Mattie's Call (26 page)

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Authors: Stacy Campbell

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“What's your name?”

Mattie didn't speak.

“Her name is Maude.”

Mattie snatched her purse from Ursula and held it to her chest. She decided to suppress her pain in an attempt to make them leave. If she stopped screaming, maybe they'd go. “You not planning on keeping me long, are you?” she asked above a whisper. “If you give me some Advil PM or a sedative, I'll rest here. I don't like hospitals.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, Ms. Maude. Terrance and I are here to take care of you. You'll love the team at Habersham. We'll have you back home in no time.”

Mattie relented. She'd think of something during the ride along.

“Your name is—”

“Ursula. I'm a friend of Maude's.”

“Can you contact her next of kin to tell them we're en route to Habersham?”

“She has no family. I'm all she's got.”

“Very well.”

“I'll lock up and ride with her.”

Ursula locked the door and climbed in back of the ambulance.

“I'm with you, Maude. You don't have anything to worry about.”

Tears streamed down Mattie's face as Ursula rubbed her hands.

41
A Case Of Mistaken Identity

T
wo hours passed as Ursula waited. She swilled the last of her stale coffee and made lines with her nails in the Styrofoam cup. Other family members sat patiently as their relatives were being seen in triage. She walked to the nurse's station.

“Where is your restroom?”

“Just down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

She used the bathroom and sat next to the same gentleman she'd chatted with earlier. She grabbed a magazine and flipped several pages when a nurse approached her.

“Hi. I'm nurse McArthur. Are you here with—” she eyed the clipboard—“Maude Benefield?”

“Yes.”

“How are you related to the patient?”

“We're not related. I'm her neighbor.”

“Are any relatives available?”

“No.”

“Could you tell me what happened before the ambulance arrived?”

“She called me complaining of leg cramps. I got down to her cabin as fast as I could and called the ambulance. She didn't want to come to the hospital at all.”

“That's the general sentiment of our elderly patients.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Should be. We have her stabilized and she's napping. We'll need you to fill out some forms. Routine procedure. We'll need Mrs. Benefield's insurance information for billing purposes. Any other questions you have can be answered by the attending physician.”

Ursula took the clipboard, sinking into her seat. She hadn't been in a hospital since her husband's illness. The smell of commercial antiseptic tickled her nostrils as she got to work on the questions. She aced the top portion of the form with Maude's name and address.

Who thinks to ask friends questions about medications? Family physician? Allergies? Surgeries? She left most of the questions blank. A few of her friends in New York created medical cheat sheets for each other as a cautionary measure.
I should've done the same thing with Maude.

Nurse McArthur reappeared. “Before I forget, here's Mrs. Benefield's purse. She held on to it for dear life until she fell asleep. You'll probably need it to get her insurance information.”

“Thanks so much, Nurse McArthur.” She placed it in her lap. “I'm naming this purse Fort Knox. She guards it like a hawk.”

Nurse McArthur chuckled. “I bet she's got a million dollars in that thing.” She crossed her fingers and gave Ursula a wide grin as she walked away.

She unzipped the purse, admiring its neatness and order. As she guessed, three stacks of bills with paper clips lined the bottom of the purse. She took out the wallet and searched for an insurance card. Maude's impish grin on her license warmed Ursula's heart. Today was her birthday. For the first time since they'd become acquainted, she caught a glimpse of Maude's beautiful dark brown eyes. There were also photos of two women and a man who resembled her friend. Ursula gripped the side of the chair when she read the name
Mattie Benson.

She searched the area for Nurse McArthur. Perhaps this was the wrong purse, or a case of mistaken identity. She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them. Same face. Same smile. Her skin tingled as she flipped through receipts and credit cards. She was gripped with a sudden coldness.

Calm down, Ursula. Calm down.

Still feeling a weird sense of loyalty toward Maude, or Mattie, she concocted a lie and approached the nurse's station again.

“Excuse me,” she said in a shaky, disbelieving voice.

The receptionist looked up from the computer screen chomping a huge wad of gum. “Yes.”

“Ummm, I've been working with a family trying to find their grandmother. Do you know where I could find out whether a person is missing? Do you have a database of some sort here?”

“We don't. Do you have Internet access?”

“I do.”

“If the person is missing, they'll be in the GBI database.”

“GBI?”

“Georgia Bureau of Investigation.”

“Any other sites?”

“If you have the man or woman's name and they're elderly, look to see if a Mattie's Call was placed.” She blew a huge bubble and switched her Bluetooth from her right ear to the left.

Mattie's Call. The irony.
“Thank you.”

She whipped out her smartphone and plopped down in her chair. Her hands trembled as she accessed the GBI database. Faces of men and women popped up on the screen. She typed in the name “Mattie Benson” with no luck. She switched to Bing and typed in “Mattie Benson.” At least a dozen hits crossed the screen. One article titled “Funeral for Mattie Benson held at El Bethel” jumped out at her. She scrolled to an obituary through Legacy.com, clicked on it, and sank deeper in her seat as she read. Not only did Mattie have family members, but she was loved by the community as evidenced in the guest book signatures. She dug in the purse again and found Mattie's phone. She looked through the contacts and found the name “Joshua.” She took a deep breath and dialed his number.

