Over the River and Through the Woods

"Aren't you going to answer your phone?" her friend asked after it rang the fourth time.

"No. No, I'm not."

She didn't bother explaining why. The call was from her mother, and she hadn't spoken to her mom since she told her daughter she was leaving her father ten years ago. That news had broken her heart, and she still blamed her mom for the divorce. And in her mind, she had every right to do so, because it was her mother who'd been unfaithful.

The call went to voicemail where it stayed for two days before she finally got around to checking it. When she did, she did steeled herself for the sound of her mother's voice to keep her from getting angry. Or at least...too angry.

"Colby? Hi. It's...it's Mom. I know you don't want to talk to me, but I need you to know that..."

There was a fairly long pause before her mother continued.

"Honey? You grandma...my mother...passed away this morning. It was unexpected to be sure, but she was 84, so..."

There was another pause before she finished.

"So...I'm going back home, and I was hoping you and Emma will come, too. To...the funeral. Mom paid for everything several years ago, so all that needs to be done is choose a date for the service. I hope you won't punish your grandmother for my sins, Colby, but if you choose not to come home, I'll understand. You should know Mom left the house to you, so at some point, you'll need to deal with that. Anyway, I...I'd say I'm sorry again, but I know you're not interested in hearing it, so I'll just say...I love you. And I do, you know. Well...goodbye, honey."

By the time the message ended, Colby Sellars was crying from grief and shaking from anger. The grief was obvious. Her grandmother had become a kind of best friend over the years, and the anger was the result of hearing her mother trying to apologize again. It was irrational, but at some level, Colby wanted to blame her mother for her grandmother's death after having destroyed their family.

As she sat there crying, she was glad her seven-year old daughter, Emma, was at school. Colby had cried enough in front of her daughter after having to tell her father was dead two years earlier. Of course, she'd couched it in terms a five-year old girl could understand like her father being in heaven or becoming an angel to watch over them.

Johnny Sellars's death was accidental but not unexpected. Colby knew there was an opioid epidemic in the country, but until then it hadn't been anything more than something she heard about on the evening news. She also knew he was using heroin, and she'd begged him to get help, but it was to no avail.

The reason for his addiction was something Colby understood even if it made her feel like he'd given up and quit. They'd left their small-town life in John Day, Oregon, when her husband convinced her to move to Los Angeles where he hoped to break into the world of show business and land a part in a movie or TV show.

Living in Los Angeles, even in a dumpy apartment in a dangerous neighborhood, was insanely expensive, but Colby believed in her handsome husband, and packed up what little she owned and followed him as he followed his dream, just a year after her mother's sordid affair that was the source of gossip all around town.

"We might both have to wait tables for a year or two, but this will happen, baby. I promise you that," he'd told her shortly after they moved into a barely-livable dive where Colby lived in constant fear.

Johnny Sellars was certainly good looking enough to be an actor. He was the stereotypical 'tall, dark, and handsome' type, and that was what had attracted Colby to him from the moment they first met. He also had some experience with his drama club in both high school and college before returning to John Day where they first met and fell in love. He'd been five years older than her so she'd seen him around town, but she had no idea he might one day ask her to marry him.

So as unlikely as it seemed, Colby thought it was at least possible, and she was so in love she told him to go for it, and they packed up what little they had and headed south to make it big.

Colby was as pretty as he'd been handsome, but the thought of her trying to break into 'the business' herself never crossed her mind. She was a statuesque 5'10" tall and weighed 120 pounds, give or take. Before the birth of her child, she'd worn a size two but didn't look emaciated. After that, she was able to get back down to a four, and at 127 pounds, again give or take, she was perhaps even more attractive than before. She wore her honey-blonde hair to her shoulders, and her blue eyes were bright and beautiful—just like her amazing smile.

But not being overly 'endowed', Colby felt self-conscious about the way she looked in spite of years of being told she was a very beautiful woman. The irony of that was that most supermodels were also very small in that department, and it was viewed as an attribute rather than a negative. But being that tall and wearing a A-cup bra, something she almost didn't even need to wear, kept her from letting her believe she really was beautiful the woman everyone else saw.

