Becoming Forever (Waking Forever Series) Read online

  Ash looked toward where Katy had gestured and saw James Haines coming around the corner. James’ face was red and his eyes swollen. His usually broad shoulders sagged and his head hung. Without a word, Ash knew her mother was dead.

  Jason and Katy stood in unison, and walked toward James. Ash hesitated. She wanted a few more seconds of hope. Hope that her mother wasn’t dead. Hope that her father wasn’t alone. She watched from what seemed like a hundred feet away, as Jason put his arm around their father’s shoulders and Katy took James’ hand in hers. Ash forced her feet to move through what felt like quicksand, and clutched her father’s other hand.

  “What’s happened?” Ash whispered.

  James looked up for the first time, his grey eyes filling with tears. “She’s - she’s gone.”

  Katy cried out first, and then Jason gasped. Ash felt a wave of heat surge through her body. The room began to get very hot, and seemed to close in on her. She grabbed her brother’s shoulder to stop the spinning sensation.

  “How?” Jason managed through tears.

  James shook his head and stared off in the distance. “I had just left for a few minutes, and she was on the floor - I can’t.” James’ chest heaved as he took a deep breath. “She was dead when the ambulance arrived. They have to do an autopsy.” He covered his face with his hands as the sobs ensued.

  Ash realized she was crying too, and wiped at her face. “Autopsy? Why?”

  James sighed. “They said it’s standard when the death is unaccompanied.” James bit at his lower lip. “I - I had just gone to Starbucks to get her morning coffee.” James looked toward the chairs his daughter, son and daughter-in-law had just vacated. “I need to sit.”

  Ash and Katy sat on either side of her father. Jason knelt in front of him, resting a reassuring hand on his father’s knee. Jason cleared his throat and looked at Ash. “Has someone called Michael?”

  Katy responded. “I called him when I was driving over.”

  As if on cue, Michael rounded the corner. “Dad. What’s happened?” He stood behind Jason, and looked anxiously between his father and Ash. James could only shake his head.

  Ash stood and hugged her younger brother, whose hazel eyes had already begun to fill with tears. “Mom’s dead.”

  Michael leaned away from Ash, his hands on her shoulders. “What? I can’t believe that.”

  Jason stood and turned to face Michael. “I know. She’s so healthy and -” Jason’s voice broke and he pulled Michael to him, both men now crying.

  Ash sat back down and putting her arm around her father’s shoulders, pulled him to her. “I love you. We’ll get through this, Dad.”

  James looked up at his only daughter, and without saying a word, pulled her to him. “I can’t believe I’ve lost her.”

  Ash wrapped her arms around her father. His broad shoulders shook as he cried, his tears soaking through Ash’s thin t-shirt. She had no words, and thought she must be in a type of shock. She had spoken with her mother a few days ago about organizing a bar-b-que at her parents’ house over the weekend. Her mother had been her usual enthusiastic and energetic self.

  Elizabeth Haines had raised three children, and had deftly managed the emotional ups and downs of being married to a firefighter. Ash had always hoped for a relationship like her parents’. They were completely devoted to one another, but still entirely their own people. Her mother was active in her church and growing up, had always been involved in her children’s school activities and sports. Ash couldn’t remember a soccer game or track meet her mother wasn’t at. Always cheering her on. Congratulating her for a victory, or consoling her in defeat.

  James and Elizabeth Haines had raised their children to be independent and entirely their own people. So, when Ash was twenty and sat both her parents down to tell them she was a lesbian, she was completely confident their reaction would be positive and supportive.

  “We’ve suspected for a while, sweetie.” Elizabeth had sat a cup of black tea down in front of her daughter, and smiled reassuringly at Ash.

  “How long is awhile?” Ash stirred a teaspoon of sugar into her tea.

  James and Elizabeth looked at each other, and then James spoke. “We figured you were gay when you and your friend Carla became so close.”

  Ash and Carla had been close, but they had never acknowledged feelings beyond friendship for one another. When Carla got pregnant during their senior year, the two girls had drifted apart. Carla was overwhelmed by the enormous responsibilities she was taking on, and Ash let her go because - if she was honest with herself - the reality of Carla having sex with a man had left Ash feeling rejected.

