Page 49 of Cowboys at Coconuts

Tamping down her anger, Hope attempted calmness. “I’m her daughter.”

The guy who previously stared at his phone became interested. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “You are?”

“Yes, yes, I am.” She pointed toward Larry. “And this is her husband.”

Both nurses gawked at them, then at one another. One raised his finger, picked up a phone, and spoke in hushed tones. Hope pushed her frizzy hair out of her eyes. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck. “Look, we’ve driven six hours to get here. Can we please see her?”

One of them turned away and muttered, “I don’t think there’s any rush.”

“What do you mean?” Hope asked.

“Nothing,” the man said.

Grateful she had brought an overnight bag, she bristled when an unsmiling, thin woman, with severe jet black hair approached them. The woman held out her hand. “I’m Nurse Helga. I understand you’re here to see one of our residents.”

Hope nodded in affirmation.

The stern nurse studied her from head to toe. “And you are?”

“I’m her daughter.” She held up the magazine article and pointed toward Larry. “And this is her husband.”

The nurse crossed her arms. “Interesting. She’s never had visitors before. Why now?”

Losing her patience, Hope pointed with her head. “That’s because we thought she died in the same train accident he was in.” Lowering her voice, she asked, “May we please see her?”

Mouth set in a straight line, the nurse said, “You’re too late.”

Larry finally spoke up. “As in it’s after closin’ hours?”

The nurse shook her head.

“As in what?” Hope asked.

Chapter 46

The stern head nurse studied Hope and Larry for several seconds. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but the woman in the picture killed herself two days ago.”

As one resident wailed in the background, another called for help. Hope gasped. “What? How?”

The nurse waved to a man in a motorized wheelchair. Turning back, she crossed her arms and said flatly, “With one of her plant hangers.”

Hope felt the blood drain from her face. Head spinning, she gripped the counter. “Oh, my God.” She reached for Larry’s arm. “We’re too—” Her voice cracked. “—late.”

Showing no emotion nor compassion, Nurse Helga said, “It happens. She’d been more depressed and bored than usual lately. Too bad she didn’t know about you two. It might have made a—”

Larry clucked his tongue. “That’s a damn shame.” He turned toward Hope. “Guess we should hit the road. It’ll be dark in a few hours.”

Staring dumbfounded at Larry, Hope realized he had memory loss. Still, it was difficult to fathom that he didn’t remember his dead wife. New tears flooded her eyes.I can’t go through the shock, grief, and remorse again. I can’t.

Taking a deep breath, Hope endeavored to pull herself together. A loud sob escaped. “I want to go in her room. I’d like to see if there’s anything we could remove and take as a remembrance.”

Obviously growing impatient and lacking one ounce of compassion, the nurse sighed. “As I said earlier, she never listed any family members. Never once talked about anyone. Never discussedeitherof you.” She crossed her arms again. “She was all alone as far as we knew.”

Wiping her nose with her sleeve, Hope wished her friends were there to comfort her, and she wished Alex were in tow. She’d be able to handle this woman. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she sniffled. “I can’t bury her twice. I don’t think I can bear the sadness.”

The nurse almost smiled. “You won’t have to. She was cremated and buried in the cemetery across the street. We take quick action when there’s no family.”

Hope angrily swiped at the tears running down her cheeks, mad at herself more than anyone. “Dammit. She does have family.Didhave family.”I should have driven here immediately after I saw that newspaper article.She rubbed her forehead as an empty pit in her stomach grew.

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