At The Turning Point (Choices: Story One)

by Beth Carpenter

At the Turning Point: Choices, Story One

  A Short Story

  By Beth Carpenter

  Copyright Beth Carpenter 2012

  Cover image by Sastvaa at freedigitalphotos.net

  Other Stories by Beth Carpenter

  Last Flight from Flagstaff: Choices, Story Two

  Family Planning: Choices, Story Three

  At the Turning Point

  Even before I opened my eyes, I could sense the light coming from the foot of the bed instead of over my right shoulder and I knew I wasn’t in my own bed. Without moving, I tried to remember where I was. My mind was always fuzzy in the morning, but this morning it seemed to be especially slow.

  Las Vegas. That’s right - I was on vacation. I opened my eyes. The light shone through the sheer curtains at the French doors leading to the balcony and glinted off the crystals of the chandelier. This wasn’t my hotel room. I turned my head to see the depression in the pillow beside me.

  Slowly memories began to surface. Dinner, a wonderful meal with fine wines, with a charming gentleman named Ross. I wasn’t sure if Ross was his first name or his last. After dinner, we went to the casino. He got on a lucky streak at the blackjack table and we celebrated with champagne and then, apparently, we ended up here.

  Wow, my first one night stand since, well, ever. Forty-four years old and here I was, waking up in a hotel room with a stranger. Probably not what my daughter had in mind when she urged me to take a vacation after my divorce became final. I’d felt guilty about spending the money, but she found me a cheap package deal. Now I had something else to feel guilty about. I wondered idly if this made me a slut. I thought back to the last time I shared a bed with a man, a little more than six months before.

  Mark took me out to our favorite restaurant that Saturday. Back home again, he made love to me with the kind of expertise and confidence that only comes after years together. Afterward, we soaked together in the Jacuzzi. I was lying back with my eyes closed when he detonated the bomb that destroyed my world.

  He told me he was bored, stifled. He couldn’t stand his life any longer. He had to make a change. He was leaving his job and his family, moving to Costa Rica.

  “Alone?”

  “No. With someone I know from work. Brittany.”

  I looked directly into his eyes. “Just how old is Brittany?”

  He looked away. “I don’t know exactly.”

  “About how old?” I pressed.

  “Twenty-four,” he mumbled.

  “You realize that is only four years older than your daughter,” I pointed out.

  “Yes I do realize that,” he said.

  “I suppose you do.” The truth was beginning to sink in. A tear formed in my eye. “How could you make love to me like that while you were planning to leave me?”

  “It’s not that I don’t love you,” he said. “I just can’t let my life stay this way. I have to make a change.”

  Suddenly I couldn’t stand to be so close to him for another second. I climbed out of the tub and stood there, dripping on the bathroom floor.

  “I want you out,” I said. “Now.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “Yes I am angry,” I answered slowly, ice forming around each word. “I want you gone. You have ten minutes to get out of my house.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Your house?”

  “Yes. This is our family home. If you are leaving our family then you are no longer welcome in our family home.” I looked at the clock. “You have nine minutes.”

  It took longer than ten minutes, but eventually he left.

  “Well, good morning, Donna.” The smooth deep voice broke me out of my reverie. “I thought you were going to sleep the day away. I’ve ordered breakfast.”

  I smiled up at Ross. He really was a nice man. A little older than me, probably in his middle fifties. Streaks of silver glinted in his brown hair, and warm brown eyes twinkled from a tanned face with the fine laugh lines you see on men who enjoy the outdoors, whether from working or playing golf. “Breakfast sounds great.”

  A knock sounded and he left the bedroom of the suite to answer the door. On the table beside the bed, my cell phone began to ring. I picked it up without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

  “Donna?” The familiar voice was distorted by crackling static.

  “Mark?” I said. “This really isn’t a good time. Is everything okay with Rachel?”

  “Uh, yeah, she’s fine as far as I know. I just need to talk with you. I’m flying in tonight. Could you meet me in the morning?

  “Sorry, I’m out of town right now,” I answered, with a small thrill of satisfaction in thwarting his plans.

  “Oh, I see,” he said. “Okay well, will you please call me when you get back? It’s important.”

