This was the delicate balance that Greer had been so frightened of, that he had tried to prepare her for without tilting his off-balanced again.
Death couldn’t be beaten, stealthily striking regardless of the pain and turmoil left behind. Ballads and poems would never do justice to the feelings of those who were left behind to continue the ride without them when it was their turn to go.
Her mother’s ride had come to an end, and while it wasn’t where Jewell wanted her to get off, she was now where Michael, Brandon, and Trevor were waiting for her. The Ferris wheel would continue moving with someone else taking her place in the never-ending cycle.
Morosely, Jewell began to wonder if the ride was even worth it. At the thought, the image of Rory popped into her head, just as plain as Michael’s had been.
There had been periods of time worth it when Michael had been beside her, the many happy moments she’d had with Arin, with The Last Riders, and the short time she had been with Rory. The length of the ride didn’t matter as long as you had someone sitting next to you. She didn’t have to let the seat remain empty next to her; she had chosen to leave it empty, never letting anyone have a permanent seat.
If Rory chose to go back to Queen City, it would be empty again … if she let it … if she didn’t go with him. She had given Rory the ultimatum to choose her or leave while ultimately, the only choice she should have been concerned with was her own.
Who did she want to continue riding with? The Last Riders or Rory?
As she held her mother’s warm hand, she came to the hardest decision of her life. It had to be the one who made the wheel burn brighter, played the music you loved, and turned the speed slower … the one who you enjoy every fucking moment of being with them.
Straining hard to remain in control as the machines stopped beeping and her mother’s life ebbed away, she was forced to relinquish the hand that had brought her into this world, which had fed and nourished her for so many years … leaving her alone.
Reaching into her pocket, she clutched the star.
Turn the light on, Jewell mentally told Michael. Granny is coming home.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Ms. Bell, there isn’t anything else we can do, given your mother signed a DNR. She’s gone.”
Jewell numbly nodded as the doctor explained the state of her mother’s health. The doctor had been planning to release her today, to hospice care.
“Mom wasn’t taken off the transplant list because she asked to be, was she?”
“No. Her health had already deteriorated to the point that a transplant was impossible.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday when I talked to you on the phone?”
“I was only permitted to give you the information that your father allowed me to give, as her power of attorney and husband.”
Her father hated her so much that he didn’t want her to see her mother before she died. He didn’t think she would give the kidney that her mother so desperately needed.
“Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“I called to inform your father of your mother’s death. He told me you would make the funeral arrangements.”
“I will.”
By the time Jewell signed the paperwork needed and found a funeral home, with Arin’s father’s help, it was eleven before Jewell made her way to the hotel room. Wearily letting herself inside, she saw Greer sitting on the bed, putting one of his shoes on.
“I was about to call you …” He stared at her then dropped his foot to the floor and started putting on his other shoe. “Your ma’s gone, ain’t she?
“She died this morning.”
“She didn’t die. She passed on.” Greer rose to slide his belt through the loops of his pants. “You going back to Treepoint, or you staying for the funeral?”
“I’m staying. I need to plan her funeral.”
“Your pa doing okay?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Greer gave a disgusted grunt. “He’s one of those?”
“Sadly, yes.” Jewell heard her phone ringing. “Excuse me, Greer.”
“Don’t mind me. I’m going to brush my teeth.”
Jewell sat down at the small table. “Hello?”
“Ms. Bell, this is Robert at Norton Funeral Home. I hate to disturb you, but I need you to take care of something before I can precede with your mother’s burial. I ran the debit card, and it came back insufficient funds. Until we’re assured payment, we can’t proceed with—”
“The payment will be there within ten minutes,” Jewell cut him off. “I’ll transfer the money from another account. I apologize for the delay.”
Disconnecting the call, she went to her bank account and saw her dad had already cashed the check she had given him. Going to her contact list, she called Shade.