The bottom line was, she was young and in love, and back then, nothing else mattered. At least not until Emma came along.

But as time went by and the years ticked off, her husband's big break never came. Their shaky financial situation became desperate after Emma was born, and Colby was forced to continue working just to make ends meet.

And until Johnny turned to cocaine and then heroin, they'd always managed to get by. Colby initially had no idea he was using, but when he was no longer able to hold a job, she began putting two and two together. And then one day she saw the red marks on his arms which soon became 'tracks', and she was more afraid than she'd ever been.

The last two years since Johnny's death had been brutally difficult, but Colby was willing to work two jobs, and thanks to some modest help in the form of welfare, a word she detested but dearly needed, they managed to survive.

Her husband's drug habit ended the day he unwittingly bought a drug from a dealer who told him it was the best stuff he'd ever seen. He promised Johnny the highest of highs, and it was less expensive. At least that's what the detectives who came to their apartment told her.

"Your husband overdosed on Fentanyl," the female officer explained.

Colby hadn't even heard of it, but the male office explained how incredibly strong and lethal it was. He said something about the majority of deaths from opioids no longer being heroin but this synthetically-produced killer that was 50 times stronger than 'smack', the street name for heroin.

She really didn't hear anything else, but she knew they told her again how sorry they were for her loss. That had been two years ago, just one week after Emma turned five.

Too shocked to speak for hours, she sat there unable to even cry. But as the months ticked off, she became angry, and at one point, she even hated him for leaving her and their daughter all alone.

Even now, she was still angry, but it was different. It was tempered with a kind of sadness she couldn't really explain. And in the end, it didn't really matter. He was still gone, and she was still alone, and Emma had no father.

So between that and her mother's decision to seek the company of another man, she now harbored all of these negative feelings that were eating her up from the inside out. Making matters even worse, the one person who'd always been there for her was now gone, too.

Colby had been fairly close to her mom growing up, but her mother had never been the warm, nurturing type. That had been her father, the one person, before she discovered this gem she called 'Grandma', who was always there for her. But at some point, he'd begun dating and eventually remarried and moved to Ohio, so their relationship was now just the occasional phone call or maybe a video chat.

As she sat there dealing with this latest blow, Colby was so thankful she'd gone home over the summer. Her grandmother sent her plane tickets and promised to pay for everything to include the money Colby would lose from missing work. She and Emma had stayed at her grandmother's house for a week, and by the time they left, Emma loved her almost as much as her mom.

Not going home for the funeral was out of the question with home meaning the tiny town of John Day, Oregon, with a population of less than 2,000. Paying for the trip was another matter, but she was pretty sure she cover the airfare with a credit card. After that, she'd be on fumes and have to hope for some kind of miracle, but she wasn't going to miss the funeral for any reason.

Her grandmother's house needed some work, but since it was now hers, once she sold it, she'd not only have the airfare and other expenses covered, she might actually be able to get by for a few years. And maybe, just maybe, she and Emma would be able to move to a nicer part of the city where she wouldn't have to worry every time she or her daughter left the house.

Sick of thinking about everything, she got up and tried to decide how best to tell her daughter someone else she loved had been taken from her life. An hour later, she still had no idea, and chose instead to think about the good times with her grandmother and how she would go about fixing the place up enough to sell it and get back to LA to start a better life.

The thought of leaving LA was out of the question, even though the cost of living was insanely high, even in a low-rent district like the one she and her daughter lived in. For Colby, the city was like a drug, and it had become her drug of choice. She'd become addicted to the fast-paced way of life, so even when her husband died, she gave no thought to something as radical as moving. Even now that was out of the question, let alone something as ridiculous as returning to John Day and actually living there. To Colby, life in John Day was about as exciting as watching paint dry or grass grow, so in spite of the challenges city life presented, she at least felt alive there. Or so she thought.