  “Sure, in a few days,” I said. My return ticket was in two days, but he didn’t need to know that. I’d let him stew until I was back in town. “Goodbye Mark.” I ended the call and laid my phone on the nightstand. I wondered what was so important that he had to fly back from Costa Rica. Something to do with the divorce settlement? The divorce was done, final. I’d insisted on keeping the house, which meant nearly all the investments went to Mark. Money was tight with Rachel’s college expenses and the mortgage payment. I shrugged; I’d find out soon enough what he wanted.

  I lifted my bare arms out of the covers to stretch. The light glinted off a plain gold ring on my left hand. Uh-oh.

  I stared at the ring on my finger. After the champagne, I had a vague memory of a tacky wedding chapel. I remember giggling as I carried a slightly grubby bunch of silk lilies down a short aisle. Married. I guess that meant that I wasn’t a slut; I was an idiot.

  I could hear the voices and the sound of the hall door closing, so I made a mad dash for the bathroom before Ross could reappear. I found a soft white robe hanging on the back of the door, which was a good thing since I had no idea what I had done with my clothes. I looked in the mirror, somehow expecting to see a different person, the kind of person who woke up in strange hotel rooms. My own familiar face stared back, makeup a little smudged but otherwise looking no different than usual. I washed my face and borrowed Ross’s comb to run through my wavy honey-colored hair.

  I took a deep breath and pasted a calm expression on my face before sauntering out of the bedroom. Ross was at the table, dishing up plates of eggs, bacon, and strawberries. “Mmm, that looks good,” I said.

  He looked up and smiled as though he was truly glad to see me. “Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee would be great, thank you. Black.” I was surprised to find that I had only a slight headache.

  Ross handed me the cup. As I reached for it with both hands, he looked at the ring on my finger.

  “We seem to have gotten a little carried away last night,” he said, a sheepish smile on his face.

  “So it seems,” I agreed.

  “Well, fortunately, in Vegas it is almost as easy to undo a mistake as it is to make one,” Ross said. “We’ll get this all straightened out in the next day or two.”

  I let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. “That’s good to hear. I admit I was a little concerned this morning.” The last thing I wanted was another contentious divorce.

  “Of course. Here, have some breakfast. I’ll call my lawyer in a little while and find out exactly what we need to do.”

  Much relieved, I found I had an appetite. The breakfast was excellent. I looked around the suite. The cherry wood of the dining table matched a lovely armoire in the seating area that probably held a television. Soft yellow chairs
and a sofa were arranged around a polished coffee table. Obviously, Ross’s suite was a big step up from the basic hotel room where I had been staying.

  Ross cleared his throat nervously. “Donna, I just wanted to say, uh, last night - it meant a lot to me. I’ve been all alone since my wife died a year and a half ago, and, well, it was good to be with someone. Good to be with you.”

  I felt my cheeks getting warm. “Ross, what a sweet thing to say. I’m afraid I don’t completely remember everything…”

  “Oh, of course, that’s okay. I just…” he stuttered.

  “You really are a sweetheart, aren’t you?’ I said. “Ross?” I was alarmed to see that he had suddenly slumped over and one side of his face was sagging. “Ross, are you okay?”

  “I…I don’t think so.” He could hardly get the words out. “Ambulance?”

  I rushed to the phone on the desk and dialed 911. “Yes, I think he is having a stroke. We’re in, uh, just a minute…” I grabbed the receipt off the breakfast cart. “Room 611, Turning Point Suites.”

  When the medics arrived, I looked for Ross’s wallet to see if he had an insurance card. He did. His Arizona driver’s license told me his name was Ross Meredith, age 58, 5’11” 170 pounds. So that made me Donna Meredith. A hysterical giggle started to bubble up, but I tamped it down before it could escape.

  One of the medics finished strapping Ross to a gurney and turned toward me. “We’re ready to go, ma’am. We’ll be taking him to Sunrise. You could ride along, or maybe meet us there,” he said, looking at my robe.

  “I’ll meet you there,” I told the medic. Ross had an oxygen mask over his face, but his right eye was wide with fear. His left eye sagged. I squeezed his hand. “Hang on Ross. I’ll be there soon.”

