Page 14 of Worth the Ruin
“I will buy out every God damn box of fruit snacks they have. And Oreos too. Our girl will have everything she could want, alright?”
I gripped his wrists and mirrored his steady breathing before mine could get out of control again. Eventually I was settled enough to give him a small smile and a nod.
“Thank you,” I whispered. As always, Jonah grounded me and gave me the strength to keep moving forward. “After Bulk-N-Go, swing by Outdoorsman and grab extra camping and hunting gear. Ammo too.”
He nodded, pulled me into a hard hug and kissed the top of my head before heading out, a determined set to his shoulders. Jonah had worked in the capital for years as a campaign manager before getting tired of the hustle and bustle—and lying politicians, really—and started his own landscape architecture business. He knew how to handle pressure and keep his cool no matter how hot the situation got and I was never more grateful for it than I was in that moment…and I knew I would need it in the days, weeks, years to come.
I started packing things up, letting Gabby sleep as long as she could. When she finally woke, I told her we were taking a surprise trip to “her” house as she always called the cabin on the lake. She loved it more than anywhere else on the planet and had claimed it as her own pretty much as soon as she could talk.
“For really?” she asked, eyes lighting up. My heart cracked a little, remembering how upset she’d been when I told her thatwe wouldn’t be able to go up there for a while because the doctors said—I stopped the thought in its tracks.
“For really really,” I said, plastering a smile on my face and hiding everything else. I vowed right then that I would shield Gabby from all of it for as long as I could. “But you gotta pack! As much as you can, hurry hurry! I’ll time you!”
She screeched in pure joy and I winced, laughing despite everything else going on. The kid had pipes, that was for sure. She ran around like a tiny tornado, racing the imaginary clock I had ticking down, and packed up her unicorn suitcase and her mermaid duffle bag. I watched with a smile on my face as she debated between three different princess dresses and eventually decided on taking them all. I would pack anything essential that she overlooked later, but for now, I didn’t dare make her leave anything behind that she wanted to bring. Of course Gabby didn’t know it, but we would never be coming back to this house, at least not for a long, long time. I could barely swallow from the sudden lump in my throat.
We were leaving this house, probably forever. The house where Gabby had taken her first steps, where we’d said goodbye to Mitch for the last time, where Jonah and I had held each other together when we’d each lost the loves of our lives at the same time. There were painful memories here, but also so many beautiful ones. I ran a finger along the marks on the doorframe where we kept track of Gabby’s height, but forced away the tears when Gabby asked how many coloring books she should bring.
Gabby eventually tired herself out again and I watched her sleep for a long time, Leo clutched in her little hands, despite how much still needed to be done. I didn’t know what was coming, but I hated that my daughter was going to be stuck in the middle of it. I felt helpless…and like a failure. Parents were supposed to protect their children, and I hadn’t been able to dothat for Gabby. The hits had just kept coming and I couldn’t fend them away no matter how badly I wanted to. I wiped tears from my eyes, kissed Gabby’s head, and got to work.
The next morning,the tailer was loaded down with everything you could think of: food, water, blankets, clothes, extra cans of gasoline, medicine, camping gear…and an entire arsenal of guns and ammo. After my conversation with Whitt, I had a bad feeling that the world was headed into a dark, dangerous place, and I wasn’t taking any chances.
I glanced across the street to Mrs. Huggins’ house. She was a widow and surrogate grandmother to all three of us, and had been there through some of our worst days. I worried at my lip with my teeth and Jonah, as always, seemed to read my mind.
“Go on. One more won’t hurt.”
I gave him a smile and squeezed his arm in thanks and love and a thousand other emotions. I jogged over and knocked on the door, trying not to bang urgently like I desperately wanted to. I could hear Mrs. Huggins moving around inside, slowly making her way to the door. She was eighty-eight and on hospice for end-stage pancreatic cancer, but she could still maneuver around fairly well. She was a tough old bird, as she liked to call herself. She’d refused an in-home nurse, but didn’t fight when Jonah and I took turns coming over to help her out every day after work.
The old woman finally opened the door and gave me a warm smile.
“Melody, good morning, sweetheart! How are you?”
“I’m alright,” I said with the closest thing to an easy smile I could muster up. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Mrs. Huggins glanced over my shoulder, eyeing Jonah’s truck and trailer as he put in the last of the supplies and bags. She arched a brow at me.
“Going on a little vacation?"
“We’re headed out to the lake house, but that’s what I need to talk to you about.”
“Well, alright then, come on in, honey.”
We settled into her small living room and I laid out what was happening as best as I could for the old woman. To her credit, she didn’t laugh in my face. Her brows drew down as she listened, gripping the handle of her cane tightly.
“So, will you come with us? Please, Mrs. Huggins, it won’t be safe here, but I promise you we will be out at the lake.”
She smiled at me and stood, holding up a finger, telling me to hold on a minute. I waited patiently—semi-patiently anyway—as she clamored around in her bedroom for a few minutes. I assumed she was packing up things and called out offering help, but she ignored me. She eventually returned, holding an old hat box. I eyed it, half in confusion, half in amusement. I supposed if anyone were going to ride into the apocalypse in proper Sunday style, it was going to be Mary Huggins.
“I think we need more than just a hat. I can help you pack up, it’s no troub—” Mrs. Huggins cut me off firmly, but gently.
“I’m not coming with you, honey.”
My heart clenched but she patted my hand softly, smiling as she settled down into the chair again and handed me the box. She nodded towards it and with a furrowed brow, I opened it. My heart sank into my feet and my stomach felt like a bundle of snakes, coiling and writhing around each other. Inside were vials and vials of morphine and bottles of every prescription pain killer the woman had.
“Mrs. Huggins?” I whispered around the lump in my throat. I knew what this meant. I knew what she would say. She gave me a sad smile.
“She’s going to need it more than me, sweetie. I’ve only kept enough to help me take a very nice, long-awaited nap when the time comes.” I tried to speak but couldn’t. If I’d tried, I would have just broken down into sobs that might not have ever stopped. “I’ve got Harold waitin’ on me anyway. He’s probably disgruntled I’ve made him wait this long already,” she added with a wry smile and I huffed out a small laugh through my welling tears.
“And I don’t think I’m up to fightin’ off whatever it is that’s coming down the road. I’ve lived a good, long life, and I’d rather end it on my own terms.” A tear escaped and slid down my cheek, and Mrs. Huggins smiled, cupping my face gently. “You get somewhere safe and…do the best you can. Cherish the time you have.”
