Liz's Road Trip, page 1
Liz’s Road Trip
BERNADETTE MARIE
Contents
Acknowledgments
Also by Bernadette Marie
1. The End
2. WATTS Calling
3. The Text
4. The First Secret
5. The Morning After
6. Ownership
7. The House that Betsy Built
8. Letters
9. The Plan
10. So That’s Mark Watts?
11. Mark A. Watts
12. Photo Proof
13. It Would be a Fantastic Flower Vase
14. Hangovers
15. Genevieve Paige
16. Mapped Out
17. Great Grandpa Found
18. On the Road
19. So, This is Kansas
20. Dear Genevieve
21. The Detour
22. The Arch
23. The Cemetery
24. Goodbye Grandpa
25. Recover and Relax
26. Music City
27. Dinner and a Date
28. A Toast to Genevieve Paige
29. The Reunion
30. The Dance
31. Elevator Rides
32. Road Tripping
33. Turkey Sandwiches
34. Learning Opportunity
35. Marquee
36. Back to Work
37. That Florida/Georgia Line
38. When it’s Over
39. Mom
40. The Final Drive
41. Home
42. A Place for Liz
43. Out of Place
44. Dip in the Pool
45. Earth-shattering
46. Remembering Betsy
47. The Calm
48. Breakfast
49. The Book
50. Back to the Letters
51. Mrs. O.Z.
52. A Life Well-Lived
53. The Foreword
54. The Story of Betsy Evans
55. The Wait
56. Constance Frost
57. The Gift
58. The Grandfather
59. It’s Time
60. Gran’s Final Wishes
61. My Final Wishes
62. May the Waves Carry You
63. Last Days
64. Goodbye Palm Beach
65. Home Quiet Home
66. Back to My Normal Life
67. Staged and Ready
68. Life Changing Decision
69. Now Boarding
Epilogue
The Rom Com Movie Club
The Rom Com Movie Club
Please Review
Meet The Author
Other Titles from 5 Prince Publishing
Copyright © 2023 by Bernadette Marie, LIZ’S ROAD TRIP
All rights reserved. Smashwords Edition
This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination, or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by 5 PRINCE PUBLISHING & BOOKS, LLC
PO Box 865, Arvada, CO 80001
www.5PrinceBooks.com
ISBN digital: 978-1-63112-312-2
ISBN print: 978-1-63112-313-9
ISBN Hardcover 978-1-63112-314-6
Cover Credit: Marianne Nowicki
05242023
For Stan,
Because of you,
I’ve been living my greatest adventure.
Acknowledgments
T,N,G,J,S and A,
I cherish that you are my adventure!
Mama and Sissy,
Oh, the adventure we’re having.
I’m glad that we’re on this adventure together.
Cate,
Who knew that we’d still be learning so much?
Thank you for digging in and being my girl!
Marianne,
Your design gave me inspiration. Thank you for sharing your talents and making me look good.
Whitney,
There is nothing better than hearing it all come to life. Your talents are amazing.
My Beloved Readers,
Thank you for coming back time and time again. I hope that you will enjoy Liz’s story, and come back for the next.
Also by Bernadette Marie
THE KELLER FAMILY SERIES
The Executive’s Decision
A Second Chance
Opposite Attraction
Center Stage
Lost and Found
Love Songs
Home Run
The Acceptance
The Merger
The Escape Clause
A Romance for Christmas
THE WALKER FAMILY SERIES
Walker Pride
Stargazing
Walker Bride
Wanderlust
Walker Revenge
Victory
Walker Spirit
Beginnings
Walker Defense
Masterpiece
At Last
THE ROM COM MOVIE CLUB
The Rom Com Movie Club - Book One
The Rom Com Movie Club - Book Two
The Rom Com Movie Club - Book Three
FUNERALS AND WEDDINGS SERIES
Something Lost
Something Discovered
Something Found
Something Forbidden
Something New
THE DEVEREAUX FAMILY SERIES
Kennedy Devereaux
Chase Devereaux
Max Devereaux
Paige Devereaux
STANDALONE TITLES
The Happily Ever After Bookstore
Liz’s Road Trip
THE MATCHMAKER SERIES
Matchmakers
Encore
Finding Hope
THE THREE MRS. MONROES TRILOGY
Amelia
Penelope
Vivian
THE ASPEN CREEK SERIES
First Kiss
Unexpected Admirer
On Thin Ice
Indomitable Spirit
THE DENVER BRIDE SERIES
Cart Before the Horse
Never Saw it Coming
Candy Kisses
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Chasing Shadows
PARANORMAL ROMANCES
The Tea Shop
The Last Goodbye
HOLIDAY FAVORITES
Corporate Christmas
Tropical Christmas
Date for Hire
Mistletoe Memories
The End
The inhale is sharp, just as the last three have been. As I hold my grandmother’s hand, fragile, pale, and cold, the inhalation doesn’t expel.
