Running Out of Rain

by Lori Leger

  J.D. scratched at his chin. “I suppose you’re right. Come on. Let’s go see if the lovely Marilee knows us today.”

  Bess watched as J.D. hesitated at the door long enough to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He knocked and waited for her invitation to come in.

  Bess would never forget the look of immediate recognition on Marilee’s face as she got her first sight of her husband.

  “J.D., you’re here!” The two of them met in the middle of the floor like long separated lovers.

  He cupped her face in both his hands. “Of course I am, ma femme. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She lifted one hand to his cheek. “How long has it been this time?”

  “Four weeks or so.” He pulled her hand from his face and placed a kiss in her palm, then planted a kiss firmly on her mouth.

  Bess watched the exchange, amazed at the intensity of her old friends’ feelings for one another. She turned to leave them alone, but stopped when Marilee called out to her.

  “Bess? Bessie, is that you?”

  Bess turned to face her. “It’s me, mon vieux. I hope you don’t mind me tagging along.”

  “Oh no, not at all. Come here, old friend!” She held up the spiral notebook. “I’ve seen how many times you’ve visited while I wasn’t myself. They’re all in here.”

  Bess approached then found herself wrapped in Marilee’s warm embrace. “I’ve missed our talks, Marilee.”

  “I know you have, but I’m here now. Let’s sit. Where’s our boy today, J.D.?”

  “He had to take Zach’s place at the store today, hon. I’ll call him to come by, if …” His voice trailed off.

  “If I’m myself long enough, you mean? It’s all right, honey. I’m just glad to have the two of you here.”

  They spent the next hour talking about Zach’s new family. Marilee’s face lit up when she heard John Michael and Cynthia were seeing each other.

  “Oh, I’m thrilled. Johnny’s been alone for too long. He’s a good man.”

  “Yes, he is. I believe he and Cynthia make a lovely couple.”

  J.D. gave a low rumble of laughter. “It’s almost like they’re teenagers again, honey. You should see them together.”

  “Tell them I’m hoping for a visit from the two of them. Oh, wait a minute.” She pulled a floral notebook from her desk and flipped to the last page. “They’ve come already. I remember now.” She turned to Bess and pointed to a small photo album Cathryn had put together for her of their visit with the twins. “I have pictures with her. She’s a beautiful young woman, and you’re right. They do make a lovely couple.”

  When J.D. excused himself to use the restroom, Marilee grabbed Bessie’s hands in her own. “Bess, can we speak candidly for a bit?”

  “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

  “The thought of leaving J.D. alone in this world breaks my heart, Bessie. I’ve been praying someone would come along to make this all easier for him.”

  Bess shook her head slowly. “He’s not alone, sweetie. He’s got Johnny and maybe Cynthia, as well as Zach and his beautiful little family. He’ll never be alone.”

  “It’s not the same as having someone, Bess. J.D. has always been a man who thrives on companionship. He needs someone to spend the long, lonely evenings with. I’d love it if you’d be that someone for him.”

  Bess shook her head. “I don’t want to hear this, Marilee. You’re still here.”

  “But not for much longer, old friend. I can feel it. You and Ham were always good friends to J.D. and me, Bess. Now that Ham’s gone, I’d love it if you and J.D. could find some happiness in the days you both have left.”

  “You make it sound as though J.D. would have an easy time forgetting you, Mari. Surely, you must know how much he cherishes you.”

  “I don’t want him to forget me, but to learn to live without me. I know he cherishes me. He always has, as much as I have him. But I’m not here for much longer, Bess, you must realize how rapidly this disease is progressing. I can see how well the two of you get along together.”

  Bessie’s heart constricted at the inevitability of losing her for good. “Oh Mari, don’t ask this of me.”

  “Please, Bessie, this is so important to me. Promise me you’ll find a way to convince him not to mourn me. Not to live out the rest of his life a lonely old man without someone around to make him live. I can’t bear leaving this world knowing he’d be alone. He’d stop living. Please, Bess. Give me some peace of mind. Tell me you’ll be there for him.”