  Ash took a sip of her tea. “Ironically, Carla and I never -” Ash looked hesitantly at her parents. “We were just friends.”

  Elizabeth sat down at the small breakfast table adjacent to their galley style kitchen. “Oh, well, we assumed.”

  Ash chuckled. “You assumed, but never asked?”

  Elizabeth shook her head and looked at her husband. “That was for you to share in your own time. We have a strict policy to never interfere in our children’s romantic endeavors.”

  Ash nearly choked on her tea. “What? You and dad were awful to Michael’s girlfriend Tanya a few years ago.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Well, dear, she was a bitch.”

  Ash laughed. “Mother!”

  Elizabeth grinned. “What? What did I say?” She looked at her husband who sat across the table shaking his head. “Well, she was.”

  Ash got up and walked around the table. She knelt between her parents, and rested her arms on the back of their chairs. “I love you both. You’re wonderful, and I’m lucky.”

  James turned to face Ash, and put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “We’re the lucky ones.”

  The three stood, and hugged. Ash remembered thinking how differently that exchange could have gone had her parents not been so encouraging. She knew people who had lost their families when they came out, and she never took for granted the acceptance she found with her own.

  Sitting now in the emergency room, Ash’s arms were wrapped around her father because of a very different, far more dire circumstance. Leaning back so she could see his face, Ash managed to speak through her own tears. “I promise, we’ll get through this.” She was only vaguely aware of Katy handing her and James a tissue.

  “Mr. Haines?” A tall, portly man in his late fifties, dressed in a lab coat stood just outside the semi-circle the family had formed around James and Ash. “I’m Dr. Freeman. We talked briefly when they brought Elizabeth in.”

  James looked up, and wiped at his eyes with the tissue. “Yes.” Standing, James took Ash’s hand and put his arm around Michael. “These are our children. Ash, Michael, Jason and his wife Katy.”

  Dr. Freeman nodded and smiled. “I am very sorry for your loss. I know the suddenness of it only adds to your grief.”

  Ash wiped at her nose with a tissue, and squeezed her father’s hand. “What happened?”

  “We think, given your mother’s condition when she was brought in, that she had an aneurysm.” The doctor hesitated. “She more than likely died instantly.”

  A sob caught in the back of Ash’s throat, and she leaned into her father. Jason put his arm around her as he continued to hold Katy at his side. He cleared his throat. “So she wasn’t in pain?”

  The doctor shook his head. “More than likely, no.” Looking at James, the doctor continued. “State law dictates an autopsy be performed, since she was in the home alone at the time of death. That should take about three days, and then she can be released for services.”

  Ash had dealt with enough ER doctors in her work to know Dr. Freeman was one of the better ones. The fact he wasn’t referring to her mother as ‘the body’ put him well above some of his counterparts.

  A few years ago, when Ash was still a patrol officer, her partner at the time had to pull her off of an ER doctor. The man had taken the opportunity to inform a distraught
mother that her daughter might have survived the hit and run had she been wearing a bicycle helmet. The inference that the dead child had paid proportionally for her failure to adhere to bicycle safety rules had been too much for Ash. Luckily the doctor didn’t press charges.

  Ash looked over at her father, and then her brothers. They were nodding as Dr. Freeman continued to explain the process. Ash’s mind wandered to her last conversation with her mother. They had argued over whether to have pork or beef ribs at the bar-b-que.

  “Ma, we’re in Texas, and a pork rib is an appetizer here.” Ash had insisted.

  “Ashley, you of all people should know size doesn’t matter. Besides, I prefer the taste of pork ribs.” Elizabeth had countered.

  “First - eww to the size reference, and second why not do both?” Ash suggested.

  There had been a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Well, all right then.”

  Ash nodded. “Good. Gotta go. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  “Ash? Ash?” Jason’s voice broke into his sister’s reminiscing.

  Ash shook her head. She realized Dr. Freeman had left, and her family was standing staring at her. “Sorry.”