Telling Emma was the second hardest thing she'd ever done, but together they got through the night, and the following afternoon, they were on a plane going home. The nearest airport to John Day was Eastern Oregon Regional airport in Pendleton, Oregon, which was about 130 miles from the town where Colby grew up.

She'd stayed in touch with one friend over the years with 'friend' being very loosely applied. This friend wasn't happy about the drive, but because she knew how difficult it was getting to John Day, she agreed to go pick her up. Helping Emma was the deciding factor for this friend, but that wasn't something she told Colby.

"Home," Colby thought as they passed the 'Welcome to John Day' sign on the outskirts of town. "This hasn't been 'home' for many years."

Her mother had left town with the man she cheated on her father with. He'd remarried and moved away, she had no brothers or sisters, and now that her grandmother was gone, John Day was just the place where she'd grown up. It certainly wasn't 'home'.

"Mommy? It's freezing!" Emma said when they stepped outside and into the cold air of late November after pulling into her great-grandmother's driveway and exiting the vehicle.

"Sorry, honey. It'll will be nice and toasty warm inside," her mother promised.

Colby managed not to get emotional as she hugged her childhood friend and thanked her again after she finished helping them set the last of their tattered luggage on the front porch.

She found the spare key right where it had always been, and let Emma inside first as she dragged their bags in behind them only to learn that GG's house, short for 'great-grandma's', was not toasty warm. In fact, it was downright cold.

The lights were on throughout the house, and Colby shivered as she tapped the thermostat, something she'd seen her grandmother do many times when it was cold in the house. Having no effect, she went downstairs and saw that the pilot light was out and prayed that was all there was to it. She found the box of matches her grandma kept on a shelf and struck one. The flame glowed blue, and she heard the furnace kick in.

"Thank you, God!" she said as she shivered again.

"It'll start warming up pretty soon," she told Emma before finding one of her GG's old quilts to bundle her up in until the house warmed up.

Like her mother, Emma was a pretty girl . But she, too, lacked self-confidence. That hadn't always been the case, however. It started right after she learned her father had died, and it had gotten progressively worse ever since. She was still mostly a happy child, but she was no longer the bubbly little girl Colby remembered prior to her world being torn apart.

An hour later the temperature in her grandmother's house had risen from a frosty 40 degrees to 64, and although it was bearable, it was still very chilly. She tried tapping on the thermostat dial again but to no avail so she turned it up to 85. An hour later, there was no difference, and she forgot all about it. Colby had also grabbed a big, heavy, ugly-looking sweater from her grandmother's closet, and was able to tough it out until she went to bed and pulled the stack of blankets over her head, after doing the same for her daughter.

When she woke up, Colby had no idea what time it was, but she realized she was sweating.

"What in blazes..." she asked herself as she walked down the hallway to the thermostat. When she remembered where she'd set it, she mumbled, "Oh, great!"

Somehow, during the night, whatever it was that was stuck came unstuck, and now it was like a sauna inside the house. Emma was sound asleep, so her mom pulled the old quilt on top of her off and let her sleep.

It was 6am, and Colby couldn't sleep because it so so warm, but even so, she needed caffeine. So she went to the kitchen to make some coffee—in spite of the heat.

As the house cooled, Colby sat there sipping her first cup. As she did, she became aware of the sounds of silence from the outside. LA was always noisy, and especially where she lived. She'd gotten used to the sounds, and whenever she came h...back here...the silence was 'deafening'. And yet, as she sat there enjoying a strong cup of what her grandmother often called 'mud', she found the silence rather pleasant for the first time since she'd lived there growing up.

Two hours later, the house was at a very comfortable 70 degrees, and Colby wasn't about to touch anything. Emma walked into the kitchen a few minutes later unaware of the drastic swing in temperatures and said she was hungry.

Her grandma's kitchen and refrigerator were well-stocked, so Colby smiled and asked, "Pancakes or eggs?"

"Pancakes!" Emma said in an unusually happy voice.

"Comin' right up!" her mother said, having finished a second cup of mud.

"Can I help, Mom?" Emma asked.

