Loving Neil

by Ronald Bagliere

He stopped cutting and looked up. “Yeah, why?”

  “You haven’t acted like yourself lately,” she said.

  “And how exactly am I supposed to act?” he replied, giving her one of his patented raised brows.

  She looked up. “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t,” he said, returning to slicing his steak.

  She frowned. “You haven’t been eating very good and you’ve been sleeping late. It’s not like you.”

  He stabbed a piece of meat, dragged it through a puddle of barbeque sauce, and put it in his mouth. He swallowed and said, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

  “Hmm,” she said.

  He shot her a challenging glance. “I’m pushing eighty. I’m slowing down. I thought this was supposed to be a night out. Not an inquisition.”

  Janet bit back her growing frustration and forced a smile. “I’m just concerned. When did you last see your doctor?”

  “A while back. I don’t remember. There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just old age.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back. “So, what’s up for the weekend? You never said this morning.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Good, I was thinking of going down to the bookstore tomorrow and having a cup of coffee with my lady friend and maybe lunch afterwards,” he said.

  Janet took her fork back up. “So how is she these days?”

  “She’s fine,” he said. “And don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m keeping something from you. I’m not,” he said sitting back, knife and fork in hand. He stabbed a French fry, and as he put it to his mouth, stopped and winced.

  Janet looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Indigestion. Been a pain in the ass lately.” He took a deep breath and sipped a drink of water.

  “That’s more than heartburn, and you know it. You need see a doctor.”

  “I’ll look into it?” he said, returning to his fries.

  “Any other marching orders?”

  The waiter came around and checked on them. After the man left, Janet said, “I’m not blind, you know.”

  He sighed and looked out through the window beside them. As he did so, Janet sensed a looming dread fall between them. She braced herself, reached over and tapped his arm. “Dad?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he muttered.

  “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  Clearing his throat, he held her in a tragic gaze. Her heart stopped as his eyes dampened. As he wiped them with his napkin, she saw him swallow hard. “I don’t know how–”

  “How–what?” she said.

  He looked back out the window. “How to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  He sat with that for a minute. Finally, he said, “A year ago, I found blood in my stool so I went to have it checked out. Routine stuff.” He stiffened his jaw and took a deep breath. “Well, as it turns out, it’s not so routine. I found out four months ago I have colon cancer.”

  The words hung over Janet like a noose. He looked down at his plate and pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I knew I had to tell you. I just couldn’t figure out how to do it.” He picked his water glass up, reached into his blazer pocket, and pulled out a small bottle of pills. He popped one in his mouth and downed it with a sip. When he noticed her looking at him, he said, “Something to ease the pain. Lately they’re not doing jack shit, though.”

  “What are they doing about it?” she said, trying to wrap her mind around his confession.

  “They are not going to do anything. I’ve decided to let things take their natural course. Chemo and radiation aren’t anything I’m interested in.”

  Her mind cried out. No, no, you can’t do this to me. You can’t leave me. Not now. I need you. Oh, please, please. She drew breath, fighting for air. “So, you’re just giving up?”

  He reached across the table and took her hand. His fingers felt cold and scaled. “Skeeter, look at me. I don’t want to go through that kind of hell. Not now. The thing that bothers me most, though, is leaving you.” He winced, and his face hardened. “Yes, I’m scared, but I’ve had a good life. I’ve been given a second chance, and the thing is; I’m okay with it.

  “You’ve been the one thing these past years that’s brought happiness into my life. There’s not a moment that goes by I don’t think about how I almost blew it. You gave me peace. And now I’m going to give you something back.”

  Her eyes flooded and her throat felt as if it might close up at any minute as he sipped his water. “You probably don’t remember, and maybe you do, but just before you two got married, I stopped over and took your husband golfing. Turned out he was awful at it, but it wasn’t the reason I took him.”

  She wiped her face. “I remember.” She closed her eyes fighting to control herself before she dissolved into a puddle of tears. “I was so scared that day. I thought we were done. He was so distant and unreachable, and it was all my fault.”

  The waiter came to their table, and her father shooed him off. “Yes, I know about your finding the letters. He was upset about it, but not so much at you, as himself. Everything was coming into question for him about the marriage. He still loved his departed wife and he was worried he wasn’t doing the right thing by you.”

  Her father paused for another sip of water, set his glass down and continued, “But the thing that really concerned him were the years between you. He told me, ‘someday, Will, I’m gonna be gone. What seems so far away right now to her is going to suddenly come, and then what? I worry about that. I don’t want her to be all alone.’ ”

  “That’s when I knew he was the right one for you, and I told him so. That, that kind of love doesn’t come along every day. Then I told him about you and how I almost lost you because of my foolish pride and hurt over being cheated on by your mother. Said to him; ‘Don’t throw away how you feel about her Neil ‘cause of something you can’t predict.’ ”

  She bit her lip as her father’s face blurred in front of her. Her lips trembled as she teetered on the brink of falling apart. Her father squeezed her hand and pulled her back.

