“Is that so?” says Rosamond. The surprise in her voice makes it clear that Hayden has done a good job of keeping his behind-the-scenes activities from both women. Though Rosamond wishes that Diana wasn’t joking and someone truly did offer dating lessons. She’d be the first one to sign up.
“We were standing outside his apartment and when he asked me up, I said, ‘I’d go upstairs with you, honest I would, but I’m at the end of my period.’ ” Diana takes the mixing bowl from Rosamond and demonstrates how to crush the lumps against the side of the metal bowl with the back of the wooden spoon. “You have to break these or the waffles will be lumpy.” She hands the bowl back to Rosamond. “And you’ll never believe what he said.”
Far from worrying about believing what Hank said, Rosamond is so stunned that Diana is talking about going up to a man’s apartment on the second date that she drops the wooden spoon into the waffle mix and has to clean it off in the sink.
But Diana doesn’t notice her friend’s discomfort and excitedly continues, “He ran his fingers up and down the small of my back and it felt soooo good and said, ‘Oh, well, if you feel okay then why don’t we just get a towel?’ ”
“You’re kidding?” says Rosamond. “So then what did you say?”
“I was astonished. I mean, it’s what you wish men would say, even if they don’t really mean it, but of course they rarely do.” Her face beams with pleasure. “So I said, ‘Are you sure? I’d understand if you . . . ’ but he stopped me, put his hands on my shoulders, looked directly into my eyes and said, ‘Diana, your cycle represents the life force within us, one of the greatest miracles of all.’ ”
“Really?” says Rosamond, with obvious interest in the details. “And then what happened?”
“It was incredible. Next we—”
“I smell my favorite blueberry waffles!” Hayden strides into the kitchen tossing a baseball back and forth with Joey, who is wearing a baseball uniform and has his catcher’s mitt on his left hand.
Diana shields her face with the bowl containing freshly cut cantaloupe, plum tomatoes, and crushed macadamia nuts, another recipe from her latest trip to the health food store. “Don’t throw that thing in the house. You’ll kill somebody.”
“Looks like somebody already died,” says Hayden. “I’ve been meaning to paint the kitchen anyway.” He gives Diana a big kiss on the cheek to prove he’s not angry and then nods toward the dark red splotches on the walls. “Though it would appear you’ve started without me.”
“Cool!” says Joey. “It’s like a crime scene.”
“These waffles don’t look very good.” Rosamond appears worried as she oversees the waffle iron.
“The first two are always terrible, don’t ask me why,” explains Diana. “Just throw them away.”
“Now what were you lassies just giggling about in here?” asks Hayden while ignoring Diana’s pleas to stop tossing the baseball.
“None of your business,” Diana replies and grabs the ball in midair. Then she runs her fingers through Joey’s hair to inspect for signs of recent shampooing. “Joey, you’re going to get head lice if you don’t wash your hair. Now how many times do I have to remind you before it actually happens?”
“Eighteen to twenty,” Joey replies matter-of-factly.
Diana twists his hair so that his head is forced to turn and face her. “Don’t be a smart aleck.”
“Ouch.” He manages to slip out from under her. “I’m not. I counted. Eighteen to twenty is the average number of times you remind me between hair washings.”
Before Diana can continue to argue Hayden rescues his grandson. “Do’an’ think I didn’t hear what time you came in last night,” he teases her. “Honestly, I believe you’re a bad influence on the boy.”
“We watched Dracula,” says Joey.
“Dad, will you stop showing Joey horror films. He’s been sleeping with the light on!”
“Rosie’s the one who looks like she didn’t catch a wink,” observes Hayden, the playfulness now dropping from his voice. As cavalier as Hayden is about disregarding his own illness, he doesn’t seem to want to afford Rosamond the same consideration.
“Now that you mention it, you look more exhausted than Dad,” Diana concurs. “Don’t you feel well?”
“To be honest, I didn’t sleep much. I kept having strange dreams and then waking up.”
“Those horror movies are bad for your health, I’m convinced of it,” Diana says in typical motherly fashion. “I was just reading a book by that natural healing doctor who is always on TV and—”
“I didn’t watch the movie,” says Rosamond. “I felt so tired that I turned in right after we got home. But I couldn’t fall asleep for several hours.”
“You should have come down and watched Dracula,” says Joey. “I vant to suck your blood!” He raises his arms and bares his teeth in imitation of a vampire.
“The Reverend Mother always says that if you can’t sleep then lie in bed and count your blessings.”
Hayden catches Joey’s eye and they have to stifle a laugh. Sometimes Rosamond sounds just like one of the spinster primary school teachers from Hayden’s youth.
“Are you in any sort of pain?” Diana demands to know. She removes her yellow dish gloves and places her hand with the built-in thermometer up to Rosamond’s forehead.
