With the paper in hand, she hurried to their regular pharmacy only to get more bad news.
“Sorry, Kathy. We don’t have the liquid oral morphine on hand,” the pharmacist apologized. “I’ve called around for you and Dillons has it. If you take the prescription there, they should have you set in no time.”
But that wasn’t the way it went at all. Kathy presented the prescription only to have the woman look at her as if she were a drug dealer trying to pull a fast one.
“Who are you to the person this medication is intended?”
“I’m his daughter. My father is dying from cancer.”
“I see.”
But it clearly sounded as though the woman didn’t see. “I’ll need your identification—something with a picture.”
Kathy pulled out her driver’s license and handed it to the woman. She looked at the card, then at Kathy and back at the card. Finally she asked, “Do you have anything else?”
“Good grief. My father is dying. I just want to get him some medication to ease his pain. Didn’t you talk to Brad at Wilcox’s? He said he called over here to let you know what was happening. He knows me. I’ve been dealing with him ever since Dad got sick.”
The woman looked at her blankly. Clearly she was unmoved by Kathy’s plea. “Do you have any other form of identification?”
“Nothing else with a photo. I have a credit card and insurance card. Oh, and I have a checkbook.” Kathy dumped the contents of her purse on the counter. “I have a hairbrush; maybe you could do DNA testing.” Her sarcasm was not winning any friends.
“Look, we have our rules. I don’t know you,” the woman said in her authoritative manner. “For all I know, you’ve set this entire thing up to get the drugs for yourself.”
Kathy suddenly wondered if this was how Sunny felt. Kathy hadn’t even given her sister a chance. She’d just presumed Sunny would be a risk where the morphine was concerned. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. All she wanted was to get her father some medicine to cut the pain. Tears spilled from her eyes as she gathered the things from her purse.
“Call the doctor’s office. I’ve spent a good portion of the last year there. I was just there today. They know me, even if you don’t. I’m going to sit over here in your waiting area.”
She was glad that the woman said nothing further. It seemed to take forever before the pharmacist called her name. He was a tall older man with great compassion in his expression.
“I’m sorry for the difficulty in getting this filled,” he began. “We have to be careful.”
“That’s fine,” Kathy said. “Just tell me what I have to do so that I can get back to Dad. He doesn’t have much time, and I’ve wasted enough of it here.”
The man gave her instructions on the dosage and use. Kathy quickly signed the paper work and paid for the medicine. She was well on her way home when she broke down. Why did it have to be so hard?
“They made me feel like a criminal—and I haven’t done anything but come to get medicine for my father.”
She thought again of Sunny. That must have been how I made her feel. I stood there with my accusing attitude and had no reason to believe it would have been a problem. Just because she had a problem in the past doesn’t mean she has one now. She’s done nothing to make me suspicious. I was unfair.
Kathy drove well over the speed limit all the way home. The two-lane road to Slocum wasn’t the best in the world, but Kathy didn’t care. She thought only of getting the morphine to Dad so that he could rest peacefully in his final days—hours.
“Lord, I was wrong. I should never have made Sunny feel that way. I had no reason to act like I did. I was suspicious based solely on the past. Just like I don’t want to trust her because of the past. I need to change my heart, Lord, but I don’t know how.”
She drove down the gravel road to the farm, slowing only enough to keep the car under control. The house was soon in sight and Kathy eased off the gas with a sense of accomplishment. She sighed. She would apologize to Sunny and let her know how wrong she’d been, just as soon as she gave Dad his medicine.
Kathy hurried into the house and made her way to the den. She heard Sunny crying, but the meaning didn’t register until she came into the den. Sunny was sitting with her head on Dad’s chest, sobbing.
“Sunny?” she asked apprehensively. “Are you all right?”
Her sister straightened and wiped at her tears. “Kathy. Oh, Kathy. He’s gone.”