  As soon as they were out the door, I located my clothes under the bed and got dressed. I grabbed Ross’s wallet, key card, and cell phone and stuffed them into my purse that I found lying on the floor beside the bed. I caught a cab to the hospital. At the emergency entrance, I approached the window. “I’m here for Ross Meredith.”

  The receptionist looked up. “Are you his wife?”

  “Um, yes,” I said.

  She gave me an odd look but didn’t question my statement. She pulled out a form. “Address?”

  I opened his wallet and pulled out his driver’s license and insurance card. “Here’s the information you need,” I told her.

  She copied the information from the cards. “Any allergies?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We haven’t been married long.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Meredith. Go through those doors there and Mary will take you back to Mr. Meredith.” It took me a second to realize that she was talking to me.

  A few minutes later, I was in a curtained alcove next to Ross’s bed. He seemed to relax a little as I took his hand. An IV tube led to his arm. The left side of his face still drooped, but I told myself it looked a little better. He moved his mouth but no sound came out.

  “It’s okay, Ross, I’m here,” I told him. “You just rest and I’ll take care of everything.”

  Ross closed his eyes. Before long, a doctor came into view from behind the curtain, a youngish man with very short brown hair. I noticed he looked tired.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Meredith. I’m afraid that Mr. Meredith has suffered a stroke. The good news is that we were able to treat him quickly and dissolve the clot. We won’t know how much permanent damage was done for a little while, but we are cautiously optimistic. We will be moving him to a private room. Later we’ll run some tests.”

  I nodded. The doctor swept out of the alcove, and a few minutes later a team of people swarmed in and began readying Ross for the move, ignoring me. I tried to stay out of the way. Once they were ready, one of them looked at me for the first time and instructed me to follow them to the hospital room on another floor.

  Eventually, they got him settled into a bed, and told me that he would probably be resting for a while. A floor nurse introduced herself and showed me where to find a visitor lounge and coffee machine. Fortified with a cup of coffee, I settled myself in the chair next to Ross and began looking through his cell phone and wallet.

  First, I tried calling the number identified as Home, but it just rang and rang. I’d hoped for a housekeeper or at least an answering machine, but no such luck. I was beginning to remember more of our dinner conversation. Ross was a widower; his wife had died of cancer about a year and a half ago. I remember the haunted look in his eyes as he spoke of the cancer.

  I flipped through the plastic sleeves in his wallet and found a card– the kind that comes with the wallet and has you fill in your contact information. In case of emergency, contact Cindy Meredith. That was his wife’s name, I remembered. I guess he had never updated the card since her death.

  There was a wonderful picture of Ross and a middle-aged woman with light brown curls and a mischievous grin. Cindy. Her eyes laughed up at him. You could practically see the love passing between them. The next page was a picture of Ross and a smiling but very thin Cindy flanking an attractive young woman wearing a cap and gown. She had the same light brown curls as Cindy cascading over her shoulders. That’s right; he had a daughter. In fact, I remembered, our daughters were not too far apart in age. He said that they had given up on ever having children only to be delighted by a surprise pregnancy when they had been married ten years.

  His daughter was something of an idealist, he said. She had graduated with a degree in microbiology, but had joined the Peace Corps and was off in Africa somewhere doing who knows what. He only heard from her once a month when she traveled to a place that had an internet connection.

  What was her name? I scrolled through the contacts on his cell phone. Most looked like business contacts. Kristen, no last name – that could be her. It had an Arizona area code. I dialed the number and got a “no longer in service” recording. That made sense if she wasn’t in America anymore. I pulled the picture out of its sleeve in the wallet. Sure enough, “Kristen’s Graduation 2010” was written on the back in feminine handwriting.

  I checked on Ross again. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. I moved away from his bed to a chair in the corner of the room to begin making calls about how to contact someone in the Peace Corps. Forty-five minutes and many transfers later I finally hit pay dirt with Emily. Emily was both competent and sympathetic and promised to get word to Kristen as soon as possible that her dad was in this hospital. I gave her my cell phone number and hoped for the best.

  Next, I had to make my own arrangements. First, I called my business partner, Susan. We have an accounting business. I knew that she wouldn’t have a problem taking care of anything that came up since I had purposely scheduled my vacation after April 15th. “I need to stay in Las Vegas for a few more days,” I told her. “Family emergency.”

