Clash

  Clash

  (A Left Turn Novel)

  By Belle Aurora

  Clash

  Published by Belle Aurora

  Copyright © 2020 Belle Aurora

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval” at authorbelleaurora@hotmail.com.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Belle Aurora is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs or musicians or artists mentioned in this book.

  Table of Contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  A Total Eclipse of the Heart.

  Emily

  2015

  The smile on my face softened as I slowly waltzed through the kitchen, mopping as I went and humming along to Paul Anka. He was playing on the record player, and something about the light crackle behind the music took me back to another time.

  “Put Your Head on my Shoulder” was a dear favorite of mine. We didn’t own a radio. Nanna said the songs of this generation gave her a headache and I understood that. Whenever I got the chance to hear something new at the mall, it confused me. Half the time, the songs were too loud, too brash, and made it seem like calling women bitches was a thing of romance.

  So Paul Anka continued to play in our household, which was fine with me. The songs of the era were terribly romantic, and I was a fan of romance in all forms.

  The mop glided over the tiled floor and I closed my eyes imagining a handsome boy chasing me down just to give me a flower and tell me I was beautiful.

  I wondered what it would be like to fall in love for real.

  My body jolted lightly when the shrill call of the phone as it rang broke me out of my stupor. Pausing mid-step, my eyes glanced over to the digital clock on the oven. Pushing my glasses up higher on the bridge of my nose, I saw the time and a frown pulled at my lips.

  It was getting late. Nanna should’ve been back by now.

  The phone continued to ring, and I set the mop aside, wiping my hands on my jeans. Pushing aside the sudden anxiety I felt, I answered it. “Hello?”

  “Is this Emily Aldrich?”

  The woman on the other line sounded stern. “Y-yes, it is. Who may I ask is calling?”

  “This is Susan Kelly. I’m an officer of the Pasadena Police Department.”

  My heart stopped but “Put Your Head on my Shoulder” continued to play.

  I listened to what she was saying, but it was hard to hear much over the sudden pounding in my head.

  “Are you still there?”

  I cleared my throat, and all but croaked out, “I am.”

  The officer sounded sympathetic. “We’re going to need you to come down to the station, Emily.”

  Paul Anka’s crooning had swiftly faded into the background.

  My voice was little over a whisper. “Okay.”

  “Just up here,” I pointed out, and when the car stopped, I rushed out, “Thanks, Jim. We shouldn’t be long.”

  My heart began to race the moment I stepped inside the police department. Scanning my surroundings, I panicked when I didn’t see Nanna anywhere. My cheeks were flushed with worry and my pace began to quicken. Jogging up to the reception, I swallowed hard, then uttered a frantic, “Hi, I’m here for my nanna, Fay Aldrich.”

  The officer behind the counter looked down at me. “Emily?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I’m going to need to see some I.D.”

  “Of course.” I removed my backpack, put it on the floor, and started to dig through it with shaking hands. Finally, I had the small plastic-covered student I.D. in my hands and I shoved it through the slot. The officer picked it up and studied it before sliding it back and opening a side door for me. “I’m Officer Kelly. We spoke on the phone. Come on through.”

  I did as she asked, but my voice wavered. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

  “She’s in the back, and she’s okay apart from the nice bump on her temple.” At my look of sheer horror, she smiled kindly. “I’ve had her looked over. She’s fine, really. She just took a fall.”

  “I still don’t understand.” My brow lowered. “Where did you say you found her?”

  “North of the freeway.”

  What?

  My heart stuttered. It didn’t make sense. That was not a good area. It was also way off from where she should’ve been.

  Officer Kelly opened a closed door and the second I saw my Nanna, a small spark of relief settled through me. I rushed into the room, dropping my backpack and moving to kneel in front of the small, frail-looking woman. “Are you okay?”

  Nanna squinted at me a moment before smiling tenderly then waving me off. “I’m fine.” She looked to the burly male officer sitting at the table. “Officer Grant, this is my June bug.” Nanna peered at me sweetly. “Say hello to Officer Grant, June. He’s been so kind, keeping me company.”

  “Nanna….” June was my mother’s name.

  My dead mother.

  Okay. What is happening here?

  My anxiety spiked.

  I twisted back, looking to Officer Kelly over my shoulder. She looked as confused as I was. It took some work but I quashed the panicked look on my face before I turned back to my grandmother. Instead, I pasted on a smile that didn’t quite translate. I was sure it was distorted. It felt weak and artificial. “Nanna, I’m just going to speak to Officer Kelly a moment, okay?”

