You Only Die Twice - By Christopher Smith Page 0,60

after what he had done to her and especially to Cheryl, would forever make this place reek with the memory of him.

Outside, she heard the sound of a van pulling up alongside the curb in front of the front door. She had the downstairs apartment, so at least the move would be easier given the amount of snow that was falling. Before the movers got out of the truck, she went into the kitchen for her cell and called.

Cheryl Dunning answered on the second ring. “Are they there?”

“Just got here.”

“You ready for this?”

“Are you joking? Let’s get the hell out of here,” Patty said. “Let’s get to Portland, move into our new apartment, go out to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate, and start over. I’m excited. You?”

“You have no idea,” Cheryl said. “Wish I could help, but my leg is still crap. Give Blanche a kiss for me. Tell her I miss her terribly. I’ll see you and the movers in a few.”

* * *

In her apartment at the back end of the Colemans’ house, Cheryl Dunning leaned on her walking stick as she and Barbara Coleman surveyed the apartment, with its piles of packed boxes taking up most of the kitchen and much of the living room. It seemed remote and chilly to Cheryl, who had lived here for years and who had come to love it as much as she loved the Colemans.

The absence of Blanche, cared for by Patty since the two operations on Cheryl’s leg, only amplified the chill.

“A few days ago, I had a cleaning service come and give me an estimate on cleaning the apartment for me,” Cheryl said. “I can’t do it myself. I apologize for that. But since I knew you’d never allow it, I paid them before they left. They’ll be here at noon today. I graduated with the woman who owns the company. We were friends once. She’ll do a great job for you and James―I’m sure of it.”

“You know we planned to take care of that, Cheryl. You need the extra money. It’s not an issue for us.”

Cheryl smiled at the older woman with the motherly face. She had joined her father and her grandfather in caring for her over the past four months. She put her free hand on Barbara’s shoulder, and the two hugged. “I’ll miss you so much,” Cheryl said. “You’ve been so good to me. Many haven’t.”

“Oh, don’t make me cry. You know I’m a soft touch.”

They parted and Barbara held a hand to Cheryl’s cheek, which she leaned into. Their eyes were bright, likely because this really was the end of a difficult four months, which began when she died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, only to be brought back to life by the doctors there.

There was a knock at the door. Cheryl raised her eyebrows at Barbara and went to answer it. It was her father and grandfather, here for their farewells. Both were tall, strapping men. Her father was fifty-four, brown hair, rugged face, eyes the color of the sky on a foggy day. Her grandfather almost was his mirror image, with a few differences that came from age―his hair was white and he didn’t stand quite as straight as he used to these days. But he was strong as hell―she knew that.

“You sure you want to do this?” her grandfather asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Because you don’t need to,” her father said.

“Actually, I do. It will be a relief to put this behind me and start fresh somewhere else. And I’ll only be two hours south. Don’t forget that. I could have moved to Boston. Patty and I considered it for a moment.” She nudged his arm. “You know, if you still got it in you, we could play ball between Bangor and Portland.”

But her father wasn’t in a light mood. He looked grim and troubled, but nodded at Barbara Coleman nevertheless. “Then I guess we owe Mrs. Coleman our thanks for helping to get Patty a job in Maine.”

“All I did was offer enthusiastic support,” Barbara said.

The men thanked her.

“Where are you off to?” Cheryl said. “You’re all padded up. Ice fishing?”

“That time of year,” her father said. “But we wanted to come by first and give you a little something.”

“A hug and a kiss?”

“Something else, but those will come. So long as you ask nicely.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“I found something in the garage,” he said. “Couldn’t believe it when I saw it. I wanted to keep it