Too Sweet to Die T. Doyle (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖

“Jimmy was my high school sweetheart. The day before he left for training, he proposed to me.” A sad smile flickered and frowned. “I still have his ring.” She sighed. “We loved each other so much, and he was just on the home guard, I thought he’d be safe.” She closed her eyes. “Back in those days you had to ask the pharmacist for condoms, and we were both so young, we didn’t want our families to find out.”

She got pregnant. At sixteen. In 1942. “I’m so sorry. What happened when your parents realized you were pregnant?”

She nodded. “It was awful. My father was so mad. I told him Jimmy and I would get married, but he was so angry. He sent me to a home for unwed mothers in Louisville.” Tears continued to fall from her face.

My eyes prickled, stinging, and I blinked, letting the tears fall. “What about Jimmy? Were you able to tell him?”

“He was injured during a training exercise. I wrote him, but he was already in the hospital. He had an infection, and then pneumonia, and died before he ever knew. When I had our baby girl, the nuns took her from me. They wouldn’t even let me hold her…” She closed her eyes. Color had returned to her skin, her cheeks pink from crying.

“That’s awful.”

“I could never tell anyone. I’ve always wondered where she was. If she was happy. Did her parents love her and care for her and give her all the things I wanted to?” Her whispery voice creaked.

I kissed her hands. “I’m sure her parents adored her. I’m so sorry that you never got to know her and be a part of her life.”

She pulled her hands out of mine and grabbed another tissue. “I hated my father. Even my mother grieved the loss of her grandchild.” She looked at me. “I never told Jimmy’s parents, and I should have. They should’ve known. They should’ve been given the chance to keep a piece of their son.”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Almond.” I bent over her bed, holding her hands and leaning against her head. My eyes stung and I blinked the tears away. Did my mother ever tell my biological father he had a child.

The nurses’ assistant opened the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Sad movie,” I croaked out.

Mrs. Almond huffed, snuffled, grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “Thank you, Charlie.”

I nodded, grabbed the tissue and cleaned my own face. “Anytime.” I kissed her forehead and left, heading to the bathroom to fix my face.

Mrs. Almond’s father and my mom were definitely not my favorite people.

I returned to the nurses’ station.

“Hey.” A male voice stage-whispered from the down the hall. I turned, and Ray stood, half-hidden, in an intersecting hallway. His eyes did a twitchy thing, and then he gave up and waved me over.

I shook my head. “I’m working.”

He sauntered toward me, looking in every door, like a fugitive. “Your hair looks less…”

I waited. I’m sure my face indicated his next words may be his epitaph.

His mouth closed. He blinked. Honestly, my computer started up faster than him thinking of a compliment.

“Your hair looks nice.” He nodded as if assuring himself he’d said the right thing.

“Thank you.” I took a breath, calmed myself, and focused on Ray. “I learned Parker is really into computer games and LARPing.” I shook my head. “Can you picture Parker wearing a gladiator’s outfit and Jackie behind him in a toga, holding a shield?”

“No. That’s…” Ray shook his head like if he rattled his brain around enough, he’d find the right word. “What else did you learn?”

“Tyler Rigby was Hilda’s lawyer. He told Parker he could sue the insulin pump company.” The phone rang and I held up my hand. I answered. “This is Charlie.” The phone readout said it was Evie Feeney.

“Hello dear. Could you have Mr. Nelson give me a hand? I ordered a bookshelf from IKEA and it’s just arrived.”

“You betcha. I’ll have him call you directly.” I wrote her room number and phone extension down.

I messaged the head caretaker, Art Nelson, with the information and made note of the time. He’d either handle it himself or send someone else. He’d worked at Sunnyview since it opened in the 90’s, and I’m pretty sure he planned on dying here. He could’ve retired a few years ago, but thankfully decided to stay. He was the only one who knew how to keep the emergency generators running.

“I did a search of Parker’s financials and I talked to Christine Scottman.” Ray rubbed the back of his neck. “You sure you can’t take a break?”

“I’m positive. Did you come here just to talk about the financials?” I acknowledged the approaching pharmacy tech with a chin nod. I needed to finish checking on my patients’ evening meds. And where was the ward clerk who was supposed to be answering the calls?

“I’m staying for dinner with Mom and I brought you Oscar’s mail. It was overflowing his mailbox. What’s your schedule tomorrow?” Ray pulled a stack of mail from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

“I work in the morning, from six to two.” I went through Oscar’s mail. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I held up an official-looking letter from Sally Mae.

Ray gave me a pirate squint. “You could return to sender or you could sort through all the mail and drop it off at his parents’ house.” He stroked his beard. “Or you could go through it and see if there’s anything that should be handled immediately. You know, since you’re the landlord.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure I should commit a felony today.”

“Pfft. Why not? Your hair looks great for the mugshot.” His persuasive smile did nothing for me.

A call light went on for Mr. Shapiro’s room. I stuffed the mail into a desk drawer.

Ray watched the drawer close and he turned and walked down the hall. “I’ll be in Mom’s room if you decide to read through the