The Widow's Walk

by Carole Ann Moleti

  She took advantage of the nurse’s presence. “Let me go find Allison.”

  Mike nodded, still too winded to waste words.

  Allison stood talking to a woman with a white coat over green scrubs. “I know you’re busy, but both my father and stepmother are frantic. I’ll stay and take care of him tonight.”

  Stepmother. Like the wicked witch in her castle, plotting evil deeds. Liz groped for words, but they clogged in her throat. She was Mike’s wife. She’d promised not to leave him.

  “Is there anything else I can do to ease your mind, Ms. Keeny?"

  Allison’s back was turned, so she didn’t know Liz was there. “No, thank you for coming up.” “I’m her until midnight, if you need me.” The supervisor hurried toward the elevator.

  Liz wanted to go after her, say her piece, yet didn’t want to leave Mike all alone. Allison swiveled and almost bumped into her.

  “Liz! She made all the usual excuses. Support staff run amok, as usual.” She went back into the room.

  That was it? Explanation accepted? The nurse came out of Mike's room.

  “You look so upset, Mrs. Keeny.”

  “My first husband died of lung cancer.” The tears broke free.

  Cynthia stroked her arm. “I’ll be in on rounds just about every hour. I also have his monitors on alarm, in case anything changes.”

  She was probably thinking what a pain in the ass it would be, handling a meddling wife desperate to hold back the ravages of time, to control fate. In the space of a couple of weeks, Liz had turned from a new mother to an old woman limping along with a cane. From a widow grateful for a second chance at happiness, to one grappling to prevent it from happening a second time.

  She paused at the door to Mike’s room to unjumble the emotions boiling inside.

  “I’m so sorry I haven’t been back, but it’s so hard.” Allison’s voice was warbly, thick with regret.

  Liz removed her hand from the door handle.

  “Dad. I’m staying tonight. Let me go find Dana and send her to your house.”

  “It hasn’t been lived in for some time, Allison.”

  Oh no. Liz walked in. “Allison you’re the most qualified to stay, but I wouldn’t sleep a second if I was home worrying.”

  “There’s no reason for two of us to be here.” Allison’s pursed lips belied her annoyance.

  “No, there isn’t.” She couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t leave. She was his wife.

  “I don’t think either of you need to stay. That nurse is first-rate. Whatever they’re giving me works like magic. I feel great.” Mike was doing his best to avoid an argument.

  “If only you’d gotten some antibiotics last week, Dad.”

  “I know, I know. But I didn’t, and here I am. No lectures, remember?” Another paroxysm of coughing overcame him.

  Liz squirmed. She didn’t dare tell Allison they were using herbs and homeopathics.

  “Okay. Liz will stay tonight and I’ll stay tomorrow night. Is that okay?

  Mike, still hacking, nodded.

  Allison picked up her bag and turned to Liz. “You’ll be ready for a break by tomorrow.”

  Was that a trace of sarcasm, or was she being paranoid?

  “Where can I get the keys, Dad?”

  “Stop by the inn. Kevin will get you settled,” Mike rasped.

  Is this a deliberate snub? “Allison, the heat and hot water are on low and there are only a few outdated groceries in the cupboard. The phone is disconnected, and there is no Internet. Why don’t you stay at the inn? I’ll have Mae make up a room for you and Dana.”

  “Thanks, but this might be my last chance to sleep in my old room since the house is for sale. I need to put a lot of things behind me before I can close the door. You have my cell phone number.” Allison was acting gracious, but aggravation oozed from her voice.

  She kissed Mike on the forehead. “Behave yourself. Drink a lot of water. Deep breathe and cough that junk up. See you in the morning.”

  “Yes, boss,” he joked.

  “You take it easy, too, Liz. If you burnout, who will take care of you both?”

  She wasn’t helpless and wouldn’t be made to feel that way. “Good night, Allison. I’ll call you if need be.”

  Liz settled in the chair and pulled it close enough to the bed that she could rest her head on his lap. “She’s angry with me.”

  “Nah. She’s always pushy. We’ve had our issues, and still do.” Mike mussed her hair. “How are you going to sleep like that? You really should go home and be with Eddie.” His voice was tinged with uncharacteristic melancholy.

  “Eddie will be fine. I belong here with you.” Her watch read eight, but it seemed more like midnight. The baby had been nursing much less lately, so there was only the faintest tingle of fullness. She could wait until the morning. Liz settled into the bedside chair and leaned over to rest her head next to Mike.

  The touch on her shoulder startled Liz out of sleep. “Kevin.”

  “Yer both exhausted. Shall I ask that lovely young nurse to put the soup in the fridge?”

  “Soup? Mae’s soup?” Mike opened his eyes and smiled.

  “Aye. Cures whatever ails ya.” Kevin grasped Mike’s outstretched hand.