“I’ve been feeling all right, better really . . .”
“A person with The Lung Cancer is like a dog,” Hayden chimes in.
“Beg your pardon?” asks Diana.
“They tend to linger. People with The Liver Cancer are like alley cats—fine one night and then poof.” He snaps his fingers. “Next day as stiff as a board.”
“Dad!” Diana exclaims sharply and then turns to Rosamond. “Is it being too presumptuous if I suggest you see a doctor? At the very least maybe he can give you something to sleep . . .”
“Sleeping pills?” shouts Hayden. “Why, I have enough Nembutal to knock out an entire—”
“No, thanks. I’m sure it will pass,” says Rosamond. “I’ve had strange dreams before.”
“Last week I had nightmares about giant snakes,” offers Joey.
“That’s because Grandpa let you watch Anaconda,” says Diana.
“This time it was really just a dream . . . about a beach,” continues Rosamond.
“Did you see Jaws?” asks Joey. “I had nightmares about man-eating sharks after that one.”
Diana’s eyes become wide and round until she’s competing with her favorite actress, Bette Davis. She turns to Hayden with a look that says, “You let him watch Jaws? I’m going to kill you before any cancer does!”
But Rosamond doesn’t notice this visual exchange. “No, Joey. There weren’t any sharks in this dream. Though there’s an ocean. I wake up on a deserted beach—it’s very beautiful, with turquoise water and a pale blue sky and shimmering white sand. And there are signs of others—picnic baskets, umbrellas, red-and-white-striped towels. Only they’ve all gone and I’m alone waiting for them to come back . . .”
“I believe in dreams,” Hayden firmly states.
“You don’t believe in anything,” scoffs Diana.
“That’s not true,” he corrects her while secretly pouring the prune juice into the sink as soon as she turns around to take the milk out of the refrigerator. “I believe in sin.”
Rosamond appears surprised. “You do not!”
“Yup. Only one though, Zephaniah 1:12.”
“This is too much,” says Rosamond. “You expect me to believe that you’ve read the Bible. And on top of that, you believe in just one sin.”
“Of course I’ve read the Bible,” says Hayden. “You get stuck on Kodiak Island for three weeks without electricity after selling liability insurance to a logging company and that’s about all there is to do. Unless you happen to like hunting caribou, which I don’t.”
“You don’t know Jesus from Adam,” says Diana.
“Adam Smith happens to be a famous Scottish
economist. So he and Jesus were both in the business of teachin’ people how to save,” Hayden shoots back at her. “Anyway, I believe in the sin of complacency—of not acting upon your convictions. And I believe that dreams are your convictions rising to the surface from your subconscious.”
“Then you’ve fooled me twice,” says Rosamond. “I’d never have imagined that you, of all people, had ever opened a Bible. And if I knew that you had, then I would have assumed your favorite line was in Genesis, where Abram says to Lot, ‘If you go to the left, I’ll go to the right; if you go to the right, I’ll go to the left.’ ”
“Ha ha!” says Hayden. “I was attempting to be see-rious. You know, lead me not into temptation. I can find my own way just fine, thank you.”
“Dad, serious?” exclaims Diana. “It must really be getting near the end.”
“Aha! You finally did it!” Hayden claps his hands. “You made a joke about me dyin’! We’re goin’ to have to ice skate to the museum today since I’m pretty sure that hell just froze over!” Hayden jumps up and practically does a jig, but a sharp jab of pain in his gut quickly stops him and he doubles over. Rosamond helps him to sit back down.
After determining that he’s all right Diana resumes the argument. “Dad, watch your language! And I did not make a joke.”
“Did so,” from Joey.
“Stop always siding with your grandfather,” says Diana.
Hayden pours a cup of coffee and Diana scowls at the deadly liquid.
“I’ve never believed in astrology or dream analysis,” muses Rosamond.
“Me neither,” says Diana. “I never dream. I just think of all my favorite movie scenes until I fall asleep.” She looks out the window and dramatically recites: “ ‘My love for you is the only malady I’ve contracted since the usual childhood diseases . . . and it’s incurable.’ ”
They all turn to look at her as if she’s losing her mind from inhaling too much Clorox, and Diana says, “What?” But it’s obvious that she’s embarrassed about having released this information about her sleeping habits. “It’s what Clifton Webb said in The Dark Corner.”
“I’ve never seen love and disease so inextricably linked in one human being,” says Hayden.
“Well, this is definitely a dream and not anything from a movie,” says Rosamond. “I’ve had this same vision in one form or another since I was a teenager. I wonder if it does mean something.”
Hayden studies her. “You say it’s a white sand beach with clear blue water?”
“Sparkling blue water, as if thousands of tiny sapphires are floating on the surface.”
“Have you ever been to that beach?” asks Hayden. “Is it tucked away somewhere in your memory bank?”
