Chapter 7
Devon could hardly breathe all afternoon. The closeness to Nick’s body felt like it made her blood boil. Her pulse was pounding like she’d had three cups of coffee.
She nearly got into an accident on her way back to the office. After daydreaming in front of the computer for an hour, she realized she wasn’t going to get anything done. Since she had no appointments, she decided to leave early and pack her suitcase for a stay at Sophie’s.
Was she doing this for Sophie, or did she secretly want to be close to Nick? The way he moved, the way his voice sent a shiver down her spine were all pleasant recollections as she moved with zombie-like slowness, picking out her tops and jeans, a pair of old running shoes she knew she’d need for working in the yard, sunscreen and all her shampoo sample bottles.
She went to her underwear drawer and exposed the bright pink Rabbit vibrator amongst her lacy things. She’d won the orphaned device at a bachelorette party. The new feelings she was having as a result of being so close to Nick were like those first stolen moments when she dared to turn the thing on and let it touch her. Closing her eyes, she imagined what it would be like if he touched her there.
With a shudder, she willed herself to finish her packing and get over to Sophie’s. Inquiries were already coming in about the property, and if Nick was right and Sophie was in foreclosure, they’d have to hurry to get it sold in time. It would be the worst thing in the world to have her watch the bank take it back. Devon decided she would not let that happen.
The meandering roadway on Bennett Valley was always a pleasant drive for her. Turning down Sophie’s drive she was disappointed to note Nick’s Hummer was not in the lot. But Sophie’s car was.
The sign read closed, which was odd. The door to the office was locked so she went around the back. The house was also locked up.
She dialed Sophie’s cell phone and got voicemail.
Thirty seconds later, Nick returned her call.
“We’re at her oncologist’s office.”
“What’s going on?”
“She hasn’t stopped vomiting since last night. They’re giving her fluids and sending her home with some pain meds, but he thinks we need to call hospice.”
“Oh no. Already?”
“He said he was trying to get her to do it a month ago.”
“That’s our Sophie.” She waited for tears in her eyes to subside so her voice wouldn’t waver. “So, should I get anything for her, or just wait here?”
“You’re at the house?”
“Yes, I decided to stay over.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Nick said, “I’m glad. Sophie will be relieved.”
Devon walked down the rows of gallon cans set on black plastic cloth. She knew Sophie had started most of the plants either from graft or seed. At one time these had been lush and green. Now the lack of attention had created a slew of yellowed leaves and dried flowers that needed deadheading.
She wandered into the greenhouse where Nick had soaked her with the hose. There was a small wooden sign that read “Sophie’s Specials” with a variety of unusual plants underneath on wooden benches. Sophie told her she had collected heirloom seeds of all sorts from local organic growers, and exchanged them for grape cuttings or fruit trees she’d multigrafted. Devon had accompanied her on her bi-weekly trips to the local farmer’s market, where she always found something interesting or new. All the farmers shared a common bond: what they do they did because they loved it, not because it made any of them any money.
Devon wished one of them would be able to buy the nursery. That way, “Sophie’s Specials” would survive a few years longer.
Will anyone care about it half as much as Sophie does?
Big tires on the gravel driveway signaled Nick was back with his precious cargo. She saw Sophie in the front seat, looking even smaller than before, dwarfed by the huge roaring, snorting beast of a vehicle. She would never understand why men liked big trucks. They were expensive to maintain, she’d heard, and, like expensive racehorses, broke down frequently.
Devon was smiling at Sophie through the passenger window when Nick came up behind her, put his hands on her waist and moved her aside. “Excuse me pretty lady, but Marc’s gotta carry her.”
He’d dropped his hands immediately. Marc wiggled his eyebrows and opened the passenger door. He carefully extracted Sophie, who looked a pale shade of green. Holding her under the knees and around the waist, he carried her to the back.
“Nick, I’m gonna need you to unlock the door, please, so don’t get in any water fights yet,” he yelled over his shoulder.
Sophie had laid her head against Marc’s chest in an uncharacteristic move. Devon’s eyes immediately began to water.
“Oh God, Nick. I’m going to lose her.”