  Neither let go. Tears brimmed in Mike’s eyes. Kevin’s smile faded, he looked down, troubled by something. Had Paul been visiting him?

  Kevin let go first. “Still warm. Mae put it into two bowls, sent spoons. She’s not one for takin’ chances.”

  Liz moved the bedside table and put a pillow behind his back so Mike could eat. She sat back in her chair and spooned the savory broth into her mouth. It warmed her from the inside out, relaxed tense muscles, eased the pressure in her head.

  Mike finished the entire portion. “Tell Mae this did me more good than the drugs.”

  “I’m going before they call the cops to drag me out of here.” Kevin hadn’t even taken off his coat.

  “How’s Eddie?” Liz had seen him only briefly that morning.

  “He’s lookin’ for both of ya. Asking about Da, even said Ma. But Mae showed him a picture and he settled down to sleep with no fussin’.”

  Liz sighed. “Allison is coming to relieve me in the morning.”

  “We’ll be waitin’.” Kevin poked his head out the door. “The coast is clear.” He disappeared into the darkened hallway.

  Mike stayed silent, deep in contemplation.

  Oh, God, please don’t let him find out what happened to Jared.

  She rummaged through the bags for toothbrushes. “Mae packed a robe and slippers for you, Mike.”

  “Don’t need them. I wish you’d gone home with Kevin.”

  “I belong with you.”

  “I figured you’d say that.” Mike struggled to keep his eyes open.

  Liz got him a basin to brush his teeth and washed up in the bathroom. She cleaned off his table, tucked the blankets around him, and wrapped one around herself.

  “Let’s sleep.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  He reached up to caress her face with more tenderness than he shown in a long while. “I wish we were home.”

  “Soon.” Liz rested her head and torso on the bed and let her eyes close.

  He hadn’t coughed since eating the chicken soup. “We’re a sight for sore eyes, aren’t we sweetie?”

  “Things will be back to normal soon.” If only she could be sure that was true.

  Mary stared at Mike, her lips pursed, the way she always looked when she was going to yell at him for something. Her head shook, almost imperceptibly, but he was her husband and knew all the subtleties.

  “No, what? What’s wrong?” Mike’s eyes opened and fell on a young woman with dark hair bending over his bed, touchi
ng his arm. The beeps reminded him. He was in the hospital, and Mary didn’t want him to die either.

  “Everything is fine, Mr. Keeny. Just taking vital signs and giving you antibiotics.” Cynthia plugged one tube into another and fiddled with a clamp.

  “Okay.” He could plead delirium and not look like a fool. Mary had never manifested herself to him as a ghost, only in vivid dreams or thoughts too clear to have just been memories.

  Liz didn’t stir, well practiced in the sick bed routine, having watched her husband die of a lung, not breast cancer, but cancer nonetheless. She knew exactly how to find comfort sleeping in a chair, ignoring bleeps, hisses, hospital odors and the nurses, who always seemed to be there, in the dark, small flashlights of reassurance that you weren’t alone, that someone cared, that someone was watching.

  Mary and Gerry weren’t trapped in warped time. They’d lived full, if shortened, lives. They finished all their business, and then died after grieving spouses had a chance to say goodbye. Not so for Elisabeth and Jared and Edward, the third and elusive arm of the triangle–bound together by a chain of death to a world they could no longer live in.

  The blood pressure cuff crackled open. The thermometer beeped. Cynthia whispered. “No fever. You’ve turned the corner. I’m going to take you off the oxygen to see how you do. We can put it back if you need it.” She threaded the tubing off his face.

  Mike clamped his eyes closed, but it was too late to recapture the dream, to hear more of what Mary wanted to tell him. Tears welled in his eyes remembering the anguish of watching her die. They’d both known it was time when Mary finally let go. Jared, with nothing to live for, gave up. How much longer could he fight?

  Chapter 18

  Mike’s hand rested on Liz’s back, and he was vaguely aware of the rise and fall of her breathing–almost as good as feeling her heartbeat. She was still sprawled across his bed and almost looked comfortable though bent in half.

  Daylight poked through the window, augmenting the fluorescent glow from the over bed light. The monitor volume was turned down, but wavy green, gold, and red lines traced and flashed unintelligible information about his vital signs.

  He tested a deep breath, the pain was almost gone. His stomach growled with hunger, his throat burned from thirst. Thanks to the IV pumping into him, his bladder was ready to burst. He eased onto his side to find the call bell.

  Liz woke with a start. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I have to go to the bathroom. Help me up.” He started to swing his legs over the side.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mike. You’re hooked up to an awful lot of things. And who knows if you’re strong enough. Here’s a urinal.” Liz lifted up the plastic container and reached toward Mike.