  “I didn’t know you had any family in Vegas,” Susan said.

  “Well, more family by marriage,” I hedged.

  “You should let that rat, Mark, take care of his own family,” Susan said.

  “Not that marriage. I’ll explain later. Thanks for taking care of everything and call me if you need me. Bye.”

  Next was my daughter, Rachel. She was finishing out her freshman year, getting ready for finals, hopefully too busy to worry about me. I got her voice mail. “Hi honey. Listen, I’ll be staying in Las Vegas for a little longer. A friend has a medical emergency, and I’ll be staying to help for a while. I have my cell if you need me. Love you. Bye.”

  Another quick call to the airline, and I was set. I moved back to Ross’s bedside and smoothed a small strand of hair back from his face. The nurse had shown me how to apply lip balm to help keep him comfortable and so I did that. His closed eyes and even breathing seemed to indicate that he was sleeping peacefully.

  Eventually a doctor came and asked me to leave while they ran some tests. I made
a quick trip to the cafeteria for a mediocre ham sandwich. When I got back, the doctor had just finished. He said that Ross had some small response in his left hand and foot, and that we needed to stimulate him to use them in order to help him regain control of his left side. When I went back into the room, Ross’s eyes were open. They seemed to plead with me.

  “I’ve called and they are trying to contact Kristen,” I assured him. “I’m sure we will hear from her soon.” It may have been my imagination, but I think I saw relief in his eyes before the lids closed once again.

  The nurses came in every so often to check Ross’s vital signs. One of them showed me where there were extra pillows and blankets so that I could sleep in the recliner beside Ross’s bed if I wanted. Everyone seemed to accept that I had every right to be there, and why wouldn’t they? I was the only one who knew I was an imposter, and I intended to stay until Ross’s real family could take over. Somehow, oddly, I felt I owed it to Cindy.

  The night passed uneventfully, the recliner surprisingly comfortable. The next morning, the nurse told me that they would be giving Ross a bath and this would be a good time to take care of myself. I looked down at my wrinkled dress. The sequins that had seemed appropriate for a dinner date were a bit out of place in the hospital. I took the hint and went back to my hotel room to shower and change. Clean and dressed in jeans and comfortable top, I felt more like myself.

  Next, I went to Ross’s hotel. It was just a block from mine, but a world away in luxury. The marble lobby was scattered with palms and elaborate floral arrangements. I went up to Ross’s room and packed his things into his suitcases, putting one set of clothes aside in a plastic shopping bag to take to the hospital for him. I found the marriage certificate lying on his nightstand. I folded it into a hotel envelope and put it into my purse for safekeeping. I rolled Ross’s suitcases to the elevator and up to the front desk.

  “I’m checking Mr. Meredith out of room 611,” I explained. “He had a medical emergency and will be in the hospital for several days.”

  “And what relation are you to Mr. Meredith?” the clerk asked.

  “I’m his wife,” I said, with what I hoped was confidence.

  “I’m sorry but he didn’t check in with a wife,” the clerk said. “May I please see some identification?”

  “That may be a problem,” I explained. “We’re newlyweds and I haven’t changed my identification yet. Wait, I have the marriage certificate right here.” I pulled out my driver’s license and the marriage certificate.

  “I see. You were on your honeymoon when this happened. I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Meredith. You won’t be staying on with us here?”

  “No, I have a room,” I started to say. “I mean I’ll be staying at the hospital with Mr. Meredith, so there is no reason for me to keep the room.”

  The clerk looked down at the two large suitcases. “Would you like for me to store Mr. Meredith’s luggage here until you need it?”

  “Actually, that sounds like a great idea,” I agreed. “Thank you.” Baggage claim check tucked into my purse, I headed back to the hospital. I wasn’t sure if the clerk was trying to be helpful or thought I was trying to steal the suitcases but either way, they were better off in the storage room than taking up space in my tiny hotel room.

  The next couple of days settled into a routine. I sat by Ross’s bed, reading or watching muted television while he slept. When he was awake, I’d try to interact with him, chatting and occasionally asking him to try to squeeze my hand with his left hand or move his foot as the doctor had directed me. The sagging on the left side of his face seemed to be improving somewhat. But he wasn’t able to speak.