  Bess held Marilee’s hands tight. “I can promise you this. If, at any time, J.D. needs me, I will be there for him.”

  Marilee’s shoulders drooped in sudden relief, her face instantly free of all signs of worry. “Oh, you can’t know, Bess. You can’t know how relieved I am. Sometimes the effort is too much—coming back to this place, knowing I’ll lose it again. Because sometimes when I do, I remember more than I want to.”

  Bess squeezed her friend’s hand, to let her know she understood.

  “Sometimes all I can remember is my sweet Jenna and the pain of losing her. I know because I write it all down, you see. And sometimes I remember leaving the time before, because some days, to me, it’s only happened a few seconds ago, even though it’s been days or weeks. When I’m about to leave, I see it on J.D.’s face. It’s always there, the heartbreak of having to lose me all over again.”

  Bess sniffed and wiped her eyes, her heart breaking for her old friend as she pulled her close for a hug. “Oh sweet, sweet Marilee, you’ve always been such a good friend.”

  Marilee pulled back and patted her friend’s hand. “No more than you have been to me, Bessie. I feel so strongly about this. I couldn’t trust just anyone to my J.D. I know that she-devil LaVyrle Fruge has already come by to check out the situation because she signed my book. I need someone to boot her butt to the curb if she goes sniffing around. The poor man would die of some kind of awful venereal disease if he spent too much time around the old floozy.”

  Bessie shook with laughter at Marilee’s on-the-mark description of LaVyrle. “Marilee, you’re still the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

  J.D. walked in on the two women as they were doubled over with laughter. “What are you two old hens cackling about?”

  Bessie rose from the sofa and smiled at him. “Nothing you need to know about. I’m going to find some coffee so you two can have some time together.”

  Marilee’s gaze followed Bess out of the room, the remnants of a smile still on her face. When they were alone she opened her journal and began to make some notes.

  He watched her for a moment. “What do you write in that book of yours?”

  She lifted her smiling face to his. “I’m leaving you a recipe, sweet man.”

  “I hope it’s something quick and easy. Johnny and I aren’t exactly what you call geniuses in the kitchen.”

  She waved him off. “No, no. It’s more of a-a guide. Yes, it’s a guide. And it’s not time for you to read it yet. This is for when I’m not here any longer.” She looked up. “It’s for when I’m not me anymore, John. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  He couldn’t do anything more than to nod. She scribbled a few more lines then looked up, a frown creasing her brow. “I’m afraid it’ll be soon, dear husband.”

  J.D. shook his head. “I don’t want to hear such foolishness, mon coeur—”

  She put a finger to his lips. “Stop, we both know my time is near. I can only pray that when it happens, it happens quickly, for your sake. Right now, while I still can, I want you to know how much I’ve adored being your wife all these years.”

  He kissed her gently on the lips. “It can’t be any more than I’ve enjoyed being your husband.”

  She gave him a bright smile. It started to fade. “My husband…” She returned to her journal, scribbled frantically for a minute, then paused, wrote another word or two until her pen drew a long, straight line before her hand came to rest.

  She blin
ked several times, and then looked up at him, her eyes wide with panic. “It’s … it’s … I …” Her gaze darted frantically around the room.

  He patted her hand, hoping to reassure her. “Shh, sweet lady. It’s all right. You’re completely safe here. Let me get someone to help you.”

  J.D. rose and went to the door to call for her nurse. He stepped aside as the woman went in to calm her patient. He sagged against the wall, overwhelmed by a heaviness of heart that left him feeling exhausted and filled with an unusually sharp sense of utter hopelessness. Even then he swore he could hear Marilee’s gentle chiding.

  Don’t give in to despair, old man. It’ll only send you to an early grave.

  He shook his head. He was way past the risk of an early grave, wasn’t he? Eyes closed, lips moving in silent prayer, the soft sound of a woman clearing her throat jarred his attention. He looked up, seeing Bess standing there, holding a cup of coffee. He wiped his eyes, somewhat ashamed he’d forgotten they’d come in together.