  The charming woman who raised me peered up at me with a delicate smile. “Okay, dear.”

  Nanna sat quietly with her purse in her lap, and I stood, walking out of the room. Officer Kelly followed, closing the door behind her.

  I paced a while, a
nd Officer Kelly let me, obviously sensing my inner turmoil. My breathing began to heavy. The more I walked, the more my movement became erratic. A short noise left me as the alarm I was feeling came to head. Covering my mouth with my hands, I paced some more.

  Suddenly, my feet halted and I somehow found the strength to whisper, “Something’s wrong.” The moment I said the words, the familiar sting of tears assaulted my eyes. I blinked rapidly. My voice cracked, “Something’s wrong.”

  Officer Kelly comforted me as I held my head in my hands and wept, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

  Yes. Something was wrong.

  After a long chat with Office Kelly, Nanna was released into my care and, offering her my arm, I walked her over to the car where our neighbor Jim waited patiently. I felt awful. “I’m so sorry, Jim. I had no idea it would take that long.”

  Jim smiled kindly. “No problem, Em. Not like I had much to do today. This was a little adventure for me.” Then he grinned at Nanna. “Fay, darlin’, you get yourself into a bit of trouble, I see?”

  Nanna looked over at Jim, awash with confusion. “Is that Bert?” She beamed. “Why, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  Jim’s smile fell. He watched her a long moment before we exchanged a look.

  A concerned look.

  Jim had been our neighbor since forever. He and Nanna got along so well. They were around the same age. They both loved tending to their gardens in the springtime, and underneath their friendship, I had a feeling Jim was secretly in love with Nanna.

  I didn’t know who Bert was.

  My brows pulled together and my lips pulled down simultaneously.

  As a matter of fact, I didn’t think Nanna knew who Bert was.

  Once in the car, we drove in complete silence. Then out of nowhere, Nanna spoke and when she did, she did it quietly. “Where are we going, Emily?”

  I spun in my seat, relieved to hear her return to the here and now. When I saw the utter confusion on her face, my heart broke. “We’re going home.”

  “Oh,” she uttered, her brow knitting softly. “Of course.”

  Jim and I exchanged the same look we had before.

  Yes.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  ***

  2017

  I woke to the smell of burning and the sound of the smoke alarm beeping loudly.

  My body turned cold and I gasped, wide-eyed. Terrified, I rolled out of bed as quickly as I could and dashed out of my room. “Nanna!”

  But there was no response.

  The fear in me rose to a whole new level.

  Hands shaking, I called out again, louder this time. “Nanna!”

  My sock-covered feet slipped on the tiled floor, and when I reached the kitchen, my eyes widened. Smoke billowed up from the stove and whatever was melting on it.

  The fumes wafting up to the ceiling were awful, thick, and smoldering. Rushing over, I took a dishtowel and covered my mouth and nose with it, coughing loudly. With hesitant fingers, I switched off the stove and took an oven mitt, trying to lift the…

  Oh, geez. Are you kidding me?

  The electric kettle had melted right into the red-hot element.

  Great. Just great.

  Sighing in frustration, I tried to do what I could with it. Once I managed to lift the entire element off the stove and throw it into the sink, I turned on the cold water, leaving it on as I searched the house, opening windows as I went.

  The pink-lined clouds in the distance told me dawn was fast approaching and the longer I looked, the more tense I became.

  Oh God. Where is she?

  I called out cautiously, “Nanna?”

  A sharp knock sounded at the front door. The sound hit me right in the chest. Tired and on edge, I paused a second. Blinking into nothingness, I ran a hand down my forehead before going to answer it.

  Nanna stood there in her nightgown. Jim was stationed behind her in his brown plaid robe and his lip tilted into a careful smile, he smiled sadly. “Looking for someone?”

  My eyes widened then closed, and I breathed out, “Nanna.” With gentle hands, I ushered her inside, and Jim followed as I lightly scolded her, “Where have you been? I was so worried.”

  She was so frail then, even more than usual. Her hands shook from the cold. “I went to see Bert.” I took her small hands between mine and rubbed them softly in an attempt to warm them. And as I did this, a single thought went through my mind.

  This is starting to get out of control.

  Yes, it was.

  But what could I do?

  Jim entered the kitchen, surveying the damage. When he placed his hands on his hips and let out a long drawn out breath, I knew it was bad. And what was worse was, I didn’t know if we had the money for the repairs.

  We were thrifty, Nanna and I. I didn’t work, because taking care of Nanna was a full-time job. I got a caretaker allowance but between that and Nanna’s measly pension, there wasn’t exactly dough to burn.

