?”

“Shut up, Curtis.” Faith elbowed him in the ribs. “This is serious.”

“Do you want me to go find the high and mighty Doctor Bill?” Curtis asked.

“No. There’s no sense in ruining Jackie’s party. I’ll call Bill from the hospital.” Sam turned to Faith. “I need to get Jamie settled in at home. Why don’t I meet you and Mom at the emergency room?”

“What about Bitsy? I can’t let her ride home on the back of the motorcycle with him.” Faith aimed her thumb at her husband, whose head was bobbing back and forth as he tried to follow their conversation.

“You have a point.” Sam grabbed Curtis by the elbow. “Come on. I’ll take you and Bitsy out to your house, then drop Jamie at home.”

“Hell, nah. I’m not leaving my bike here.” He jerked his arm away and stumbled off toward his motorcycle.

Sam waited for Faith to go after him. When she didn’t, Sam said, “You’re not seriously going to let him drive in that condition, are you?”

Tears glistened in Faith’s eyes. “I can’t stop him.”

“Don’t worry.” Sam pulled a wadded-up cocktail napkin out of her pocket and handed it to her sister. “I’ll follow behind him to make sure he gets home.”

Faith dabbed at her tears. “I don’t want Bitsy to be afraid. Will you please make sure she gets her pajamas on and brushes her teeth?”

“Of course.” Placing her hand on Faith’s back, Sam urged her sister toward her truck. “But you need to get Mom to the hospital. She’s acting so strange. What if she’s had a stroke? Every second counts. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Six

Faith

S
am headed south
on Creekside Drive while Faith drove north toward town. She tried not to think about her husband. She didn’t care if Curtis
bashed his own stupid brain in as long as he didn’t hurt anyone else. She envisioned Bitsy kneeling on the pavement beside Curtis’s mangled body, knowing Bitsy would never get over the trauma of seeing her daddy killed right before her eyes.

Next to her in the passenger seat, Lovie stared out of the truck window into the dark night. If only Faith knew what was going on inside her mother’s scrambled mind.

“Did you get a piece of cake at the party, Mama?” Faith asked.

Lovie thought about it for a minute before answering, “I suppose so. It was chocolate, wasn’t it?”

“No, carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Jackie’s favorite. She had it shipped down from Confections, her favorite bakery in Charleston.”

“I remember now,” Lovie said, but Faith was sure she didn’t.

“Your grandchildren were all there. Can you name them?”

“What kind of silly question is that? Of course I can—Jamie, Cooper, Sean, and Bitsy.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Where’s your father? Did we leave him at the party?”

Faith’s skin prickled with fear.
How do I tell my mother her husband has been dead for more than five years?

Faith crossed her fingers. “We’ll meet up with him later, Mama.”
In
heaven
.

Mother and daughter rode on for the next few miles in silence, Faith’s concern growing with each mile. Her daddy’s painful battle with pancreatic cancer had at least been short. She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost her mother. Lovie was Faith’s rock. All her life, her mother had cleaned up after Faith when she’d made mistakes and encouraged her to try things she wasn’t brave enough to attempt on her own. Like going out for cheerleading her junior year in high school. Without an ounce of athleticism in her body, Faith hadn’t made the squad, but knowing she’d tried something new, and survived, gave her the courage she needed to join the yearbook staff. As her problems with Curtis worsened, she needed Lovie, her rock, more than ever—not this emotionless zombie sitting next to her.

“Where are you going?” Lovie asked when Faith made a left-hand turn onto Main Street instead of going straight. “Aren’t you taking me home?”

Surprised to hear the bossiness back in her voice, Faith glanced over at her mother. She saw that Lovie’s eyes once again sparkled with life.

“Do you remember where we’ve been?” Faith asked.

“What do you mean, do I remember where we’ve been? We’ve been at Jackie’s birthday party.”

Just like that, as though a hypnotist had snapped his fingers and brought her mother out of her spell. Five minutes ago she didn’t remember what kind of cake she’d eaten at the party. Five minutes ago she thought her father was still alive.