"Well...sure, honey," her surprised mother told her as she pulled up a chair for Emma to stand on as they mixed the batter to make their morning meal.

At one point some pancake mix poofed up in the air, and when Emma saw her mom trying not to laugh, she laughed. Colby gave in and laughed, too, the first time they'd done that what seemed like forever.

*****

"Where are you headed, Mom?"

"I'm going over to Ethyl's to make sure the house is okay," his mother told him. "I don't think anyone's been around to check on it, but maybe her daughter's back in town and been there. Regardless, until I know, someone needs to make sure it hasn't been robbed—or worse."

"It's sad, you know? She was such a nice lady."

His mother told her son he was right.

"She was unfailingly happy. Every time I ever saw her she was in a good mood. We weren't all that close, but she was such a nice person, and I have no idea if anyone has even checked on the house since she passed."

"If you find any problems, just let me know, okay?" her son told her.

"You know I will, honey," she replied, knowing her son could fix anything that might be wrong.

"I guess I'll see you at the store then?" he said as she pulled on her coat.

"Oh, definitely. I won't be long over at Ethyl's. I'm just gonna take a look around and make sure everything's okay."

"Did she have any pets?" her son asked.

"You know, I'm not sure. Gosh, I hope not. It's been three days now, and if she's got cats or a dog..."

He knew his mom would feed and water anything living thing she found, so that wasn't the issue. Longterm care of any pets was the real concern. Her son loved animals as much as anyone, and he'd find a way to make sure they were looked after and then adopted by a caring family.

"All right, then. I guess I'll see you in an hour or so," his mom said just before leaving the house.

His mom was Susan Orr, and he was Wade Orr, who now owned and ran the only hardware store in town since his father's passing a year ago last summer. The store would have gone to Susan, but she'd never had any interest in it, and she and her husband put in their wills that it would go to Wade were anything to happen to him or both of them at the same time. Growing up, Wade had spent countless hours there after school with his father, and later, working for his dad as he continued to learn how to use virtually everything they sold.

So Wade now owned the store, but continued to take care of his mother much the way his father had when he was alive, and she in turn, helped out there as often as she could.

Wade was now at a point where he could pretty much build a house from scratch, assuming he had a little help with anything one man couldn't do by himself. In fact, he'd been saving money to build a place for himself when his father died, but ever since, he'd put the idea on hold.

It was as much a practical matter as anything else, as he was really all his mother had left, and he didn't mind living at home. So while the idea of having his own place appealed to him, he knew it could wait until his mother was ready to deal with living by herself, and hopefully, one day at least, possibly find someone new to love.

At 25, Wade wasn't exactly looking to settle down so having his own place wasn't critically important, but he was looking to have his own place somewhere down the road.

He was a very nice looking guy who'd been shorter than average most of his life, but he grew nearly a foot before the start of his sophomore year and the beginning of his senior year. At 6' 2" and 175 pounds, the once-scrawny kid became a very good looking young man. He had very dark hair and a great smile, and he was the kind of person everyone—male and female—wanted to be friends with.

By the time he was old enough to date, he had no trouble attracting female attention, and he'd even gotten serious once after high school. But that ended when the thought of getting married and staying with the same woman—for life—when he was just 20 years old, scared the bejeezus out of him. Now, five years later, the thought was much less frightening, and once he had that house of his own...who knew?

Following the example his father had set for him, Wade got to the store at 8am every day even though it didn't open until 9 o'clock, so he could make sure everything was ready.

When his mom still hadn't shown up by 10, he got concerned and gave her a call.

"Wade. Hi, honey. I'm on my way. Ethyl's granddaughter and great-granddaughter were both there. I ran into her once last summer, but I haven't seen in her in...gosh, I guess maybe four or five years or more? She's a tall, pretty thing, and that daughter of hers is cute as a button. Anyway, we got to talking about her grandma and what a sweet woman she was, and then we got onto her life in the big city..."

His mom paused then said, "Poor thing lost her husband a couple of years back due to some drug I've never heard of. Anyway I kind of lost track of time."