that comment, I push the button that raises the partition between the driver and passengers.
Queenie laughs. “Talk soon, Hemsworth.”
“Right you ar—”
“You’re mean. Hemsworth is adorable.”
“Because he is laughing at my expense?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I call bullshit.”
We pull up out the front of a red brick two-story in the quiet tree-lined street. Old Town's residential area has taken a beating since the pandemic, like a lot of Chicago. For now, it is struggling to get back on its feet as the once affluent, thriving area of Chicago pre-pandemic.
Queenie takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out when Hemsworth opens her door waiting for her to get out.
I cover my hand over hers when she goes to pick up the pink box. “Are you okay? Your mood has dimmed.”
“Yeah.” She gives me a half-smile. “Cindy is in-home palliative care. Her family is keeping her comfortable and surrounded by love, but… umm…” I watch Queenie struggle to find the words, her eyes welling up. “She’s termin—”
“I’m coming in with you.” I always was, but I was waiting for an invite first, but now I know she will need me beside her without an invitation.
I open my own damn door because I’m not a ‘git’ and hurry around to her side of the car. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I usher Queenie toward the half-dozen steps that will take us up to the dark heritage green, framed glass door.
I look over my shoulder. Hemsworth is standing with his hands clasped in front of his body, looking solemn. I can see how much he respects Queenie already, and I think he may be on his way to adoring her.
She’s quite something.
11
Queenie
It looks like nobody is home, but I knock on the door loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
I’m grateful to have Bradford standing beside me. I’ve been convincing myself all afternoon not to fear coming here. Every time I knock on Cindy’s door, there is the dread of not knowing how bad she will be when I arrive.
I met Cindy and her family when she had her hospital stays about a year ago, but I’ve been visiting once a week for the past three months at her home, bringing a gift each time, watching Cindy’s face light up, and seeing the teary smile from her mother, thankful for what I am doing.
I knock again.
It’s not easy emotionally visiting a dying person, but it’s even harder being the one who is dying. At least I can walk away not feeling sick and always tired.
My penitence for not being able to take away Cindy’s disease are the tears that wreck me, reminding me of my mother’s slow, painful death. Some of Mamma’s friends stopped coming to see her because they valued their emotional pain more.
“They might be out,” Bradford says softly beside me.
“No, somebody is always home watching over their Cinderella.” Fear spikes its way through my body.
“Are you looking for the Collins’?” An old lady’s head pops up over the next door’s fence.
“Yes. I’ve come to visit with Cindy.”
“You usually ride your bike. I’ve seen you around each week, bringing the girl gifts. Then I guess it’s okay to let you know the poor kid passed away yesterday morning in the early hours. The family is out getting some air and dinner. They are finding it hard to be in the house at the moment.”
It takes me a few seconds to latch onto the old lady’s words. My hand flies up to my mouth to stop the loud sob from escaping.
Bradford’s arm slips around my waist. “Thank you… for letting me know.” I can barely say the words through the tightening in my throat and the tears. I’m now leaning more of my weight into Bradford’s body.
“It’s a rough time for Cindy’s parents; they will contact you shortly. What’s your name, honey, and I will let them know you stopped by.”
“Queenie. Just Queenie,” I sob, trying to keep a hold of my emotions.
I pull away from Bradford’s hold and turn back to the door and kneel, placing the box behind the rocking chair on the front porch for her parents to discover when they come home for the evening.
“Honey, I’ll keep an eye on the door for you until they come home,” says the kindly neighbor.
Without turning around, I whisper, “Thank you.” They will know the gift is from me.
I knew this day was coming for Cindy, but the reality has knocked the wind out of