I hold my own breath as the nurse holds a stethoscope to my grandmother’s chest, listens, and then gives me a controlled nod.
Gran is gone.
The breath I’ve been holding on to comes out as a sob. My vision is clouded with the tears I’ve been holding back.
Gran died in hospice. I’ve sat by her side. This isn’t a surprise. Nevertheless, here I am, unable to breathe through the sudden grief that takes hold of my heart and squeezes. The pain is nearly intolerable.
For the first time, Gran is in a room and the mood isn’t lifted. She was the kind of woman who lit up a room when she walked in. She loved everyone she ever met, and she loved me the most.
A hand comes to my shoulder and rests there. There is no need for words. The condolence that comes from Grace’s touch gives me the calm I can’t give to myself. This is what the love of a best friend can give you—peace when you have none.
I suck in another sob. Since Gran came to live with me when I was ten, after my mother died, I’ve talked to her every day. Even on mornings when we didn’t have breakfast together, we had coffee while we talked on the phone. I’ll never have coffee with Gran again.
Grace sits down in the empty chair next to me. “Can I get you anything?” she asks softly, touching my leg as if to let me know she’s right there.
“I don’t know,” I say on another sob.
“I’m going to give you some time. I’ll go get some tea. You could use a snack too,” Grace says, and I’m grateful she’s here with me in the middle of the night.
I nod. I long ago lost what time it was. I’ve been sitting in the hospice room for days, only leaving to go home and shower—and cry. Grace has kept me fed and hydrated, and I owe her for that. Someday, I’ll be able to repay her, because this too will be her reality. It’s all of our realities. For some of us, it comes at a young age. For others—well, they’re the lucky ones who get entire lifetimes with their parents and grandparents. That isn’t my reality.
The grief squeezes my heart again.
Grace follows the nurse out of the dark room, and they disappear. The night closes in around me, and I let the tears fall freely. My hand is still clasped around Gran’s.
Am I supposed to talk to her? Am I just supposed to sit here until I’m ready to walk away? What’s the protocol?
It’s been twenty years since I sat with my mother as she died. The ten-year-old me cried, yelled, and they’d pulled me away from her—my mother.
It feels the same, deep inside, as I hold Gran’s hand. I want to scream and yell, but what good does that do? Gra
I wipe the back of my free hand over my wet cheeks. I will cherish being here with Gran at this moment of her death as much as I will the past twenty years together.
Gran was more than a caretaker. She was a confidante and a teacher. When I was young, she volunteered at the school for everything. When I went to college, she took the opportunity to travel, since I wouldn’t go anywhere unless we drove. She even wrote articles for the local papers from time to time, and she introduced me to the woman I now work for at a local magazine. I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t taken with her, and I always understood how lucky I was to have her as my grandmother.
She was always my cheerleader, excited when it was my time to shine, and when she disciplined, she tried her hardest to be a hard ass, but usually she caved.
That very thought makes me chuckle through my tears.
Looking down at the woman who was bigger than life, the tears are back. A sickness, which I’ve become very familiar with, stirs in my stomach. It’s the lack of sleep. The lack of food. Too much coffee. Stress of the unknown. All of it mixing in my stomach. It threatens to turn me inside out. At times, it does. Other times, it’s been my strength to carry on—to just get out of bed in the morning.
Now, at this moment, I don’t know what to do with it.
Gran had been sick for the better part of a year. She’d stopped traveling a few years ago, stopped going out all together a year ago, and stopped talking to her friends as her body got weaker. It was as if she’d been dying all this time.
Her mind was sharp, but her body succumbed to cancer, just as my mother had when I was little. It scares the shit out of me to think that someday this might be my fate, too.
Grace walks back into the room, a cup of tea in each hand and a roll of Ritz crackers in the pocket of her sweater.
She looks at where my hand still holds my grandmother’s, and I can see the sadness resurface in her eyes. Grace has been around Gran as long as I have. I know she feels this loss as deeply as I do.