  It was midmorning of the third day at the hospital and I’d just returned from my usual trip to the hotel to shower and change when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was Mark. “Hello, Mark. What can I do for you?” I asked.

  “Donna, when are you coming home? I need to see you.” His voice was querulous, as though I’d gone out of town for the sole purpose of annoying him.

  “I may be here for a while. I’m helping a friend,” I said. “What do you need to see me about?”

  “Well, I was hoping to do this in person, but here goes.” Suddenly he sounded unsure, almost shy. “Donna, I made a big mistake. I never should have left you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can only plead temporary insanity. Could you please find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  “What happened to Brittany?”

  “Brittany was a mistake. A big mistake. Can’t we just put this behind us and move on with our life together? It was a good life wasn’t it? Wasn’t it, Donna?”

  “I thought it was,” I said. “But now I’m not so sure.”

  “I know I’ve hurt you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Please, Donna, won’t you forgive me?”

  “I’ll give it some thought. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk,” I said.

  “Why don’t you come home now? Surely your friend can find someone else to help,” he said. “We can talk this through.”

  “Not now. I need some time. Goodbye, Mark.” I pressed the end button.

  Ross was looking at me. I could see the concern in his eyes.

  “My ex. I guess I told you about him at dinner the other night. Apparently, Costa Rica with Brittany wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

  Ross’s hand moved. I reached out and took it in mine. He squeezed. I could swear I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes now.

  ‘Yeah it is funny, in a tragic sort of way. Here he tore apart his family and threw away his job and it was all for a fantasy.” I shook my head. “Mark has always had a hard time facing reality. He was so excited going through the Lamaze classes when I was pregnant with Rachel, but at the actual birth he got so queasy, he had to wait outside. I don’t know how many get-rich-quick schemes I’ve had to veto over the years. Actually, I suspect his little fling with Brittany was an attempt to prove to himself that he wasn’t really getting older, maybe because our daughter is away at college now.”

  Ross squeezed my hand once again. Two nurses came in then to turn Ross in his bed, so I withdrew my hand and went out to get another cup of coffee.

  Early that afternoon, I got a call from my friend, Linda. Linda was married to Rick, Mark’s best friend, and the four of us had often spent time together. I hadn’t heard much from her since Mark and I split.

  “Donna, how are you?” she bubbled. “I hear that Mark is back in town. Have you seen him?”

  “No, I’m out of town at the moment. I heard from him yesterday,” I said.

  “Well, he was asking Rick about you. How you’re doing and if you are seeing anyone and things like that. Is there any chance of reconciliation, do you think?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Linda. How could I trust him?”

  “I’m sure he’s sorry for what he did. And what about Rachel? I’m sure she wants her parents to be together. Think of your future grandchildren. Everything would be much smoother and easier if their grandparents are together.”

  “So I should base this decision on the theoretical convenience of people who don’t actually exist yet?” I asked.

  “You know what I mean. You were such a happy couple. We’d all like to see you together again.”

  “I’ll think it over, Linda.”

  “Okay. Well I just wanted to say hi. I’ll let you go now. Bye-bye.”

  “Bye Linda.” There was one vote for getting back together. I guess I hadn’t really thought about our marriage affecting other people outside the family. I felt somewhat pressured to “do the right thing” and forgive Mark. I was a little resentful that I was feeling guilty for not immediately agreeing to reconcile, as though this split was somehow my fault. On the other hand, maybe that was just my overactive conscience talking.

  It would certainly be easier financially. If Mark got another job that paid as well as
his old one and we lived in the same house I wouldn’t have to scramble so hard to pay for Rachel’s college and the mortgage. Could I get past his betrayal?

  The doctor called me out into the hall that afternoon. “Mr. Meredith has made some progress, but we are hoping for more. We’ll be starting him on some therapy tomorrow, but in the meantime please encourage him to manipulate his left hand and to try talking. The longer he goes without talking, the less likely that he will regain his abilities.”

  I tried to work with Ross. He squeezed my hand with his left hand when I asked, and was even able to wiggle his toes a bit, but he could not seem to form a word. I could see the frustration in his eyes as he tried.

  “Okay, let’s take a break,” I suggested. “I’ll go down and get a bite to eat while you rest and we’ll try again later.”