  “Janet, I want you to listen to me,” he said. His voice strengthened. “I know this is hard, but Neil and I are getting up there, me especially.” He paused as if collecting his thoughts and went on. “He’s twenty years older than you and that’s the chance you took when you married him. Now, unfortunately, you have to deal with it. But ask yourself this. Was it worth it? I think so.

  “Now I have to say something I don’t want to, but have to, because you need to hear it. Look at me.” He waited for her attention. “I’ve been here with you and Neil long enough to know what’s coming. You’re a strong woman, Lord knows you are, but there’s going to come a time very soon when I think you’re going to have to make a decision, and you know what I’m talking about. He’s a shell of who he once was right now, and it’s only going to get worse.”

  He stopped speaking, but his words rang in her ears. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. “I know.”

  “Can you do it?”

  She wiped her face again. “I don’t know.”

  He looked down and let go of her hand. “It’s okay.” He got up, went around the table, and tapped her shoulder. She turned her face up at him, saw his kind and adoring smile and stood up and melted into his arms. The background music of Billy Joel continued to play. People continued their conversations around their dinner tables. Her world had just gotten smaller.

  27

  Ever since her father told her about his cancer, Janet lived in fear of the day that it would take him away from her. Her nights were restless, and she woke often before dawn to check on him and Neil. Her husband rarely spoke now, and his moods were in a constant state of flux between gentle peacefulness and sudden agitation. William handled Neil when he got excitable. For some reason, he was able to settle him down.

  In the mean time, Brad and Mega
n’s marriage continued to deteriorate. Megan’s son, Kyle, and his girlfriend, Debbie, had gotten their own place, leaving Megan and Brad alone. The battles between Neil’s daughter and son-in-law were getting ferocious. Many times Megan had come and stayed the weekend at the Heights. She said she wanted to be near her father. That was only part of it, though, and Janet knew it. She listened and offered support as much as she could, but she had her needs as well. For those, Janet turned to Neil’s son, Trevor.

  They spoke often by phone, and the friendship between them flourished. Trevor wanted to know everything about the lost years and of his sister’s doings. She did her best to tell him all she knew except for Megan’s wars with Brad. That territory was best left alone. Their last conversation, a week ago, ended with her fighting tears. Whether Trevor sensed them or not she didn’t know, but it wasn’t long after that, that he sent her an email telling her he was thinking of scheduling a trip to the states.

  Her other main support came from her brother, Craig. Although, they didn’t see each other often due to distance and busy schedules, he made a point of checking in with her every other day, and he, too, planned to come west for a visit. William was excited. He hadn’t seen Craig in over a year and he seemed to grow more robust as his visit drew nearer. In fact, her father seemed stronger than ever. Maybe the doctors were wrong!

  Janet finished the morning dishes, and after peeking in on Neil and her father, who were watching TV in the Great Room, she retreated to her studio to check email and to work on a submission for the Oregonian. Her Ansel award had brought a deluge of offers, most of which, she politely declined. She needed to be home. But the Oregonian project about people who populated the small havens and towns tracking along the interior corridor of the state was one she felt compelled to do.

  She woke the computer and opened her email program. A message from Nate popped up. She opened it and read about his latest exploits. He had been transferred from Iraq to Germany, not all that far from his half-brother Trevor whom he went to see last week. Nate also said he had a new girlfriend–nothing serious yet. Her name was Tracy, and she was a supply sergeant on base.

  Janet smiled. It was good to hear Nate was happy and doing well, and his being near Trevor made her feel good. She would not spoil his upbeat mood with the deteriorating events back home. She shot him off a quick note, telling him to send pictures so she could share with his father.

  Janet minimized the screen page and brought her photo-editing program up. After she loaded a shot of Neil and her on the beach, she went to work. She had staged it on a blustery day when the surf was up. A thick, gray mat of fog climbed over the bluffs. As she zoomed in on a section of it, she heard a thud in the other room.

  She bolted upright and ran out into the hall. When she came around the corner, her breath caught in her throat. Her father lay splayed across the floor as Cleo started barking. Neil sat watching TV, his gaze unwavering from the screen.

  “Dad!” she cried. She dropped to her knees. Turned him over. His eyes were rolled back, his mouth agape. “Dad, please, no!” Suddenly, the world spun, and she sat in a confused daze. Then something clicked and she sprang to her feet. Ran for her purse. The cell phone wasn’t there. I left it where? The night table! She ran to the bedroom, grabbed it and raced back to her father’s side. Her hand shook as she punched in 911 and waited for an answer.

  Cleo nuzzled her side. “No Cleo. Go!” She pointed toward the other side of the room as the operator came on. “2330 Orchard Heights Road … My father collapsed. He’s not breathing,” she said. “No … eighty … Yes … Yes … No, I’ve never done it before … Okay … okay … say that again.”

  She set the phone on the floor. Bent over and tilted back her father’s head, pinched his nose, pressed her lips over his and blew. Over and over and over, she repeated it and with each attempt, the reality that he had slipped beyond her reach solidified in her brain. No, no, it’s too soon, she pleaded with the universe and sat up, breathless. She beat on his chest. Daddy, please, breathe, damn it!