“They say to stay until you’re ready to go. No hurry. I have tea for you and some crackers. I’ll take my tea out into the hallway,” she offers, but I shake my head.
“Don’t go. Stay here with me.” My voice is weak, and so am I.
Grace nods, sets the cups on the tray behind us, and takes the open seat again.
Needing her more than I ever have, I reach my free hand to Grace and she takes it and holds it in hers.
Sitting between these two women who have loved me through every up and down, I bounce between acceptance, graciousness, anger, love, bitterness, and the cycle continues. Grief is a weird and vicious monster, and this is just the start of it.
“There’s a lot to do now,” I say, clearing my throat.
“We’ll work on that later. Whatever you need from me, I’m here,” Grace promises, and I know that’s true. There has never been a time when Grace hasn’t been part of my life, and this is no exception.
“I’ll need your help,” I plead.
“And you know I’m here. Tonight, when you’re done here, we’ll go home and get some sleep. You can make the phone calls you need to make in the morning, and then we can go through her plans and get her funeral situated.”
I laugh weakly, shaking my head. “She doesn’t want a funeral. Not a traditional one,” I say.
Grace leans her head on my shoulder. “You’ll do right by her. You always do.”
I owe Gran everything. In the final act of getting to do something for her, I will make sure she’s honored.
Swallowing hard, I look at the frail woman in the bed. This isn’t the way I want to remember the woman who raised me since I was ten. I want to remember the vibrant woman who sang songs and made up stories. I want to remember the woman, who, no matter how old she was, turned men’s heads. I want to remember the woman who stepped into my world and gracefully eased me into going on with life without my mother.
However, the image before me is seared into place now.
“Cosmo,” I nearly shout out the name as I sit up straight in the chair.
Grace nods slowly and smiles. “I’ve been taking care of him. He’s fine. He’s got food, water, litter, and I hid some snacks around the house. I even turned on the TV.”
I ease back in the chair. Yes, Grace has always taken care of me, especially when I can’t think straight.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“I hate that cat,” I say weakly and Grace laughs loudly, and then covers her mouth.
“You do not. And I wouldn’t say that in the presence of your grandmother.”
“Oh, she knows,” I admit. “And she also knows I’ll take care of him.”
Grace grins at me. “That cat is going to be your saving grace.”
I roll my eyes, and then my shoulders. “You know what’s wrong with you? You’re always so damned optimistic.”
“Someone needs to be. Your pessimism is stifling.”
I pucker my lips so I won’t smile, then I rest my head on her shoulder and sit there for just a little longer.
We sit in the dark room, in the middle of the night, in silence, for just a bit longer. I know that when I walk out of the room, that’s it. This is the last time I’ll see my grandmother. The last time I’ll touch her. The moment is suspended in time as long as I sit here. I’m just not ready to say goodbye.
WATTS Calling
Cosmo paws my lap as I sit on the couch, surrounded by piles of tissue. I haven’t stopped crying since I got home.
I hadn’t walked through the door until nearly eight o’clock that morning.
Once I’d found the courage to leave Gran, there were forms to fill out and questions to be answered. I don’t know what I would have done if Grace hadn’t been there with her level head.
To be honest, I would probably still be sitting there with Gran. Grace gave me the courage to leave.
I brewed a pot of coffee when I got home, put on my pajamas, and sat down on the couch, where I’ve been sitting for hours. I don’t even have the TV on.
Cosmo knows something is amiss. Not only is he at my house, but Gran’s been missing from him for the past few weeks.
He’d probably like to see Grace about now, too.
Thank God she’d taken it upon herself to take care of him. My mind certainly wasn’t on his wellbeing. I suppose that’s why I’ve never considered having children. I can’t even take care of a cat.
It’s nearly two o’clock in the afternoon now, and I have no ambition to do anything else but wallow in my sorrow with the cat.
I run my hand over his golden fur and the tears come again. “You goofy cat. You’re all mine now,” I say and the cat responds with a purr, as if he’d have it no other way. “What are we going to do?”
Resting my head back against the couch, I let myself sink into the sobs that come. I know it’s only been a few hours, but I would have thought the tears would have all dried up by now.
It’s just that I’ve been taking care of Gran for a long time. She raced to my rescue when I was a child, and when I returned from college, we took care of one another. The past few years, I’ve taken care of Gran as her health began to decline.