  “Mom had everything taken care of, so we really just need to get the obituary out and ensure people know.” Jason was always the one to lay everything out and organize the group. As the oldest, he tended to take charge of most family gatherings. Plus his chosen profession as an architect made planning and organizing second nature to him.

  “Can you go through her email contacts? I’ll go through her phone list, and Michael will get on her Facebook account.” Glancing at his father, who had sat back down once the doctor left, Jason continued. “We can compare lists and then get the word out.” Ash and Michael nodded.

  Funerals are for the living. Ash remembered her mother’s words as she left the hospital and walked back to her Jeep. Elizabeth had made the comment in passing when they were seeing to the arrangements for her great aunt. That was nearly ten years ago, and the chaos of that funeral had been what triggered both Elizabeth and James to pre-pay for their services and burials. In addition, the couple had taken the time to create a list of do’s and don’ts for their services.

  “I don’t understand this open mic trend that seems to be going around, but Ashley, under no circumstances are you to let anyone - especially your Aunt Jean - get up and speak off the cuff.”

  Ash chuckled at the memory as she sat in her apartment’s parking garage. She didn’t remember how she had arrived home, but sitting in the silence of her car, she laid her head back against the leather headrest.

  A shudder began deep in Ash’s chest, and rumbled out to the edges of her body as the only plausible and right choice unfolded from her. Clutching the steering wheel, she sobbed until she was numb from it.

  ***

  Ash walked through the metal detector at the main entrance of the Bexar County Medical Examiner’s Office. She intended to stay away while her mother’s autopsy was being performed, but she couldn’t resist.

  Entering the non-descript two story beige building, Ash showed the African American security guard her badge and photo ID. “How are you doing this morning, Albert?”

  Albert had worked at the examiner’s site for nearly fifteen years, and Ash had gotten to know him since she was promoted to detective a year ago. “I’m on this side of those glass doors; so pretty good.” Henry nodded toward the automated sliding doors marking the entrance to the Medical Examiner’s wing of the building.

  Ash felt a lump form in her throat. “That’s the best any of us can hope for, Albert.” She managed a smile as she walked through the security checkpoint and the automated doors.

  Angela Hernandez, a heavy set Hispanic woman in her mid-fifties, rose from behind a gray metal desk and rushed toward Ash. “Ash, I’m so sorry to hear about your mama.” Angela wrapped her full arms around Ash and gently rocked back and forth. “When I saw the exam list, I prayed it wasn’t true.”

  Ash took a step back, and reached for Angela’s hand. She wanted to hold her emotions in check since this was an extension of her workplace, and Angela’s genuine outpouring of concern was tugging at the walls Ash had been working to maintain. “Thank you, Angela.”

  Angela nodded, and looked sympathetically at Ash for several seconds. “Dr. Atman is the Deputy M.E. assigned to your mama.”

  Ash shook her head. “I don’t know her.”

  Angela stepped back around the desk, and thumbed through a stack of papers. “She’s only been with us for a few months. She’s friendly enough, but -” Angela bit her lower lip nervously.

  “But what, Angela?” Ash sat on the corner of the desk.

  Angela looked down the hall to ensure no one else was within earshot. “She’s a little hard to follow sometimes. Very proper and polite.”

  Ash chuckled. “Good manners aren’t a crime, Angela.”

  Angela nodded. “Oh, I know. I tell my grandbabies to make sure they say thank you and yes ma’am.” Angela frowned. “Also, she’s cold.”

  Ash shrugged. “Well, doctors have to maintain emotional distance, and I’m sure as a medical exa -”

  Angela shook her head. “No, no. She’s actually cold. When she started here they threw her a welcome party, and I shook her hand and -” Angela rubbed her forearms and shivered. “Her hand was ice cold.”

  Ash shook her hand. “I’m sure it’s all the hand washing she has to do in her line of work.” Ash stood, and patted Angela’s shoulder. “Be grateful. It means she’s fastidious.” Ash winked. She liked Angela, but the older woman didn’t have much to do since the county’s record keeping had been transferred to a vendor database. She was only a few years from retirement, and the county had decided to keep her on so she would get the entirety of her pension. “I’ll see you later, Angela.”

