Lauren

At a quarter to six, my phone rings. I was in the middle of a great dream, spending time with my favourite person. He was giving me all his attention, and I was soaking it in, not wanting it to end. It has been a while since I’ve felt that way, even in my dreams.

But of course, someone has to ruin it.

The phone keeps ringing, pulling me out of sleep. I squint and try to open my eyes as the last fragments of my dream slip away. Then, thankfully, it stops. I shut my eyes again, hoping I can drift back into that fading moment.

Then it rings again.

This time, I pick up without looking. “What’s going on, Nat? It’s way too early,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes and blinking against the light.

“Frances is dead,” Natalie says. Her voice is tight, like she is holding something in.

All the sleep drains from my body as I sit up. “What?”

“Frances… she died in her sleep.”

“She wasn’t palliative, right?” I ask, confused. Natalie never mentioned anything about Frances being near the end. I used to work at Garden Ray, so I know everyone there, and Nat usually keeps me in the loop.

“No, she was perfectly fine. I don’t know what happened. Ashley and Trey went to change her and found her like that.”

“She was only eighty-two. That’s not very old,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.

“Yeah, I know.” Natalie sounds drained, like she has not had a minute to breathe.

“Is his family there yet?”

“Not yet. Jack hasn’t come, but he will be here in the morning.”

“It’s alright,” I say quietly. “It’s what we always say, right? We work with people who are mostly just waiting.”

Natalie’s voice drops. “I guess so. It’s been a rough night. Brian had another fall.”

“Of course he did. One more thing for Renee to worry about. Is he okay?”

“He broke his hip. I sent him to the hospital.”

“Oh no.”

“I needed a few minutes to breathe, so I came out to my car. It’s been such chaos, I can’t even think straight.”

“I wish I could bring you a coffee. If I weren’t stuck here at the hospital, I’d come help. This back pain is brutal. I can barely move.”

“I know you would have. I miss you.”

“Alright, take a breather, then get back in there. I want to see you by seven thirty, alright? And don’t stay hours later just to chart everything perfectly.”

“I won’t,” she says.

I hang up and fall back onto my pillow, drifting back to sleep almost instantly. This time, I feel a bit more at peace.