“I know.” That part she didn’t mind. The guest room was actually one of the nicer rooms of the house, with an en suite bathroom and wide windows overlooking the mountains. She had created such a comfortable little spot there that even after the divorce, Jeff’s parents still preferred staying with her whenever they came to visit from their house in Arizona, much to Holly’s chagrin.
“We like to be closer to the children,” JoAnn had tried to explain to Holly during their last visit, but Claire suspected even after their new grandchild was born, the Bradfords would prefer this place, with its sunny garden and basketball hoop in the driveway to the glass and cedar showplace Jeff and Holly had built up in Snowcrest Estates.
“I brought down all your pillows and your favorite quilt,” Macy said. “The Western Star that your Grandma Van Duran made when you were a little girl. Holly helped me put fresh sheets on the bed for you.”
“Thank you. Both of you.” Claire managed a smile.
“You need to rest now,” Holly said sternly. “Jeff and I will stay here with the children until the funeral is over and your mother can get away and come here.”
“Can I drive you in?” Owen asked.
She smiled at her eager-to-please eight-year-old. “Of course.”
With care and concentration, he maneuvered the chair through the doors, which were just wide enough for it to fit. She was definitely going to have to come up with another solution than this wheelchair or all the lovely historic woodwork of the door frames she had worked so hard to refinish would be dinged and scraped.
As soon as she reached the bed and started the complicated process of transferring from the chair, she realized with not inconsiderable dismay that she would have to change into a nightgown from the skirt and cotton shirt her mother had brought to the hospital for her trip home.
The enormity of the task, given the cast on her arm, completely overwhelmed her. “Can you send Macy back to help me change?” she asked Owen.
“Don’t be silly,” Holly exclaimed from the doorway, where she and Jeff had apparently followed them. “I’ll help you.”
She absolutely did not want her ex-husband’s young, adorably pregnant wife helping her, but she didn’t exactly have a lot of options here. “Thank you,” she murmured.
When Jeff made no move to leave, Claire raised her eyebrows. It was an awkward situation all the way around. Although they had been married for ten years and had once been as intimate as two people could be with each other, that was in the past and she wasn’t changing clothes in front of him.
Jeff finally clued in and cleared his throat. “Come on, Owen. Let’s go see what we can find for lunch. You hungry?”
They left, closing the door behind them, leaving her and Holly alone.
While Claire did her best with the buttons on her shirt, Holly immediately went to the mirror-topped antique dresser and pulled out one of Claire’s nightgowns she and Macy must have brought down.
“I have to admit, it’s weird for me to see you this way,” Holly said.
“What do you mean?”
Holly gestured to the wheelchair and the hospital bed Jeff must have arranged to replace the queen normally in the room. Claire didn’t think that was strictly necessary, although she supposed it would help with transfers from the bed to the wheelchair. “I don’t know. Needy, I guess. You’re the most together person I know. It’s just...different to see you otherwise.”
“It’s not so comfortable for me, either,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said quietly. “Really sorry. It must be hard for you.”
“Yes,” she admitted with reluctance.
“Well, don’t worry about it. I’m glad to help. Let’s get you more comfortable.”
Few moments in Claire’s life were as excruciatingly humiliating as being forced to sit, helpless and weak, as her ex-husband’s young and beautiful new wife helped her into the loose cotton nightgown.
Holly was actually very considerate and kind about the whole thing, to her relief, but by the time they finished Claire was exhausted and humiliated and could only think about another pain pill. Unfortunately, she wasn’t due to take a dose for a few hours yet. She was vigilant about keeping to the correct schedule, afraid of becoming dependent. She didn’t know if it was a genetic predisposition, but her mother’s dark history was entirely too vivid in her memory.
“There you are, Claire,” Holly said when she was finally settled into the bed, the soft quilt tucked to her chin. “Does that feel better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“It’s no trouble.” She smiled. “If you want the truth, it’s kind of nice to have you lean on me for a change instead of always the other way around. You just rest now. Come on, Chester. Let’s go.”
Claire hadn’t realized the dog was there, as well. She opened one eye and spotted his pudgy grumpiness circling around the rug beside the bed, preparing to settle in.
“No, leave him.”
Holly frowned. “Are you sure? He can be such a bother.”
“I’m sure.”
Holly looked skeptical but she shrugged. “Do you need anything else? Water? A book or something?”