“What? Are you sure?” Kathy tossed her things aside and hurried to the bed. She reached for Dad’s hand and felt for a pulse. Her own heart was racing like a trip-hammer.
“He stopped breathing about ten minutes ago. I waited, thinking he would take another breath, but he didn’t. I called hospice and they said they’d send an ambulance and the sheriff.”
Kathy collapsed into a chair. She couldn’t believe Dad had died without her being at his side. She hated to admit it, but she felt jealous that Sunny got to share his last moments.
She waited for her tears to come, but they didn’t. She was cried out. She’d spent the last few months mourning her father’s dying. Perhaps there was nothing left to offer his death.
FIFTEEN
NEARLY EVERYONE IN SLOCUM, KANSAS, turned out for the funeral of Gary Halbert. The man had been a friend to everyone, and no one could remember him ever having an enemy. Dad had died on the second of July, but Kathy had delayed the funeral until the seventh, hoping Aunt Glynnis could attend. Glynnis had taken a rather bad fall in her garden and the result was a twisted back that left her in a great deal of pain. Uncle Will said it wasn’t possible for her to make the trip, and while Kathy understood, she was still very disappointed. She had hoped to lean on Glynnis for support and understanding, but instead, the only family member present was Sunshine.
Things at the house had been strangely quiet. Sunny seemed to have withdrawn into her own little world, and Kathy was busy with telephone calls and final preparations for the funeral. She could hardly believe that an era of her life had come to an end. Dad was really gone. Everything from this point on would change.
As she stood at the graveside listening to the pastor’s final prayer, Kathy couldn’t help but steal a glance at her sister. Sunny stood with her head respectfully bent and eyes closed. She had dressed in a dark blue suit and white blouse and looked rather out of place. Others had worn their Sunday best for the event, but they seemed lackluster and almost shoddy compared to Sunny. There was just something about her that made her different. Maybe it was the cut of her clothes or the brand. It could be the way she styled her hair and wore her makeup. Whatever it was, it emphasized the fact that she didn’t belong in this group.
Kathy hadn’t given her own dark plum pantsuit much thought. She had fully intended to wear a lightweight dress to the funeral but, noting a strong wind that morning, changed her mind. Now as the hour approached noon, she was getting hot and wished only to put an end to the ordeal.
There’s still the funeral dinner at the church to get through, she remembered. People are going to expect me to be there for them—to assure them that all is fine and that they did enough.
Funny how funerals were in honor of the dead, but they were really about making sure the living felt vindicated of any negligence of which they might be guilty, or comforted because of the personal loss. Even Kathy found herself mentally calculating whether she’d done enough—said the right things—bought the proper flowers. She lowered her head as Pastor Butler ended his prayer.
“Go now with this family, Lord. Go also with the friends who have come here today. Ease their sorrow and let them reflect on the good times and blessings shared with them by our departed friend Gary. Amen.”
The crowd echoed the amen and waited momentarily, as if to be dismissed. The pastor came and took hold of Kathy’s hand. “We’ll certainly miss your father.”
“Yes, we will,” she agreed. “Thank you for a lovely service. I know he would have been pleased.”
“Thank you.” Sunny seemed just as uncomfortable as the pastor. It was one of those moments that reminded Kathy of two people meeting for a blind date. Neither one was quite sure of what the other expected or needed. The thought made her smile, because the pastor was nearly seventy and married, and Sunny looked like she might bolt for home any minute.
“That was a real nice service,” Renea Stover said, coming to shake the pastor’s hand and offer Kathy her condolences. “This town just won’t be the same without you and your family.”
“It will be hard for me as well,” Kathy said. “I’ve never lived anywhere else, so Colorado Springs will be something completely different.”
“When do you go?”
“Well, that depends,” Kathy began. “I had fully expected to be out of here by the end of summer, but no one has bought the place yet. The Realtor said there was a bit of interest, but so far nothing has developed.”
“Pity. It’s such a nice place.”