  I was on my way back to Ross’s room when I got another call, this time from my daughter. “Hi honey, how are you?” I asked.

  “Hi Mom. I just talked to Dad.” Her voice was uncertain.

  “Oh yeah? What did he have to say?”

  “He said he wanted to get back together with you.”

  “And what do you think about that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Mom,” she cried. “And I feel bad that I don’t know. I should want my parents together, right? But at the same time I feel like he shouldn’t just get off the hook that easy, after what he did to us. I just don’t know how I feel. What are you going to do?”

  I felt a tear slide down my cheek. “I don’t know either, honey. But this isn’t something that you need to worry about right now. You need to concentrate on finals and your own life. Your dad and I will get this settled one way or another and it will be all right whatever we decide. You don’t need to carry this on your shoulders. Just leave it to me.”

  “Okay. I’ll try. Thanks, Mom.” I could hear the relief in her voice. “Oh, don’t forget the first tuition payment for my fall classes is due at the end of the month.”

  I sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I felt like shaking Mark for dragging Rachel into the middle of this when she should have been studying for finals. I walked into Ross’s room, grabbed a tissue from the box by the door and sat in the chair beside Ross’s bed. I wiped away the tears and blew my nose.

  “Daaa.” It was Ross.

  “Yes, it’s Donna. Ross, can you say my name?” I asked excitedly.

  “Daaaanaa.”

  “Yes, yes.” Suddenly there were happy tears flowing from my eyes. I laughed and leaned over to give Ross a kiss on the cheek. The door opened and a young woman walked in, dropping a backpack on a chair.

  “Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

  “Kristen!” Her curls were cut short now and she looked exhausted, but it was indisputably the girl from the graduation photo. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m Donna, a friend of your father’s. Ross, it’s Kristen!”

  Still eyeing me, she walked over to the bed. I backed away to give her room. I could see her shock at seeing her dad in a hospital bed with an IV line running into his arm and the sagging on one side of his face. She recovered quickly, and gave him a smile.

  “Hi Dad. I’m here. How are you?”

  “Krissss.”

  “Yeah, it’s really me.” Kristen took his hand. “I’ve been flying for days. I came directly from the airport. I probably don’t smell so good.”

  I could see him squeeze her hand. A nurse came in. “Mrs. Meredith, we need to turn Mr. Meredith now.”

  Kristen’s head snapped back. “Mrs. Meredith? There is some mistake. My mother died more than a year ago. There is no Mrs. Meredith!”

  The nurse looked confused.

  “I need to explain, Kristen,” I said. “Come with me to the visitor lounge while they make Ross comfortable, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Kristen said after I had explained how I came to be Mrs. Meredith. “My father isn’t the type to marry someone on a drunken spree. Show me the certificate.”

  “No, he’s just a man who was very lonely and wanted a companion. We just got carried away.” I took the marriage certificate out of my purse and handed it to her.

  “It sounds like you were there to scoop him up the minute he was vulnerable. Have you done this before? Are you some kind of professional gold digger?”

  “No. As it happens, I’m at a vulnerable point in my life too. Ross and I just happened to be there to comfort one another when we needed it. The wedding was a mistake, but I’m not sorry that I met your father. Now that you are here to be with him, I’ll get started on getting this marriage invalidated or annulled or whatever it is that needs to be done.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Kristen said. “How much of a settlement will it take to make you go away?”

  “I don’t want anything that belongs to Ross,” I said with whatever dignity I could muster under the circumstances. “Which reminds me, here are his wallet and his cell phone. A claim check for his suitcases in the storage room of the Turning Point Suites is in the wallet, and a change of clothes for him is in the cupboard in his hospital room. I pulled out one of my business cards and wrote my cell number on the back. “Please call me and let me know how Ross is progressing. I’ll be in touch once I know how to handle the legalities.” I stood and left the hospital. I waited until I was back in my hotel room to cry.

  The next day I found a local attorney and started on the annulment. Since we were both intoxicated at the time, there seemed to be adequate grounds. The attorney didn’t seem particularly surprised. Once the papers were drawn up, I stopped by the hospital to get Ross’s signature if possible. I could proceed without his signature, but this would speed everything up. Beside, I wanted to see how he was.