  “Oh, jeez.” Good thing Allison hadn’t been the one to stay last night. As bad as it was having your wife stick your dick into a bottle, having your daughter do it was worse.

  Liz, well-practiced, placed it strategically, leaving him to make the final adjustments. She went to the bathroom herself, giving him enough time and privacy to pee and get the damn thing back out before she returned to empty it for him.

  “I’d really like to get in the shower. Do you think they’ll let me?” He bent his knees and pushed back in the bed to test his strength. Seemed okay.

  “We’ll find out the plan soon.” Liz filled the basin with warm water and dug a washcloth and towel out of the drawer. “You wash up.” She unsnapped the sleeves on the gown, laying bare his chest, and draped the infernal blue flowered thing over his midsection. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  Liz hefted the overnight bag over one shoulder and limped away, the other hand rubbing her hip. Sleeping pretzel style probably hadn’t been easy on her battered body, but he was sure glad she’d been there with him. The fear, the foreboding, the ghostly presences seemed remote now, but they thrived in darkness, stealing reason and sanity.

  A spasm of coughing racked him for the first time in a few hours. His ribs throbbed, and he splinted them by wrapping his arms across his chest. Water sloshed out of the basin on the rickety over bed table.

  The shower fizzed, then sputtered. Equipment clanked and voices passed by his room. Lights flashed on in the hallway. The smell of coffee wafted in.

  Liz hobbled out, clothes changed, tacking her damp hair up into a knot. “How’re you doing?”

  “I don’t feel very clean but I guess that’s the best I can do.”

  Liz dumped the basin, then gave him a cup of water to brush his teeth. “I’m going to get you a dry gown and sheets.”

  “Rustle up some food out there,” Mike said, a sure sign he was on the mend.

  “You must be better.” She ducked into the hall. A nurse came in with Liz and a tablet computer. “Good morning, Mr. Keeny. Cynthia said you had a good night and she’ll see you later. Feel like sitting up while we make the bed?”

  “Sure do. Would love a shower, too.” He started to get up, then realized he was naked under a makeshift loincloth.

  The nurse laughed. “One step at a time. Mr. Keeny. Mrs. Keeny, why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and get something for yourself?”

  Liz looked wounded, her eyes darted, the door then to Mike. “I . . . uh . . . I guess I can use the time to call home. Be right back.”

  There was no graceful or discrete way to get up when you weren’t wearing underwear. Mike flashed a few choice parts when he slid his legs over the side. His knees buckled once he put weight on them. The two women were all business as they plopped Mike into the chair, just like all the other old geezers. As soon as he was settled, a sullen woman in a brown smock plunked a breakfast tray on his bedside table.

  “Hi, Daddy! Wow, you’re up.” The youthful lilt in Allison’s voice and expression was reminiscent of the little girl who’d thrown her arms around him, sworn he was the best daddy in the world, and promised she’d stay with him forever.

  Too bad none of it came true. Time had marched on, then taken off on a sprint. They’d grown apart, and things would never be that way again. He wasn’t going to die right now, but he was dying. He might have escaped this time, but no one could evade the reality forever.

  “Not hungry?” Allison lifted the cover on the plate and rummaged on the tray for sugar. “Want milk in your tea, or should I go look for lemon? Honey might help soothe the congestion.”

  Liz appeared in the doorway holding a tray. “I’ve got tea with lemon and honey. Milk will only make the congestion worse.” Her tone was pure ice, like Allison had offered to buy him illegal drugs.

  He sipped tea, not because he really wanted to, but to swallow the anger in the room. What could Allison have done to piss Liz off, unless he’d been so out of it he didn’t notice?

  “I got French toast for all of us.” Her tone turned desperate, like breakfast was the magic bullet that would cure him.

  Allison’s nose scrunched, which Mike knew meant she was confused as well. “When I dropped Dana at the inn so she could get some work done online, Mae insisted on making us a huge breakfast. The baby got so big since the last time I saw him.”

  “Well, then you and I can eat this, Mike. I’ve got to get home to nurse. I wish Eddie could come see his dad.” Liz’s voice softened.

  “Sit and eat, Liz.” Allison surrendered the chair moved toward the door. “Maybe you can bring the baby to the lounge later today.”

  “I’m still pretty weak. Took two nurses to get me into the chair.” Whatever the hell was going on between his wife and his daughter was taking over his show.

  Allison shifted weight from one leg to the other. “I’ll go see if I can find the doctor.” When no one answered, she ducked out.

  Liz cut and chewed French toast as if she was eating cardboard.

  Mike stared until he got her attention. “Is something
wrong?”

  She hesitated. “Allison blames me for all of this.”

  “Liz, you don’t know the half of what went on between the two of us over the last few years. All the anguish over losing Mary. Then the whole thing over coming out and me not going to the wedding. We still haven’t recovered.”