The ballooning sense of dread in my heart kept expanding. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a little while?”
“Not at all.” Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I’m just going to rest now.”
“All right.” I restrained myself from texting her sons with urgent messages to hurry when I had no reason to believe her languor was due to more than exhaustion and heartache. Unable to shake the warning prickles that portended nothing good, I checked on Cole. “Hey.”
“Hey.” His rigid posture relaxed. “How is she?”
“Not well,” I said under my breath, certain he would hear. “I can’t shake this feeling I’m going to lose her too.”
He gave an understanding nod. “Death forces us all the view life through the lens of our own mortality.”
Once again, the assurance she would recover, that I was overreacting, never surfaced, and I was almost glad. I wouldn’t have believed him anyway.
“I’m going back in.” I checked my phone. “We have about four hours until we pick up Jamal.”
“I’ll be right here,” he assured me. “Go sit with your aunt.”
The hours passed in slow motion, the rise and fall of her chest my only entertainment. I had my phone. I could have played a game or watched a movie, but I had this ridiculous idea that my gaze was the only weight pinning her down, that if I looked away, even for a second, she would drift off to wherever she had been staring.
The silent alarm I’d set buzzed in my pocket, and I had a choice to make.
Aware I was being utterly ridiculous, I crossed to Aunt Nancy and pressed a kiss to her smooth forehead. “I love you.” The steady flutter of her pulse gave me the strength the leave. “I’ll be back soon with Jamal. You won’t be alone. I’ll send Mo-Mo up to sit with you until we return.”
Cole peeled away from the door when I walked through it, and we made our way downstairs. The house still hummed with voices, music, and laughter. I scanned each room we passed in search of Mo-Mo, but found her on the porch knitting with a circle of their friends.
“I’m going to pick up Jamal,” I told her. “Would you mind keeping watch over Aunt Nancy until I get back?” I worried my teeth over my bottom lip. “She just seems…”
Without another word, Mo-Mo bundled up her gear. “She’ll be right as rain once her boys get here. Those grandbabies of hers always put a spark in her eyes.” Her smile widened. “Oh, and John called. He’s coming for a visit before work tomorrow.”
“That’s great.” As good and pissed as he rightfully was at me, I hadn’t expected Rixton to show up on my doorstep with a shoulder for me to cry on, but a text from him would have been nice. Still, I was grateful he hadn’t abandoned my family, even if he had cut ties with me. “That’s… great.”
As Mo-Mo trundled past, I wasted no time heading for the Bronco. I could tell from the stares that Cole was right there with me. We made the drive to the airport in record time, and Jamal, who was the spitting image of Uncle Harold, cupped my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “How is she?”
“I left her napping.” I eased from his grip to stand beside Cole. “She was tired when I arrived, there have been so many visitors. We didn’t talk long.”
“Who’s your friend?” Jamal was sizing up Cole, and despite his grim eyes, a tight smile manifested.
“This is Cole Heaton.” I touched his arm. “Cole, this is Jamal Trudeau, the baby of the family.”
“You must like this one if you’re out to discredit me from the get-go.” Jamal extended his hand and shook Cole’s meaty paw. “I’m glad you’re here, man. What Luce walked in on…” He ducked his head. “That couldn’t have been easy for her. I’m grateful she has a friend at her back.” His brows gathered. “Where’s John?”
A baseball bat to the solar plexus would have hurt less. “I haven’t spoken to him today.”
For several days, longer than any stretch in our partnership. Former partnership.
“Oh.” Perceptive man that he was, he let the matter drop. “I touched base with Elliot. He’ll be here around noon with the fam in tow.”
The overnight bag slung across his shoulder was all the luggage he’d brought with him, so we didn’t have to wait at the baggage claim. After grabbing him a coffee for the trip out to Mo-Mo’s, we piled into the Bronco and drove in heavy silence.
The uneasy feeling that had plagued me since visiting Aunt Nancy started wringing my stomach out like a wet towel. The frenetic buzzing of mourners torqued me further still, and that was before I spotted the white box on wheels with the seizure-inducing strobes splashing color across so many pale faces.
“Sweet Jesus,” Jamal breathed. “Stop the car. Luce, stop.”
I slammed on the brakes, and he leapt from the Bronco. I had the presence of mind to make sure I wasn’t blocking the road in case the ambulance needed an escape route, but the other vehicles got no such consideration from me as I left the Bronco wedged behind four other cars and bolted after Jamal.
We hit the porch at the same time the paramedics exited with a stretcher. The still form under a white sheet required no introduction, and Jamal crumpled. His knees hit the deck, and his palms slapped in front of him. The only thing preventing a total collapse was Mo-Mo, who had seen him coming and wrapped her arms around his middle.
“What happened?” He choked out the demand. “I don’t understand. I don’t…”
“Sir.” The paramedic nearest him shared a look with her partner, who nodded. “Mrs. Trudeau was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer three months ago. The information was on her emergency medical identification bracelet.”
Jamal was shaking his head, but I had lost all mobility.
Cancer.
The answer to an unasked question had just been provided to me.
Guilt had been riding me so hard, I hadn’t stopped to ask myself the most basic question. Why would my uncle, a God-fearing man, offer up his soul? What could a charun have offered him that made the use of his body, accepting the taint of what he must have viewed as such evil, worthwhile? There was only one reason why he would have given himself unto Famine, and that was love.
He would have sacrificed himself without a second thought for a member of his family. For his wife? He would have signed any deal, made any trade, agreed to any bargain, if it meant healing her.
This explained so much. Her fatigue, her loss of appetite, her headaches. Signs I had misinterpreted as proof she had been taken as a host were, in hindsight, evidence of her illness. No wonder Famine had risked claiming my uncle even though playing his role within the community, within his family, was daunting compared to the relative ease with which she could have assumed Aunt Nancy’s identity. Famine’s parasitic nature required sustenance, and Aunt Nancy’s body had nothing left to offer.
“Let’s get you inside.” Mo-Mo stroked Jamal’s back. “Come on, sweet boy. That’s it. Almost there.”
Cole edged around me, accepting the crumpled burden from Mo-Mo, and hauled Jamal upright. When he kept weaving on his feet, Cole lifted him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and trundled Jamal into the living room, where he deposited him on the couch.
Unable to suck down enough oxygen to keep my lungs pumping, I bowed out while everyone focused on Jamal. I jogged out onto the porch, and when that wasn’t enough, I kept going through the yard. I broke into a run at the edge of the road, fleeing the miserable scene, and hit my stride as the graveled drive turned to asphalt. I kept pumping my legs until all I knew was the burn, and I didn’t stop until I turned my ankle and took a nasty spill. Palms out to catch myself, I scraped them as raw as hamburger meat on impact.
“Let me take you home,” Cole said from behind me.
Of course he had followed me. He hadn’t even broken a sweat pacing me.
“I don’t have a home,” I said miserably. “It’s gone, like everything else.”
“You still have your father,” he reminded me. “You still have us.”