  “Has she left you again, J.D.?”

  All he could do was nod.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wiped his eyes. “It’s a cruel disease, Bess. But we had her for a little while, didn’t we?”

  She looked up through her tears and gave him the saddest of smiles. “Yes, we did.” She walked to him, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I have no words of comfort for you. All I can say is I’m here for you if you need to talk, mon vieil ami. My shoulders are strong, and I still have my hearing.”

  He gave her a sad smile before patting her hand gently. “We are old friends, aren’t we? And I appreciate the offer. It’s always less difficult with someone else around to talk to after one of these—episodes.”

  “Find yourself a therapy group, J.D. Believe me. I thought I was ready to handle it when Ham passed on. For months you watch them endure the suffering, trying to make it as comfortable as possible for them. Somehow, you fool yourself into believing it’ll be easier once they’re gone, right? You’ll be ready.” She blinked several times and cleared her throat. “It doesn’t seem real at first. The company leaves, and the children and grandchildren all go back to their own homes, their own busy lives. Then you’re left sitting alone in a big old house and it hits you, I mean really hits you hard. He’s gone. Nothing you can do will ever bring him back.” She shook her head. “Only others who’ve been through it can understand the pain, J.D. It’s a deep, bone-chilling sense of loss. Trust me on this.”

  He nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” He gave one last look at the room housing his wife. She’d calmed relatively quickly compared to some previous incidents. Small blessings, he supposed.

  Well hell … he’d take ‘em wherever he could get ‘em.

  J.D. entered the room full of strangers at the Community center. He looked around, surprised at the varied ages of the people gathered there.

  “Quite a shock to see so many younger people at a group like this, isn’t it?”

  He turned at the deep, bass of the male voice, recognized a large man he’d seen once or twice at the facility where Marilee resided.

  J.D. gave him a brusque nod. “I was thinking I’d better ask someone if I’m at the right place. This is the Alzheimer’s Support Group, right?”

  The man grinned, his big white teeth glowing from skin as dark as Marilee’s old fashioned fudge, his skin wrinkled from years of living. He leaned forward, lowering his voice a decibel or two. “It looks like you and I are here to represent the seniors in the room.”

  J.D. chuckled and offered his hand. “I think you’re right.” After introductions, they each got a cup of coffee and found a seat near the front of the room.

  By the end of the hour long meeting, J.D. had heard several different versions of the same story. The heartbreak of seeing loved ones—spouses, parents, siblings, friends, and even adult children—slowly retreat to a place beyond recognition and reason. Never much on public speaking, J.D. somehow felt comfortable enough to stand and tell an abbreviated version of how it felt to be losing his beloved wife to the disease. He learned Alzheimer’s had no respect for barriers, be it genders, race, religions, or even age. One woman his age was losing her fifty-seven year old daughter to the disease.

  J.D. walked away from his first meeting with an entirely new appreciation for “group therapy” and feeling grateful to an old friend for the suggestion. Once Johnny dropped him off at his house, he took the opportunity to call her with the news.

  Bess settled down in her overstuffed reading chair with the only afternoon cup of coffee she allowed herself. She took one leisurely sip before setting the cup down to answer her phone.

  “Bess, this is J.D. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “No, not at all. Is everything all right with Marilee?”

  “As far as I know, it is. I’m calling to thank you for suggesting the Alzheimer’s group. I attended my first meeting today and it was every bit as much help as you said it would be. I never realized there were so many people out there going through the same things I am.”

  “Eye-opening, was it?”

  “Absolutely. The idea I could actually take comfort from hearing other people’s experiences … I learned a lot about myself, as well as this awful disease. Why, there was a woman our age at the meeting whose daughter has Alzheimer’s. The poor thing started showing symptoms at fifty-three years old and it’s advanced rapidly.”

  Bess’s heart clenched at J.D.’s comment. “How awful for her. It’s horrible enough to be struck down after a long, full life, but to have those terrifying symptoms when you’re so young.”