Faith ignored her mother’s question and drove on. Sam would know what to do.

“Where are we going, Faith? I’m tired, and ready for my bed.”

Faith let out a sigh. “We’re meeting Sam at the hospital.”

“The hospital? Did someone get sick at the party?”

“Yes, Mama. You. You’re the one who got sick at the party.”

“That’s ridiculous. I feel perfectly fine. Now take me home.”

Faith pulled into the hospital parking lot and found a spot close to the emergency room entrance. She turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered a couple of times before dying. “If you can tell me what you were looking for in Jackie’s attic, I’ll take you home.”

Her mother’s face paled. “I don’t remember being in Jackie’s attic.”

“Really, Mama? You tore her attic apart like you were Hurricane Lovie.”

“Was I looking for something?”

“That’s what we all wanna know. You told us you were looking for something, but you couldn’t tell us what it was.”

Lovie fingered the antique key she now wore on a chain around her neck.

“You probably had some kind of spell.” Faith wiped away an orange lipstick smudge from the side of her mother’s mouth. “I’m sure everything is fine, but we’d all feel better if the doctor checked you out.”

Lovie gathered her belongings and reached for the door handle. “I suppose you’re right.”

After providing insurance information and a brief description of the evening’s events to the woman at the admission’s desk, a willowy young nurse named Bridget whisked Lovie back to an examining room. “We don’t waste any time when someone presents with your symptoms.”

Bridget handed Lovie a gown, and Faith helped her mother pull her blouse up over her head. “She seems perfectly fine now, but an hour ago my mama was a walking, talking zombie who barely even knew her own name. Do you think it’s strange that she doesn’t seem to remember anything that happened tonight?”

“I’ve seen stranger things in here.” Bridget strapped a blood pressure cuff on Lovie’s arm. “But we’ll get to the bottom of it, whatever it is.” Bridget repeated the blood pressure test three times with the same result—150 over 100.

“Isn’t that really high?” Faith asked.

“I’ve seen higher,” Bridget said. “A lot of times a patient’s blood pressure will spike at the thought of being in the hospital. We call it the White Coat Syndrome.”

Faith took a seat and watched Bridget perform an EKG on her mother’s heart and insert an IV in her arm.

The doctor arrived a few minutes later. She guessed him to be about her age, with sandy-colored hair receding at his temples and thinning across the top. He carried a little extra weight around his middle and in his face, but Faith appreciated a guy who filled out his jeans. Unlike Curtis who didn’t have enough meat on his bones to hold up his pants.

After introducing himself as Dr. Mike Neilson, he turned his attention to the patient, using his stethoscope to listen to her heart and lungs. He asked Lovie simple questions, which she answered correctly. She named the president of the United States and stated the current month and year. But when he asked her about the events of the night, she barely remembered being at Jackie’s party.

“To give you an idea of how confused my mom was earlier,” Faith said, “in the car on the way over here, she asked me why we left my daddy at the party. He’s been dead for five years.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, but didn’t appear too alarmed. He checked for other symptoms that might indicate a stroke—drooping face, difficulty speaking, weakness in the arm—none of which she presented.

He studied her EKG. “Your lungs are clear, and your heart appears healthy. But I am concerned about your blood pressure and the confusion. Oftentimes these brief losses of memory are unexplainable, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of a TIA.”

“A TI who?” Lovie asked.

“A TIA, which is an acronym for Transient Ischemic Attack, otherwise known as a ministroke.”

Lovie’s eyes filled with tears.

The doctor patted her arm. “Millions of people have TIAs every day, most of them undetected. The danger, however, is that a major stroke will follow. With your permission, I’d like to keep you overnight so that we can monitor your vitals and run some additional tests in the morning.”

Lovie smiled. “Whatever you think is best, Doctor.”

He patted her arm again. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to check on the availability of a room for you.”

Faith followed him into the hall.

“Excuse me, Dr. Neilson. Can I talk to you for a minute in private?”

“Certainly.” He took her by the elbow, pulling her aside as a team of EMTs rushed past with an elderly woman on a gurney. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Faith.”

