3.
I had one last stop before the reunion and before I left the next morning. I had to visit Gretha. I knocked on the front door of the shelter house, at least, this time, I smelt like Chanel No. 5 and not like a urinal. The door opened, and a young lady answered wrapped in an oversized apron and adorning a hair net.
'Hi, can I help you?'
'Is Gretha here?'
'Who are you?' she asked very bluntly.
'My name is Yvaine; I was a resident here just over ten years ago.'
'Yvaine, we have all heard about you!'
She stepped aside and gave me just enough space to get past her and into the large familiar hallway before she shut the door and locked it. I looked around at the same pictures hanging on the walls; nothing had changed at all. The lady moved ahead of me.
'Come with me,' she instructed.
We went through the main house and the kitchen, and as we reached the door to the back room, she stopped and turned abruptly to face me.
'I am only permitting you to see Gretha because she spoke so fondly of you.'
I was bewildered.
'Is there something I should know before I see her?'
'You don't know?'
My heart started pounding, and I shook my head.
'I have been out of the country for over a year now and all the emails I sent her were returned.'
She frowned and mumbled something that sounded like "stupid lawyer". I stared at her with wide eyes waiting for an explanation. She took my hand and hurriedly led me back to the kitchen and pulled out a chair indicating for me to sit down. I sat, she put the kettle on and prepared two cups for coffee.
'My name is Luanne,' she started, 'Gretha is dying; she has possibly a week maybe two left.'
She let her tears roll freely, and although her words were blunt, they were meant with love that was as clear as daylight. I gulped in horror. I could tell my throat had swollen double its size with instant distress.
'What? How?'
'It started as cervical cancer and before you could say "bless my soul" it spread to all her organs. Not a day goes by without her asking for you. We all just put it down to her lapses in memory, but clearly she has been hanging on in the hope of seeing you.'
'In the hope of seeing me?' I said, so astonished as I was having a difficult time absorbing all of this news.
'The doctor told us two months ago she only had two weeks and every two weeks it has been two weeks since. They have been amazed that she is still here with us.'
Then I cried. The bubbles of tears ran down my face while my body jerked from the convulsions. What a shock to receive such sad news so unexpectedly.
'I never knew, all, this time, I thought she probably outgrew our friendship with me travelling so much. If I had known, I would've been here sooner.'
I wiped my eyes and blew my nose on the numerous tissues Luanne offered me.
'Then she would have died sooner.'
Again so blunt but so full of compassion. I shuddered at the door to Gretha's room; Luanne had warned me about her minuscule form (I had a hard time trying to visualise her with a small body frame). Softly Luanne turned the door handle and went to stand at Gretha's bedside.
'Gretha, you awake? You have a visitor. Gretha, wake up dear.'
She gently nudged her, continuously prompting her to wake up. I stood in the doorway shaking with fear that I was too late. Was I too late?
Oh Lord please, please don't let me be too late. Let me say goodbye please, please, I begged silently still frozen in the doorway.
Luanne tried without hesitation for a good few minutes without any response, and I felt my knees weaken – I was surely too late. She turned to me pulling me toward her with the motion of her waving hand. I had to fight my legs to make them walk, and when I managed to move I moved ever so slowly, my heart beating aggressively against my ribcage, my body shaking with apprehension expecting to get confronted with the dead face of my dearest friend. I looked at Gretha; she was almost grey in complexion and nothing but a skeleton lying in the middle of the bed. Her eyes moved toward me, and I fell to my knees grabbing her frail cold hand and bursting into heartbroken sobs. I was not too late. Her hand moved in mine comforting me until I had myself under control and was able to give her a big but ever so gentle hug. Her smile was woeful but full of delight to see me. I begged for forgiveness that my emails had not reached her, and I had not been there for her when she had needed me the most. All she did was move her head slightly sideways assuring me it was all okay, and I was there now, and that was all that mattered. It was difficult to hear what she was saying, so I lay down next to her with my head right next to hers. She insisted on hearing all about my travels, especially when I had gone to Venice – it had always been her wish to go there one day.
'I will stay here tonight rather,' I said once the subject of the reunion got raised.
'Oh no, you need to forgive,' she rasped.