“I know. I’ve always loved it here, but I’m not equipped to farm it myself.”
Renea eyed Sunny with contempt. “Will she go now?”
Kathy was glad that the pastor was still talking to Sunny. “Dad asked her to stay with me at least until the sale of the farm.”
Renea shook her head. “He didn’t take your feelings into consideration. I suppose it was the sickness.” She smoothed her black dress and leaned toward Kathy. “You know, given that his mind probably wasn’t what it should have been there at the end, you wouldn’t have to honor his request. No one would blame you if you sent her packing right now.”
“I’d blame myself,” Kathy replied, trying not to sound too harsh. “The Bible says blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. I’d rather be kind to my sister and honor my father’s wishes than demand my own way and show no mercy.”
Renea patted her arm. “That always was like you. Just give, give, give. Never with any motive.”
But Kathy knew Mrs. Stover was wrong. She had motives like everyone else. Over the years Kathy hadn’t realized it, but she was coming to understand them now. Funny how it should be Sunshine who helped her to see the truth.
But seeing the truth doesn’t mean I know what to do with myself or my thoughts. Kathy grimaced. Seeing the truth was just the beginning.
Kathy soon found herself surrounded by people. She recognized everyone. Most were longtime friends of her parents, some coming from as far away as Salina to pay their last respects and remember him.
“You look like you could use a nap,” Sylvia said as the bulk of the crowd eventually moved away.
“I’d love that,” Kathy admitted. “I’d like to sleep for about a week, but there’s too much to do.”
“Well, you know I’m at your disposal. If you need help with the house, just holler.”
Kathy looked around to see who else might overhear her. Satisfied that they could talk without any eavesdroppers, she continued. “This might sound strange, but I realized the day after Dad died that I felt this tremendous sense of relief. Like I could finally relax and let down now that he was gone. Does that sound awful?”
“Not at all.” Sylvia’s sympathetic smile was reassuring. “Kathy, you’re worn out. You’ve sacrificed the past dozen years for your parents—far more than most adult children are called to give at your age. You’ve sacrificed having a family and life of your own. You’ve watched first your mother and now your father deal with ravaging illnesses. Of course you’re relieved. Don’t feel guilty about that.”
Kathy lowered her voice even more. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you, but I called Kyle.”
“You did?” Sylvia gave a chuckle. “Well, it’s about time.”
“He was taking off for England, or I’m pretty sure he would have been here.” Kathy raised her gaze to meet Sylvia’s. “It was like we’d never been apart. We talked so easily.”
“You never should have been apart. I’m glad that at least this part of your life can be altered and corrected.”
Kathy frowned. “I know most people didn’t understand me, but I always felt you did.”
Sylvia shifted her purse and crossed her arms. “I did to a point. But really, there’s no use rehashing the past. What I want to know is what is the future going to look like?”
“I’m hoping it will look like a wedding in Colorado Springs,” Kathy said rather boldly. It wasn’t like her to make such predictions, but Kyle’s sweet spirit and obvious desire to pick up where they left off made her hopeful.
“You’d better give me plenty of warning. I’ll need time to warn Tony. Better make it a winter wedding too, so we can have things wrapped up enough on the farm to leave for a few days.”
“Anything else?” Kathy teased.
Sylvia grinned. “If I think of it, I’ll call you immediately. Tony has already arranged for us to have one of those unlimited long-distance plans. He very sweetly told me that with you moving to another state, he knew it would be hard on me.”
Kathy squeezed her hand. “I know you’re right and that things will change, but I’ll never stop loving you like a sister. You were always there for me.”
“And I always will be,” Sylvia promised.
A few more townspeople made their way to Kathy and offered their condolences. Most were older folks who had known her mother and father on a first-name basis. Kathy knew them as Mr. This and Mrs. That. She had been raised to show the utmost respect, and even now, even as an adult on equal footing, she couldn’t bring herself to call them by their first names.