  I knocked on the door to the hospital room and stuck my head inside. Kristen was sitting in the chair beside Ross’s bed. “Come in,” she said softly.

  “Is he sleeping?” I whispered. “I brought by the annulment papers for him to sign if he is up to it. I’ll leave them with you so you can read through them first.” I handed her the folder and looked at Ross, sleeping peacefully. His color was good and his face was almost symmetrical again. “He looks better. How is he doing?”

  “Better.” Kristen stood and motioned for me to follow her outside into the hall. “He’s starting to talk a little. It is still a struggle, but his therapist says that he is making good progress and she expects almost a full recovery.”

  I felt my eyes tear up. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “Apparently I owe you an apology,” Kristen said. “I’ve talked with the nurses and they all have nothing but praise for the way you treated my father. I was wrong to assume that you were running a scam of some sort.”

  “Please don’t worry about it,” I said. “I probably would have thought the same thing under the circumstances.”

  “I just couldn’t imagine my dad with anyone except my mom,” Kristen said. “When they called you Mrs. Meredith it just felt like a slap in her face.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said.

  “I’m just glad that you were here to be with him until I could get here,” Kristen said. “When my mom died, he was there holding her hand until the very end. It almost killed him to lose her. He wanted her to try another round of treatment, but she didn’t want to go through that suffering again when it didn’t hold out much hope, and so he agreed to let her go on her own terms. He sold his business just so he could be free to be her caregiver at the end. It would have been wrong for him to be all alone in the hospital these last few days.”

  “Your father is a very special man,” I told her. “I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up those papers and file them. Take care of yourself.”

  That night I was packing when my cell phone rang. It was Kristen. “Donna, Dad had anot
her stroke and it doesn’t look good. Can you come?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.” Why? Ross was a wonderful man with a daughter who loved him. He was making progress. Why should he have another stroke?

  I found a tearful Kristen clutching her father’s hand. He had an oxygen tube in his nose and was very pale. A heart rate monitor beeped in the background. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” I held out my arms to Kristen and she came in for a hug, sobbing onto my shoulder. Then she turned back to her father.

  “Dad? Dad I can’t let you go. Do you have to go now?” she sobbed.

  “Krisss?” It was more of a sigh than a word.

  “I’m here Dad. Donna’s here too.”

  “Don…”

  I stepped to the other side of the bed and took Ross’s hand. “Hi there. Not feeling so well, huh?” I chattered inanely.

  Ross’s eyes focused on my face for a moment, but then seemed to look over my shoulder. “Cindy?” His voice was very weak. The beeps on the monitor started to slow.

  Kristen and I looked at each other. “Do you think he sees my mother?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, honey. Maybe.”

  “Cindy.” The voice was still weak, but instead of a question, it sounded like a greeting.

  “You be with Cindy, Ross,” I whispered.

  His face went even paler, and his breathing stopped.

  I stayed in town for a few more days to help Kristen get everything arranged. It was a big responsibility for a young woman. At least that is what I told myself but perhaps I stayed to avoid having to make the decision about my own life. Eventually I found myself on the flight home. What answer would I give Mark?

  I’d had a happy marriage, I told myself. It wasn’t perfect, but no marriage is. It would be better for Rachel to have her parents together, and it would certainly take some of the financial pressure off my shoulders. I had the opportunity to step right back into our marriage, to reunite our family.

  The flight attendant offered me a drink. As I reached for the cup, the ring on my finger caught the light. I’d forgotten about it. I slipped it off my finger and rolled it around in my hand. I thought about being married to Mark again as though nothing had changed.

  But I had changed. I tried to imagine Mark taking care of me in my final days of an illness, bathing and dressing and caring for me. I couldn’t see it. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me, in his way. It’s just that he wasn’t able to love me unselfishly; that kind of devotion just wasn’t in him.

  I was going to tell him no. I could forgive him, but I didn’t want to be married to him. Now that I knew what real love was, I wasn’t going to settle. I might never find that kind of love, but I was going to try. Ross and Cindy would have wanted it that way.

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  An excerpt from

  Last Flight from Flagstaff

  By Beth Carpenter

  Copyright Beth Carpenter 2012