42
Stop Playing On The Phone!

J
oshua planned the siblings' only affair at their childhood home. Since their last check-in with Durk, they each made a point to contact each other through calls and text messages.

They agreed that no more than forty-eight hours would pass between them without some form of communication.

“Think she would've liked this spread?” Alice asked. She scooped potato salad onto the good china Mattie reserved for special occasions.

Gabrielle set slices of the spiral HoneyBaked Ham on a large platter and called over her shoulder, “Only if she had a say in every single piece of food served. She was so picky.” She snuck a piece of ham and kept her back turned.

“Smells like you nailed the dressing, Gigi,” Joshua said.

With her back still turned, she curtsied. “I do my best to please,” she said, chawing the ham.

“Sneaking food like always, huh?” Alice asked.

Joshua decorated the dining room in Mattie's favorite colors, red and blue. The three of them dug out some of her recipes or made her dishes from memory. She believed a good dinner should have one or two meats, three sides, a great homemade drink, and one dessert. She didn't like to go overboard with food.

“Did Langston ever talk to Deborah?” Gabrielle asked.

“Finally. She wasn't thrilled about him getting to know me, but he's a grown man who can make decisions for himself.”

“I'm looking forward to him joining us for Thanksgiving,” said Alice. “By then I should have the keys to my new house. I'd like to host dinner.”

“You?” he asked.

“I've wanted to host dinners, entertain guests, and have barbecues for years.”

“We always had the best parties on the block. Our parents never met a stranger and made folks feel welcome. It will be a smooth transition for you, Alice.” Gabrielle placed the platter on the table.

“I'm so hungry my stomach is tap dancing. Let's eat,” said Joshua.

Joshua led them in prayer as they held hands. The food's aroma filled the room like old times. They hadn't said “Amen” before Gabrielle swiped two yeast rolls from a plate. Joshua chided her but gave her butter.

He passed the scalloped potatoes and asked, “So we're all in agreement about selling the house?”

“We should. No one is living here and I'm not excited about the prospect of being a landlord. Even if a rental company handled it, people don't take care of your things like you do,” said Gabrielle.

“What about all the things in here?” Alice poured sweet tea from a pitcher.

Gabrielle's excitement grew. “Yard sale. We could net a small mint from all the clothes, shoes, and household items in here.”

“Dad always wanted us to have a place to come home.”

“I get that, Josh, but neither of us needs this house.” She faced Gabrielle. “Didn't you say this was too much room for you?”

“It is. It's paid for, but the money we'll pay out for taxes and insurance could be used for other things. I don't need this much space.”

“Another thing we need to consider is—”

His cell phone interrupted his comment.

“Thought you turned the ringer off,” said Alice. She playfully rolled her eyes at him. She hadn't gotten used to having a phone in the dining room or at dinnertime. One more lingering effect from the Beryl days she would conquer. “At least take it off the table. Those things are appendages.”

“I keep it handy for work or if Langston needs me.”

“Synaria too?” Gabrielle teased.

He ignored her question and silenced the phone. “I don't recognize the number anyway.”

“Don't think I'm dropping the Synaria subject. I think you two would make a good couple if you stop joking around.”

“Oh, you can pry in my personal life but won't tell me who you were with at the park last week?”

“Gigi was with someone?” Alice asked.

“Some light-skinned guy with freckles. By the time I made my way to her, they were gone.”

“Peter is a friend. I got off work early and we had a sandwich. Simple as that, Josh.”

“So you say.”

The phone vibrated again.

“Maybe I should get this. Some desperate soul is calling back to back.”

He answered the phone, then abruptly ended the call.

“Who was that, Josh?” Alice asked.

He rubbed his hands and took a long swig of sweet tea. “I'm not dealing with any crazies tonight.”

“What?” Gabrielle's hands shook.

“It's some crazy wo—”

The phone vibrated. This time he swiped it from the sideboard and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” The distant, unfamiliar voice sounded desperate.

“Who is this? Why are you harassing us?”

“Don't hang up again. My name is Ursula Kinsey and I'm at the Habersham Medical Center with your mother, Mattie Benson.”

Gabrielle dropped her fork; Alice's eyes widened.

“Listen, lady, I don't know who you are, but you need to stop playing on the phone! How did you get my number anyway?”

“You don't understand. I found your number in her purse after she got sick earlier. I befriended her several months ago and thought her name was Maude Benefield. I'm here at the hospital and don't want to cause a commotion, but your mother is still alive.”

“We had her funeral months ago.”

“I read the obituary. I also read about the Mattie's Call. She's still alive. We're at the hospital because she was having leg cramps.”

Alice scooted closer to the phone. Something about the stranger on the other end made her believe her mother was still in the land of the living. Karen from Grand Oak had told her about Mattie's leg cramps. She'd intended to send her to a doctor, but Beryl told her they couldn't afford it. “If you found her purse, what's inside?”

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