  Angela hugged Ash again. “You take care, mija. You and your family are in my prayers.”

  Ash smiled. She left Angela and walked down the hall toward the medical examiners’ office. She came to a closed door with a brass name plate that read in black block lettering ‘Emma W. Atman, M.D., D.M.E., Ph.D.’. Ash muttered to herself as she looked at the name plate. “Jesus. It’s a damn alphabet after her name.” Taking a deep breath, Ash knocked on the door.

  “Come in.” A woman’s voice responded in a light falsetto tone.

  Ash opened the door. The office was relatively small, roughly the size of the average bedroom. A walnut writing desk that by Ash’s estimates was Civil War era sat in the center of the room, with a high back leather chair behind it. Along the right wall of the office were wooden floor to ceiling bookcases.

  Standing in front of the bookcases was a beautiful blonde woman in her later thirties. She was around 5’5” tall, with a lean athletic build. Her skin was pale and flawless, complimenting her angular jaw and perfectly proportional pink lips.

  Ash felt her heart rate rise as the most intense blue eyes looked at her. “Yes? Can I help you?” The doctor was wearing a set of green surgical scrubs with a white lab coat, her thick blonde hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, and she stood with a stack of books in her hand.

  Ash managed to walk the rest of the way into the office, leaving the door open behind her. “Hi. I’m Detective Ashley Haines.” The doctor smiled, revealing perfectly straight and remarkably white teeth. She put the books down on a small cherry wood end table near the only window in the room.

  Emma extended her hand as she walked toward Ash. “Oh, hello. I’m Dr. Emma Atman.” Ash took her hand and realized instantly what Angela had been saying about the coldness of the doctor’s touch. Emma released Ash’s hand and looked curiously at her. “Am I working one of your cases detective?”

  Ash shook her head. “No, well -” Ash willed the words to form and exit her mouth. “You’re working on my mother. Elizabeth Haines.”

  Emma frowned, her eyes flashing a brilliant blue as her brows furrowed. Against Ash’s will, tears filled
her eyes. All the condolences and outpouring of concern she had experienced in the past few days paled in comparison to the pure and genuine concern this complete stranger had just conveyed in a single glance.

  When Emma spoke, her tone was quiet and soothing. “Detective Haines, I am so sorry.”

  Ash wiped at the tears as they began to stream down her cheek. “Thank you. I shouldn’t have come, but -” Emma pulled several tissues from a box on the corner of her desk and handed them to Ash. “Thank you.”

  Emma placed her hand lightly on Ash’s shoulder and guided her to the lone chair in front of her desk. “Please sit down. Can I get you a glass of water?”

  Ash shook her head as she wiped her nose with the tissue. She hated that she was doing this in front of a co-worker, even one she’d just met. “No, thank you. Just give me a minute.”

  Emma nodded. “I need to go pull a file. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Ash looked up as the doctor left the office, shutting the door behind her. Relief washed over Ash now that she was alone, and not feeling so exposed and vulnerable. Angela was right again. Emma Atman was very polite, and had done her a great service, allowing her time alone to recover and save what dignity she had left.

  As the crying slowly receded, Ash began to look around the office. It was remarkably tidy in spite of its relatively small size, and given the amount of books and papers dispersed throughout the space. The walls were adorned with certificates, including Dr. Atman’s medical diploma from Vanderbilt University and her Certificate of Residency from the University of Missouri in Columbia for Pathology. Ash’s eyes scanned the remainder of the wall and found Emma’s Doctorate in English Literature from Princeton University.

  Nothing like being an underachiever. Standing up, Ash was drawn to a painting on the wall behind the doctor’s desk.

  A woman wearing a long light blue dress, with her hair blonde pulled up in a bun indicative of the antebellum period, was kneeling next to a young Union soldier. The man was prone on a thin hay stuffed mattress. As Ash looked closer, she realized the man was in fact only a boy of maybe thirteen. The woman was tending to his right arm, which had been amputated and was swollen with an angry looking incision. The look of concern on the woman’s face was reminiscent of the look Dr. Atman had just given her.