and going so much the last two days, they could be excused for thinking the place was unoccupied.
It was curiosity, and nothing more, but it tempered the high she'd been riding—an omen of what would evolve here with the coming abandonment of their home.
After putting her load of laundry in the dryer, she carried all but one of the suitcases to the front door.
The only thing hanging in her closet was her new dress and shoes to wear to the funeral. She would wear a new pair of shorts and a t-shirt for traveling. Beyond that, she had no other plans than to get out of Sweetwater. Wherever she lived, from this day forward, there would be green and trees and water in abundance. She would be cool in the summer, warm in the winter, and do as she wished, when she wished.
She'd been thinking to go northeast, toward Missouri. It had mountains, and forests, and rain—lots of rain. Maybe to Branson. There should be jobs galore in a place that thrived on tourism. She nodded. That was her new plan.
Daphne arrived at her motel in Sweetwater a little after 2:00. She would have arrived sooner, but she’d had to stop and throw up halfway there, and then pulled into the next truck stop afterward to get Seven-Up to calm her stomach.
Nerves.
She'd been this way her whole life.
If she had a crying fit when she was a child, she threw up afterward.
If she was anxious, or upset, she threw up.
And here she was again, not even the day of the funeral, and already losing her fucking mind. Lord, Lord, Lord, what sins she had wrought, her belly was paying for.
When she parked and got out, the heat enveloped her. She'd forgotten this—the feeling of being smothered—and made a beeline inside with her bag in hand.
As luck would have it, the clerk checking her in at the front desk was someone she'd grown up with. She braced herself for the recognition.
"Daphne Dunham. I have a reservation," she said, and slid her credit card across the counter.
"Well hello, Daphne. It's me, Andy Walker. I haven't seen you in years. My sympathies to you. We all heard about your mama's passing."
"Thank you," Daphne said. "I don't suppose James or Mamie are here yet?"
"I'll look," Andy said, and typed their names into the computer. "They both have reservations, but they haven't checked in."
Daphne nodded. "I'll see them later, then. I just want to get to my room."
"Yes, of course," he said, then ran her card and gave it back. "You'll be in room 420. Here's your room key. Our breakfast buffet hours are on your paperwork. Good to see you again. Enjoy your stay."
Daphne took the key and headed for the elevator. As soon as she reached her room, she dumped her bag, then went back down to her car and drove straight to the Sonic for a cold drink. She was afraid to eat for fear she'd throw up again. But she needed to settle her stomach before she went to the funeral home. There were things she needed to say to Mama that she didn't want overheard.
A few minutes later, she was sitting in a stall at the drive-in, sipping a cherry limeade, and absently watching the coming and going of customers, wondering why she felt it necessary to go to the funeral home to spill her guts. Her mama already knew what she'd done.
She took another sip of the sweet-tart drink and sighed. The truth of it was she needed to see Delia Dunham's face. To know she didn't have the wild, crazy look in death that she remembered of her in life. She needed her last sight of her mama to be something she could live with.
Finally, she'd had enough of the cold drink to ease the roll in her belly and left the drive-in. She didn't remember exactly where Decker Funeral Home was, and missed the first turn, but quickly found it when she retraced her steps, then parked and went inside.
A man she didn't know approached.
"Hello? How can I help you?" he asked.
"Which viewing room is Delia Dunham in?"
He pointed.
Daphne took a deep breath and crossed the lobby, signed the guest book, picked up a memory card, then walked in, grateful there was no one else there.
The casket was surrounded in flowers. She saw the arrangement she'd ordered at the foot of the casket, slowly approached, and looked down in shock.
Her mother's hair was completely white! When had