  But he didn’t breathe and she collapsed and cried out. Her father was gone. Neil still sat in his chair, watching TV, Cleo lay four feet away, his deep brown eyes staring at her. The TV spat out another question for the game show contestant. The 911 attendant’s voice continued to mutter out from the cell phone.

  Two weeks later, Janet sat on a wooden folding chair, staring at the long, mission oak table populated with pictures of her father and other memories. A small, gray pyramid urn made of polished marble sat center stage within the photos. The days that had passed since her father died had been a blur, and she felt more alone than she’d ever remembered feeling before. She folded her hands in her lap as the rail-thin funeral director read the liturgy in the stark funeral parlor room. The man’s tenor voice fell as a whisper in her ear, and the small company of family and friends sitting around her were a nebulous shadow. Even Nate felt far away, though he sat beside her.

  She closed her eyes, felt Neil’s shifting body move back and forth, brushing her arm. Every inch of her body ached for his arms around her, and her heart cried for his comforting voice. If only you could be present for me just this one day! But she knew it wouldn’t happen today, or the next. All she had of him now were fleeting glimpses of a smile–a sudden recognition for a moment then he’d be gone.

  She existed off these moments day to day now. Her father’s endearing and unflappable presence was gone. What was she going to do? All doors felt shut and locked, and the growing hole inside her threatened to consume her. Even tears would not come, and if they did, could she ever stop crying once they started?

  That evening, Janet snuck out of the house with her father’s urn. It sat in the car with her as she drove toward the coast. She eyed the stone container her father lived in now off and on as farms and wooded lands crept past the car. She made such trips in the past when life ganged up on her, but this time it felt different. There would be no answers waiting for her on the beach, only questions.

  She merged onto the coastal highway, her thoughts focused on the task ahead. Whether her brother, Craig, would approve of what she was about to do, she didn’t know, but it felt right. In a way, it seemed fitting that her father should be cast to the wind. He was never a man to sit idle, and the turbulent currents blowing off the north Pacific were seldom at leisure. Her eyes drifted toward the gray water peeking through the rangy cypress and Douglas fir. The trees had long laid claim to this mile of highway, and they stretched out to the tumbled rocks battling the ocean’s relentless assault.

  Suddenly, she found herself pulling over onto the shoulder of the road and sat there for some time with the urn in her lap, thinking about all that had happened between her and her father during her life.

  I’m glad we ended this way, Dad. Most of our lives we were at odds with each other. I’m sorry you had to be saddled with the awful secret my mother put on you. Yet, if she hadn’t of been unfaithful, I wouldn’t be here.

  I don’t really know why I stopped here. I just felt like I had to talk to you one last time before I let you go. To let you know how happy I am we had these last years together.

  I’ll try to remember your advice. I know Neil’s gone from me, but I also know somewhere deep inside, there’s a part of him that loves me. And if I can’t take care of him, then I’ll have to break the promise I made. I just can’t do it right now. I can’t lose everything all at once.

  She ran her fingers over the urn and set it beside her. She pulled the car back out onto the highway, and a half hour later, stood before her grotto with the urn in her hand. It was low tide, and the waves were swooshing in. A swirling wind whipped her hair about her face as she removed the urn’s lid. At length, she turned her gaze up at the deep blue dome of sky. I’m really an orphan now.

  “Time to run free, Dad,” she whispered and tipped the urn slowly, allowing the ashes to slide out over the face of the rocky outcropping. When the last ash blew free, she took a deep breath, inh
aling the brine of the ocean and went back home.

  28

  One year later –

  Janet set Neil in his chair and turned the ball game on. It was one of the small things he still seemed to enjoy. Afterward, she went off to her office to go over her latest project and email. She opened Nate’s note and felt her heart flip as she read about his heading back to the Middle East to help with the surge. Janet steeled herself and dashed a quick reply, letting him know to be careful on his second tour.

  She hit the send button and peered out the window. The home care aide for Neil was due any time. The aide service recommended by Dr. Childe had turned out to be a tremendous relief. And when Janet had to leave for a shoot on a weekend, Megan was more than willing to abandon Brad and hop in her car and drive down to watch her father.

  But an hour later, the aide still wasn’t there. Janet had an appointment across town in forty-five minutes. She grabbed her cell phone, punched in the number to the service and inquired as to when the aide would be there. After a brief pause, the operator came back and said the aide had called in. There had been a family emergency the woman had to attend to. They’d send someone out as soon as they could. Janet sighed and after ending the call, contacted her appointment, letting them know she’d be there as soon as she could.

  Frustrated, she got up and went to the Great Room where Neil sat watching TV. She found him with his shoes off and busy tearing pages out of one of her photo books. “What are you doing?” she said.

  He looked up then continued tearing another page out. “Neil, stop that!” she said and marched over to take it from him.

  When she reached for it, he eyed her indignantly and grabbed a hold of the binding. A tug of war ensued until she wrestled it away.

  “Why don’t we get you something to eat. Are you hungry?”

  “Give,” he commanded in a sharp, shrill voice, and swung his arm around, catching her square in the neck with a solid blow.

  Surprised and frightened, Janet kneaded her neck and put some space between them. “Neil! That hurt. Do you understand? You hit me.”