Kathy was saying some final good-byes when she caught sight of her sister. Sunny stood off to one side of the highly polished oak casket. She seemed uncertain of what she should or shouldn’t do, so she did nothing but stand there, twisting her hands and looking at the ground. Kathy noted that hardly anyone was stopping to speak to her.
“Excuse me,” Kathy said, pulling away from the collection of people.
She walked to where Sunny stood. “I think Dad would have been pleased, don’t you?”
Sunny looked up rather surprised. “I . . . uh . . . yes. Yes, I think he would have been very pleased.”
“I saw you over here by yourself and thought maybe we should head for the church dinner.”
“They hate me,” Sunny said, meeting Kathy’s gaze. “They hate me and blame me for Dad’s cancer and Mom’s heart attack. They blame me for keeping you from getting married like Sylvia—married with a bunch of kids.”
“Now’s not the time, Sunny. We can talk about all of that later. Just be brave and deal with the situation. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but this day is about honoring Dad’s memory. Let them think what they will. It doesn’t change the truth.”
“I know,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “That’s what bothers me the most.”
For Sunny, her father’s funeral had been harder than any other funeral. She had buried Randy and baby Gary in the midst of tragedy, and the shock of the time had kept her from feeling anything too deeply or keenly. Each time the feelings had returned weeks later and caused severe depression, whereas this time the sorrow and depression were her staunch companions.
Now three days after the funeral, Sunny felt the stupor begin to lift just a bit. The farm still hadn’t sold, but Kathy had decided to move as soon as possible. As she pointed out to Sunny, she wasn’t able to even earn money in Slocum to pay the mortgage. At least in Colorado Springs she could get a job and try to pay the bills with what she earned.
Sunny knew Kathy was worried, however. She would never talk about what the farm was worth or how much the mortgage amounted to, but Sunny knew it had to be quite a bit.
Kathy seemed to bear it all with such strength. Sunny had thought about telling Kathy that she was leaving. There were things Sunny needed to take care of, but she’d made a promise to their dad that she would stay. He had hoped Sunny would help Kath
y bear the load, and Sunny was willing to try. She wasn’t so sure about Kathy’s willingness, however. Sunny wondered if her sister resented the promise they’d made Dad. Would she have shown Sunny the door if their father hadn’t insisted on them promising to get along?
Returning to the house after taking an early morning walk, Sunny was surprised to hear a commotion coming from upstairs. She made her way up and found Kathy already at work in their mother and father’s room.
“Good morning,” Sunny announced.
“Morning,” Kathy said from where she knelt in front of a plastic tub. “I thought I’d better get to sorting through this stuff. The auction people will be coming to assess everything in a few days.”
“Can I help?” Sunny didn’t want to start the day off by irritating Kathy, but she felt rather useless.
Kathy looked around and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you to do. We need to organize things into groups. Clothes with clothes, knickknacks with knickknacks, books with books. Like that.”
“Well, I can figure out what goes together.” Sunny walked to the dresser and picked up a framed photo of their parents on their wedding day. “They looked so young—so hopeful.” She couldn’t keep the regret from her voice.
“We all had our hopes,” Kathy said simply.
“You blame me for Kyle and your broken engagement, don’t you?”
Kathy seemed taken aback. She quickly turned her attention to a box of books. “I don’t think I want to talk about that with you.”
“Why?” Sunny didn’t want to make things worse, but she felt almost driven to ask.
Kathy stiffened. “I’m trying hard to put the past behind us. I’m willing to try to sweep it aside, but I can’t do it by wallowing in the ugliness of the past.”
“There’s a difference between dealing with the past and pretending it never happened,” Sunny said. “I had to learn that one for myself. You can ignore the past—hide it away— and never have dealt with the issues at hand. It then becomes like a cut that’s gotten infected. It might heal on the outside, but down deep it’s still festering.”
Where My Heart Belongs Page 15