  We didn’t have money saved for a rainy day, and our rainy days were becoming more and more frequent as it were.

  I felt helpless, useless, and while Jim worked in the kitchen, I settled Nanna down in front of the television with a blanket and nice, hot chamomile tea. The moment I walked back into the kitchen, Jim twisted to peer at me before continuing his work. He spoke kindly but to the point. “How long is this going to go on, darlin’?”

  I knew Jim had nothing but the best intentions, so I don’t know why my hackles rose as they did. I was just so tired. “You know our situation.”

  What more could I say? I left it at that.

  “I do,” he said gently, attempting to remove the melted plastic from the stovetop. “I also know your Nanna isn’t the woman she used to be.” He paused before ripping up a piece of plastic and throwing it into the sink. It landed with a tinkle. “And she almost burned down this house. With you in it.” He frowned down at the stove. “She put a plastic kettle onto the stove then walked away. She’s losing sense.” He stood tall, staring down at me. “Don’t tell me you think this won’t happen again. We both know it will.” His eyes softened marginally as he whispered, “She’s getting worse, Em.”

  She was. She was getting worse than I cared to admit.

  Jim was like the grandfather I never had and his dedication to our tiny family was more than we deserved. He was a good man. A great man.

  Suddenly overwhelmed, my lip began to quiver. “What can I do?” A low groan sounded as I pulled out a chair at the small dining table. Sitting, I slapped my hands down onto my thighs and spoke firmly but quietly, “I can’t afford to put her into a home.” When Jim opened his mouth to speak, I amended, “A good home. Not a state home. Jesus, have you seen those places, Jim?”

  My nose bunched.

  No.

  They were awful. I wouldn’t do that to Nanna. Not after everything she had done for me.

  Jim watched me closely sensing my distress. He came over, pulling out the chair next to mine and sitting. “Honey, I love Fay, but she’s got dementia.” He leaned in and his eyes searched mine. “She’s not going to get any better. It’s only going to get worse from here. And—” He seemed to regret what he was about to say. “—most of the time, she doesn’t even recognize you.”

  My chest ached painfully.

  I knew that. Believe me, I knew that.

  It was utterly heartbreaking.

  I was tired, and this conversation was wearing on me so I said the only thing I could to put an end to it.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  ***

  2018

  “Thanks again, Jim,” I said wearing a sunny smile, holding the spare light globe between both hands.

  Running out of bulbs was not a big deal normally but not when you had a dementia patient in the house and had to leave the lights on pretty much all the time. Jim, as usual, came to the rescue.

  “Not a problem, Em.”
He watched me walk back into my yard, as he always did.

  I waved to him from the door and stepped inside. Nanna was sweeping the hall and I grinned to myself. She liked to keep a tidy home. “I could’ve done that.”

  Nanna spun around, a terrified yelp leaving her mouth. Before I could register what was happening, she lifted the broom handle and brought it down, hard and fast, over my head.

  And then I was on the ground, momentarily dazed and disoriented.

  The blow was so unexpected I bit my tongue and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

  Nanna, wide-eyed and frightened, lifted the broom a second time but I held out my hands, shuffling backward. “Nanna, no! It’s me, Emily!” The broom came down across my arms and I let out a pained shout. “It’s me!” I cried out a desperate, “It’s me!”

  Shocked and shaken, the hot rush of tears wet a trail down my cheeks.

  My panicked cry combined with my horrified shout brought Jim running.

  He already had his cell phone out, dialing with one hand while helping me up with the other. “Yes, I need an ambulance.” A pause, then, “It’s 8634 Cedar.”

  My entire soul felt numb and looking across the hall, I heard Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on my Shoulder” as I watched my petrified grandmother look at me as if I were a monster.

  And with that look, my entire world changed.

  I hadn’t realized I needed stitches until the paramedics looked me over. It looked worse than what it was, really. Just a tiny cut at the crown of my head. Unfortunately, the medic told me that head wounds tended to bleed a lot, especially in a panic when the heart is pumping hard.

  “We’re going to take her to Glendale Memorial,” the medic explained kindly. “They have a great geriatric unit.”

  Oh. Did they?

  That’s nice.

  I remained seated. “Thank you.” My voice was hoarse.

  Jim put his arm around me and I leaned into him, desperately needing the comfort.

  The woman knelt by my feet then looked up at me. “You’ve done a great job looking after her but, as of now,” her eyes were gentle when she revealed, “she needs more than you can offer.”