He wrapped an arm around her and gave her a safe squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”
Devon had known this day was coming, but it was happening so fast. She thought she’d have time to prepare, to get used to the idea that Sophie was leaving this world forever. What had she been thinking? She was filled with regret for all the times she hadn’t called her friend right back, for the lunches she’d cancelled because of clients. She wished she’d helped her paint and run the shop, and weed or just do anything to help out. And now it was all too little too late.
Nick returned, his white T-shirt glowing in the late afternoon sun. “We’ve got someone from hospice coming over tonight for the initial interview. They send a caseworker first. I wish they’d just send a nurse.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Devon said.
“Unfortunately, Devon, I do. It’s what I’ve done a lot of. Except this time it will be my sister.” He abruptly turned his back to her. The pain between them was becoming unbearable but there was also something good about being there, feeling it as she stood beside him and looked out at the golden peaks of the surrounding hills and the big cloudless sky above. She understood she was standing in the doorway of the end of things. And the beginning of something else.
A new adventure. But this time, without Sophie.
Marc stayed with Sophie and Devon changed into her grubbies and went out to the nursery to join Nick. He had a clipboard and was making notes.
“Making a list. The guys are coming tomorrow and to help get everything ready for a big sale this weekend.”
“Guys?”
“From my Team.”
“Oh. How many?”
“Six I think. Maybe more later.”
“They’ll just come up here like that?” she asked.
“Sure. It’s what we do. We’re family. We take care of our own. Someone leaves us, we take care of their family. Any one of us needs someone, someone is provided. We work as a team both on and off the battlefield.”
“The Navy train all that into you.”
Nick lowered the clipboard and stared off in the distance. “I don’t think so. I think we were always this way, just found out after we became teammates. We have this bond, this brotherhood. We never leave each other behind. We never forget. We never stop grieving, and we never stop rejoicing for the things we do have.”
“So no one’s alone.”
“That’s right. No one gets left behind.”
Nick was serious and focused on the task at hand. Devon wondered if he was annoyed with her. She followed him around, asking about what they would do with this or that. He had answers for some of her questions, but mostly he said he didn’t know and he’d think of something. He kept writing, as if the writing were a mission all unto itself.
She began to feel like a fifth wheel. She missed the close intimate lunch they’d had, the way he’d looked at her and whispered his questions, the way he was careful around her. Now she was feeling ignored.
She tried to engage him one more time. “So do you want me to start picking through the flats and throwing out the dead stuff, Nick?”
He dropped his clipboard again and sighed. “Devon, you’re gonna have to leave me alone for awhile. I’m trying to figure it all out, and I can’t think straight with you standing there so close to me.”
He didn’t look at her. He swore and walked away, shaking his head.
Dinner was awkward. Devon could see Marc had been greatly affected by Sophie’s condition. “Can’t wait for Coop to get up here and take a look at her. I think she’s going to need more pain meds,” he said.
The social worker arrived in the evening for a brief visit with them. Sophie dozed in and out of consciousness during the discussion. Marc finally went over to the couch and picked her up and held her on his lap. The social worker explained the hospice procedure.
“We want to keep her calm. No big drama. Keep things little, simple, small. Less is better.”
Devon saw the two men look at each other. There was about to be an explosion of activity and a whole lot of big guys hanging around. Things would be far from quiet or small.
“She needs to eat, but of course she doesn’t want to.”
That got to Sophie and she sat up. “You talk as if I’m already dead. I’m right here. My name is Sophie and I can hear everything you’re saying about me.”
The heavy-set social worker appeared rattled, but gave a syrupy smile and continued. “Well now, Sophie, I’m glad to see your spunk. You have some awfully nice friends here.”
They made arrangements for two nurses to start working the late night shift on alternating days so Devon, Nick and Marc could get some proper rest, starting right away.
Marc put Sophie to bed after the lady from hospice left.
“I’m sorry I was short with you today, Nick said. I’m expected to have a full plan lined out when the guys get here tomorrow. “
“I understand,” she whispered. “Thought maybe I’d said something wrong.”
“You could never do anything wrong,” he answered.