“Faith.” The single syllable rolled off his tongue in a lazy Southern drawl. “I find inspiration in names like Hope and Faith,” he said, as he fixed his pale-blue eyes on her.

Faith’s left thumb searched for her missing wedding band. Her engagement ring with the diamond chip and matching wedding band had provided groceries for a week with enough left over for Curtis to buy booze for a three-day bender.

“Mama’s been acting kind of strange lately, and I’m worried it might be related to this spell she had tonight.”

“Can you give me some examples of this out-of-character behavior?”

“Well … my mom is kind of a neat freak, and I haven’t been to her townhouse in weeks, but earlier this evening, when I picked her up for the party, I found the place a shambles.” Faith paused, taking in a deep breath. “And, not only that, she keeps asking the same questions over and over again. We tell her the answers, then three minutes later, she asks the question again.”

“Many people her age experience short-term memory loss. The tests I’ve ordered might give us some indication of what’s going on. Our neurologist, Dr. Baugh, is not on call tonight, but I’ll pass your mother’s case on to him first thing in the morning and have him stop in to see her on his early rounds.”

When he saw her look of frustration, he added, “Doctors have a process to go through, Faith. We eliminate possibilities, then consider others. Sometimes it takes weeks, maybe even months. Other times we get it right the first go-around.”

“I understand. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Don’t you worry. Your mother is in good hands,” Dr. Neilson said before heading to the nurses’ station.

Sam appeared suddenly at her side. “How’s Mom?”

“Better.” Faith filled her sister in on the latest developments, about how their mother had snapped out of her spell and about everything the doctor had said.

“Why don’t you go on home. I’ll stay here with Mom. When I left your trailer, Curtis was passed out on the sofa.”

“In that case, I should get home to Bitsy. But first, let me go in and say goodbye to Mama.”

The sisters crowded around their mother’s bed. “How’re you feeling, Mom?” Sam asked.

“Like I’m ready to go home,” Lovie said, her eyes bright with hope.

“You heard the doctor,” Faith said. “You have to stay here overnight, so they can finish running their tests. I’m going home to check on Bitsy, but Sam’s going to stay with you.”

“You should both go home.” Lovie smiled over at her nurse, who was typing something on a laptop computer. “Bridget will take care of me.”

Bridget looked up from the laptop. “At least until they move you to your room. They’ll assign you another nurse upstairs. She’ll attend to you during the night.”

Lovie appeared frightened, and Sam said, “I’m not going anywhere, Mom, until I know you’re settled in your room.”

Faith kissed her mother on the forehead and gave Sam a quick hug before wending through the maze of corridors to the lobby. According to the clock above the main entrance, she had five more minutes until she turned into a pumpkin.

Faith seldom went out at night, and hardly ever alone. Driving down her long dark driveway, she imagined shadows in the trees waiting to jump out at her. Curtis’s bike wasn’t in its usual place in front of the trailer, and for the second time that night, goose pimples broke out all over her body. Surely her husband wouldn’t leave their daughter alone.

Faith unlocked the do
or and entered the dark trailer, tripping over the coffee table as she groped for the lamp.

She heard what sounded like muffled cries coming from her daughter’s room. She found Bitsy trembling under the covers in her bed, her teeth chattering. Faith wrapped the child in her arms and held her tight. “Hush now, baby. Mama’s here.”

Bitsy sobbed even louder.

“Shh, now. Try to take a deep breath.”

Whimpering, the tiny girl buried her face in her mother’s chest. “I got up to go to the potty and you weren’t here.”

“I know, baby.” Faith stroked her daughter’s hair. “Remember, I had to take your grandmama to the hospital.”

Bitsy pushed away so she could see her mother’s face. “Is Lovie going to be okay?”

Faith wiped a damp strand of hair out of the child’s eyes. “She’s better already, much more herself.”

“Why’d you leave me alone?” Bitsy asked, her lip quivering.

Faith reached for the lamp on her bedside table. “Daddy’s here with you, isn’t he?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Bitsy shook her head. “He was asleep on the sofa when I went to bed, but now he’s gone.”