Susannah's Garden by Debbie Macomber Page B

Doug was five rows up. Presumably all the grave sites close by had been sold. That must have frustrated her father.
    To Susannah’s astonishment, lovely pink roses and purple lilacs were arranged in a vase by the headstone. She knew her mother had routinely visited the grave that first year, her grief nearly overwhelming. But to the best of her knowledge, Vivian hadn’t been to the cemetery recently and if she had, she would’ve left flowers at her husband’s grave, too.
    Susannah crouched down and fingered the delicate petals. The roses, still buds, hadn’t been cut more than a few hours ago. She stood and glanced around, wondering if whoever brought them was nearby. As far as Susannah could see, she was alone.
    Despite everything she’d told her father, Susannah had little to say to her brother. She smiled down at his grave, blew him a kiss and returned to the car, determined to leave and not come back for a long, long time.
    From the cemetery Susannah drove to Safeway, where she picked up packing boxes. Then, feeling she owed her mother a visit, she decided not to postpone it, after all, and drove to Altamira. Her mother sat in her tiny apartment, waiting for her. The minute Susannah walked in, Vivian stretched out her arms, her eyes pleading.
    “What took you so long?” she asked in a faltering voice. “I was afraid you weren’t going to come.”
    “I wouldn’t do that,” Susannah assured her. Taking the fragile, bony hand in her own, Susannah knelt so that the two of them were at eye level. “How did you sleep last night?”
    “I didn’t. Not a wink.”
    “Too much noise?”
    “No…yes. I don’t know and the food here is terrible. You don’t expect me to eat cold eggs and dry toast the rest of my life, do you?”
    “Mom, give it a chance.”
    “I hate it already. I know your father thinks I should be here, but I’m telling you right now, Susannah, I want out.”
    “Two weeks,” Susannah reminded her. “You promised me you’d give it your best shot for two weeks.”
    Reluctantly her mother nodded. “Yes, I know, but I can tell you this isn’t going to work.”
    Susannah prayed with all her might that her mother would change her mind and soon. Because there were no other options.
    “Where are my clothes?”
    “Mom, we already brought your clothes, don’t you remember?”
    “What about my purple dress? I need that dress, Jean. You didn’t give it away, did you?”
    “No, Mom.”
    “Jean, oh, Jean, what am I going to do?”
    Susannah had to bite her tongue to keep from correcting her mother. “I brought everything you asked for.”
    “I’d be more comfortable if we brought over your father’s chair, too,” she said next.
    Susannah had been afraid of this. “Mom, there isn’t room for Dad’s chair in here.”
    Her mother gave a quick shake of her head. “There’s plenty of room. I’ll just move a few things around and we can set up my sewing machine in the corner.”
    Her mother hadn’t sewed in years. Decades, even. But all Susannah said was, “I’ll see what I can do.”
    “And bring me my books, too.”
    “I will, Mom.” Apparently she was being sent off to do errands. “Did you meet any of the other tenants this morning?”
    Vivian lowered her voice. “This place is full of old people. I’m telling you, Susannah, I don’t belong here. I swear everyone’s at least eighty.”
    Rather than try to persuade her mother to give the facility a chance, Susannah left to do the errands Vivian had decreed. She was adamant that Susannah find her purple dress, but Susannah couldn’t remember seeing one in her mother’s closet.
    Emotionally drained, she went back to the house. She unlocked the front door and propped open the screen as she dragged in the boxes.
    Halfway into the living room, she paused and looked around. Everything looked exactly as she’d left it, but something didn’t feel right. Except she didn’t know exactly what. Standing in the middle of the living