  “I know. It’s heartbreaking.” He paused, and when he spoke again his tone took on a lighter note. “I even got a business card with the name of a good eye surgeon. The guy who gave it to me said the cataract surgery is a breeze and he regretted waiting so long to have it.”

  Bess stared at the phone in her hand and rolled her eyes before putting it up to her mouth again. “Haven’t I been telling you this all along?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I thought your feathers might get a little ruffled.”

  She clucked her tongue. “Hmph … men! You won’t believe anything until you hear it from someone who is probably every bit as hard headed as you are. Stubborn old goats.”

  His laughter rang out over the phone. “I guess us stubborn old goats will eventually seek each other out no matter where we are. I’ll talk to you later, Bess.”

  “Goodbye, J.D.” Bess gave her head a slow shake as she hit the end call button on her cordless phone. She couldn’t help but smile at the old coot’s news. No doubt he’d see a doctor now and have the surgery necessary to get his driving privileges back.

  Her smile faded suddenly. The last few times she’d needed to run errands, she’d called him to see if he wanted to come along for the ride. He’d jumped at the chance, saying how much he hated depending on his son to drive him everywhere since he had other things to do. Bess couldn’t deny it had been nice to have a little male companionship again.

  It’s funny how she’d never enjoyed driving until Ham had grown so ill. Once she’d been forced to take over the wheel, she discovered how much she enjoyed it. Thinking back on it, she believed it gave her a slight advantage—the tiniest bit of control over a totally uncontrollable situation. The down side, of course, was the cost to her husband. Even as she had begun to feel more in control, poor Ham had started to lose all hope.

  She supposed losing the ability to drive made men feel emasculated in some way. Lord knows their egos couldn’t handle stopping for directions if they were behind the wheel. She’d known her husband to waste a half a tank of gas rather than admit to being lost on their last road trip before his diagnosis. He’d been so stubborn.

  She had to wonder how it would affect J.D. once they reinstated his license. Would he still want to accompany her if she called him? Or maybe he’d call her asking if she wanted to go along for
the ride. They could always take turns driving, assuming he’d want to spend more time with her.

  She shook herself from her thoughts and remembered Marilee’s request. As usual, it overwhelmed her with feelings of guilt. The poor woman was still around, and if a miracle cure suddenly appeared and Bess had her way, Marilee would be the first in line. Prompted by the thought, she closed her eyes and whispered a prayer for her old friend. She wiped at the trace of tears. They always appeared when she thought of Marilee and her illness.

  “Your will be done, Lord. Your will be done.” She followed with a quick sign of the cross, something she’d picked up as a small child after seeing her paternal grandmother do the same.

  It was strange how memories from her childhood stood out vividly as she got older. She could remember the first time she’d crossed herself in front of her mother, a staunch Baptist. She couldn’t have been more than four years old. The simple act had annoyed her mama to no end, especially since her mother had never gotten along with her motherin-law. But Bess had adored her Grandma Guidry, even if her mother hadn’t.

  She’d always looked at it as a sign of respect, both to her “Gram” as well as the God who probably didn’t give two hoots about religious differences. She figured the good Lord would let anyone into heaven if they acted right and treated others kindly.

  Besides, Marilee and J.D. were Catholics, and she knew they’d appreciate any extra help she could give them.

  She caught her reflection in a small stand mirror she kept on the table next to her reading lamp. An old woman stared back at her, one she barely recognized.

  She passed her hand through hair every bit as snow white as her father’s had been when he’d been an old man. “Who’s the old person now, huh, Bess?” Her fingers slid lightly over a face well-worn with laugh lines, as well as wrinkles in other places.

  “Hmph. Serves you right for even thinking twice about another woman’s husband, old lady.” But what if said woman begged you to? She turned away from the mirror, suspecting it wouldn’t make much of a difference to her conscience. She couldn’t help but wonder if the good Lord had any protocol set up for situations such as this.