George leaned back against the entryway wall, taking Effie with her, letting her grief wash over them both. “Adoption is a hard choice, Effie, but obviously for you, it was the right one.”
Sniffling, she shuddered a sigh. “He had a good life. I saw it on his Facebook page, and he’s going to be a grandfather soon. The family who adopted him loved him, took good care of him. He had all the advantages I couldn’t offer, but… I just wanted one more chance to…to tell him I loved him, and if I could have, I would have kept him. Loved him…forever.”
It was then she began to softly sob. Her gulps for air said this was something she’d kept inside for a long time.
Tears stung George’s eyes as Effie’s pain swept through her. The worry. The wondering. The unknown. The unbearable fear. “We’ll help, Effie. I promise we’ll help you contact him. But you have to let us help, even if it’s just to be here for you while you do it.”
“I…” Exhaling, she leaned back, almost as if she just realized she’d relied on someone for support, and it was difficult, but George pulled her back in, ignoring her body language.
“It’s okay to need help, Effie. It’s okay to let your guard down. It’s okay to reach out. I promise it’s okay. I know you’re not used to asking for help—to needing help—but it’s okay.”
Effie crumbled once more, her limbs boneless. “Then help me. Please, please help me. I don’t want to miss this one last chance to see him—to explain. I don’t want to die without…”
George smiled even as tears fell down her face at the longing Effie had lived with for so many years, the sadness. “I will, and I’m happy to do it.”
“Do you really think you can help?” she squeaked.
“I make no guarantees, I can only promise you I’ll give it my everything.”
“But I’ve been…I’ve been so dreadful to you,” Effie said with a sniffle, shaking her head, her breathing labored.
George chuckled. “Yep. But it’s all good, Effie Sampson. To forgive is divine. To forgive you is divine times infinity.”
Effie’s shoulders shook with her laughter as she leaned back and eyed George. “So how does one…? Can you explain the angel thing?”
George snorted. If only. “Nope. This only just happened to me, and how it happened is a little on the left field side of things. I’m still trying to figure it out myself. But don’t think about me. This is about you and your son. Just know, it works—even with people who are skeptics.”
She gave George a wry smile, the first smile she’d ever graced her with, and it was pretty great. “I hope they have a special place for you up there. You deserve it after me.”
“Are you giving me a compliment, Effie Sampson?” George teased.
“I think I am,” she whispered.
Drawing her into another hug, she gave her a squeeze and said, “I’ll take it.”
As George looked to Dex over the top of Effie’s head, feeling the weight of Effie’s burden lift from her shoulders for the first time in a very long time, she felt her inner peace—peace that came from somewhere deep.
And that was good.
And it was right.
And George knew that to the very core of her soul.
Effie had really done her homework on David. She had his number and address and all she’d really needed was support—and a gentle reminder to prepare for the possibility of a poor reception from him.
They’d called Effie’s son together, and as George freshened up her makeup after a splash of cold water over her face, and tidied her hair in Effie’s bathroom, she felt a million times better on Effie’s behalf.
They’d decided the best way to contact her son and test the waters to see if he was receptive to meeting her was simply to call him. While they all agreed the circumstances and reasons behind meeting him could be off-putting, it was up to Effie to make the choice to reveal her situation to David—which she chose not to do.
She made it clear she didn’t want David to feel pressured to meet her because she was dying. Effie refused to play what she called, the sympathy card.
Still, Effie was a real champ, and David, married to his husband of twenty years, was a gentle, soft-spoken soul who turned out to be very receptive to an in-person meeting. They’d set up a place to meet each other halfway before Effie got on a plane to Cabo, and while Effie appeared nervous, and George had to keep her personal feelings to herself about the woman not sharing her cancer diagnosis with David, all in all, it had gone well.
Blowing out a breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, noticing how in need of a trim she was, then went to gather her purse—when she saw Effie’s cosmetic bag. She noted a hairbrush and some moisturizer…
But on top of that bag sat a prescription bottle for barbiturates. Pentobarbital, to be precise—filled only three days ago.
Her heart stopped as her fingers reached out to pick up the bottle and type in the name of the drug to her phone.
Now her stomach fell to the floor when she saw what it was used for.
Euthanasia? Effie was going to take her own life?
And then Effie’s words came back to George. It has to be before I go…
Her mouth went bone dry, her eyes filling with tears. She’d said she had to meet David before she left for Cabo and it was because she was going to take her own life there. George knew it—felt it.
Oh, no. No, no, no! She couldn’t let her do that! She didn’t want her to be alone when she left this world.
No.
Without thinking, she rushed out to the barren living room to find Effie and Dex standing by her big picture window, talking about the scenery as though she wasn’t planning to take her