She insisted I attend, even on her deathbed she was telling me what to do, and I teased her about it. I was rewarded with a half chuckle and at this stage that was worth a million loud, boisterous laughs. Luanne made me a cheese and tomato sandwich for lunch with a glass of orange juice that I had sitting on the bed with Gretha. She had her dose of whatever it was that she was getting fed via the intravenous tube along with the morphine. Luanne sat in the chair on the opposite side of the bed, and I listened to her story of how she had landed up at the shelter house. She was young at only twenty-five and dressed in a gothic fashion although she insisted she was not into that at all. I had to love Gretha for the way she goaded Luanne.
'Goth child this one,' she whispered and lifted her finger ever so slowly towards Luanne.
Her story was like so many others that got abused by their husbands and their fathers. Managing to escape a prison of a home she had found Gretha in the front garden of the house watering the few plants and instantly knew this was where she was running to for safety.
'Still goi…Church?' Gretha whispered slowly her dull eyes moving to my side of the bed searching for mine.
I leant down near her face, so she was able to hear me clearly, 'Yes my dear, I always find one to attend no matter where I am.'
She nodded her head once and closed her eyes again. I hoped I sounded convincing enough; the truth was I hardly ever went to church anymore. My life was so wrapped up in my antique import-export business that I used Sundays to catch up on the sleep I missed during the week. It suddenly dawned on me that I had not noticed any other residents in the house since I had arrived earlier.
'Are there any other residents in the house? I haven't seen any.'
'When Gretha got the news of how her cancer had spread, and she became so weak, and there were five residents; she found new shelter homes for them and shut down the place.'
'But you stayed?'
Luanne swallowed and with her lips trembling, her head facing down to her hands as they rested on top of her knees she told me, 'I couldn't leave her, I wouldn't leave her. She tried to force me to leave but for once she was not going to get her way.'
She wiped the tears trickling down her face.
'It's the least I can do for everything she has done for me. She sorted my divorce not only from my husband but from my family too. She led me to Jesus and now I have a reason to live because of her.'
She stopped unable to say anymore. I got up and went to her and reached forward to hug her, to cry with her and to share a similar pain of losing the most caring person we both had ever known. We consoled each other and wiped our tears. Gretha was in a deep sleep, and so we went back to the kitchen and sat at the table once more.
'What are you going to do when Gretha passes on?'
Luanne shrugged her shoulders.
'I have not thought that far yet. I have been so concerned with caring for Gretha, and I suppose I've been in a state of denial. I don't have anyone to talk to about that, yes the minister at church would listen, but I am still very embarrassed about my past so that would be very difficult for me.'
As the conversation flowed, I discovered that Luanne had gotten married three months after she had left school and had not studied or gained any form of experience since. What was this beautiful, gentle woman going to do with her life when Gretha was gone? It worried me immensely that she might get so lost she'd land up in another shelter house one day.
Reluctantly I left around five o'clock. Luanne had to attend to Gretha, and I had to get ready for the reunion. It was ridiculous that I had to attend this event when the only person that ever really cared for me was dying and refused to have me for company, insisting I enjoy myself at the reunion. How on earth did Gretha expect me to enjoy myself while she lay there slowly ebbing away from this life? And what was her comment about "I must forgive"? What was that about? I was just so consumed with questions and concerns as I trudged to my car and drove back to the hotel.
Once back in my room, I found my flight tickets and phoned to extend my return flight for two weeks, and if need be, I will change it again. I was not going anywhere again as long as Gretha was alive. The closer the clock ticked toward seven o'clock, the tighter my stomach knotted. I put on a black cocktail dress and my high black Jimmy Choos and left my red hair natural and loose. I applied a little makeup, only enough to hide the fear and anticipation written all over my face, to accentuate my grey eyes and to hide the freckles that came with the red hair. I also hoped it hid the puffiness around my eyes from a day spent in tears and high emotions. Picking up my red leather jacket and my red clutch bag I made for the door. It was now or never, and I made sure for the hundredth time that I had my cellphone and it was fully charged in case Luanne phoned with the worst news. As I stepped out of the elevator and into the foyer of the hotel, I groaned when Julia and Jonathan stepped out of the other elevator, with Julia about to detonate with enthusiasm.
'Do you want to drive with us?'
'No thank you. If I want to leave, I don't want to have to put anyone out.'
'Okay well we'll drive behind you, safety in numbers,' Jonathan offered and I offered a pathetic excuse for a smile in exchange.