“No, I don’t think so. The coastline in Maine is mostly rocky and rugged. Once I visited my mother’s family in Allentown, Pennsylvania, but there wasn’t any water nearby. And that’s as far south as I’ve ever been.”
“Sounds like the Gulf of Mexico or the Caribbean,” Hayden decides. “Was there a golf course? The Bahamas lay claim to some of the world’s top-ranked golf courses.”
“No golf courses that I could see. But there were seagulls. And on the blankets were some of those brightly colored drinks with wedges of fruit and paper umbrellas in them.”
“I’ll bet it’s the Caribbean,” Hayden affirms.
“Oh, Dad,” Diana says dismissively. “It could be anywhere. It could be the southern tip of Africa for all we know. It’s probably a scene out of a movie.”
However, Rosamond is intrigued. “It’s funny you should say the Caribbean because I remember red hibiscus surrounding the stone ruins of an old sugar mill.”
“Maybe it’s the alkahest!” Joey shouts with excitement. “And then you’ll live forever!”
“Aha!” Hayden slams his hand down on the Formica-topped kitchen table so that Joey’s now-empty plate jumps. An idea shoots through his mind like a meteor, its urgency made apparent by its very brightness.
Rosamond is becoming increasingly caught up in the excitement. “So what does it mean?”
Hayden hops up and paces like a restless zoo animal. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“What’s that?” asks Rosamond.
“We’ll go there!” proclaims Hayden. He has the fervent look of a convert about to be baptized.
“To the Caribbean?” Rosamond asks wide-eyed. “Together?”
Diana drops the pot she’s scrubbing into the sink and it makes a loud clang.
chapter forty-eight
Of course together,” Hayden continues, his voice now raw-edged with restlessness. “We’ll go to Saint Croix.”
“But Dad . . .” Diana says with alarm.
“But Hayden . . .” Rosamond concurs.
“Can I go, too?” pleads Joey.
“No, you may not!” Diana states firmly. “You begged me to play baseball. And now you’re going to play!”
“That’s not fair!” shouts Joey. Until now Hayden and Rosamond have included him in all their outings. And if The Cancer Monster really is trying to take his grandfather then Joey needs to be nearby to protect him. Though there is something about the idea of Hayden having Rosamond all to himself that also bothers Joey. After all, isn’t she more his friend—while Hayden rests they play cards for hours or go on long walks in the park to search for fossils, Indian arrowheads, and buried treasure. “I can go, right, Grandpa? Right, Rosie?”
But Hayden’s look is the same one that accompanied the news that his grandma Mary was not coming back from the hospital.
“No one is going anywhere!” Diana attempts to restore calm.
Only Joey knows that Hayden cannot be stopped. He’s as sure of his grandfather’s willpower as he is of his own. Hayden is going. He’s planning to take Rosamond away and leave him behind—unloved, abandoned, practically an orphan. Joey hurls his chair away from the table and runs from the room so they can’t see his torrent of tears.
“Oh dear,” says Diana and wipes her hands on a dish towel. She’s torn between rushing to comfort her son and staying to reason with her father. The only thing that keeps her from running after Joey is that she doesn’t know how to explain what he only feels in his heart—that Rosamond is his first love. And that she’s Hayden’s last. Joey possesses a bargaining chip that Hayden does not, the luxury of time. And given that the heart is one of the few self-regenerating organs, despite how Diana aches with tenderness for her son, she’s certain that Joey’s will eventually heal.
“What’s all the fuss?” Hayden demands to know. “Where does it say that dying folks can’t have a holiday, I’d like to know? Monotony is a slow death. And besides, I was busy goin’ to funerals until you came along, Miss Let’s Do Everything We’ve Never Done Before.”
“Yes, but I meant things like taking the Circle Line and going to the Natural History Museum,” insists Rosamond. Yet the words from Romans are flashing in her mind like an “accident ahead” warning sign on the highway. “Count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires.”
“Well, I’ve never played golf on Saint Croix and it’s next on my list of things to do afore dying,” continues Hayden. “There’s an incredible course in the northwest valley designed by Robert Trent Jones. In fact, I’ll get you a set of irons and teach you the game, Rosie. And of course there’s the rum! Come let me lead you by distilled waters.”
Rosamond looks to Diana, who is still staring at Hayden in disbelief. What would her mother do in such a situation? Diana wonders. She might ask Diana if she is trying to stop Hayden for his sake or more for her own.
Finally, and much to Diana’s relief, Rosamond says, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea, Hayden . . .”
“For someone named ‘Rosie’ you aren’t much fun,” he proclaims. “I’m a goin’ to Saint Croix tomorrow. Are you in or out?”
“I . . . I,” Rosamond stutters and turns
to Diana for assistance.
“Dad,” asserts Diana, as if to bring all this nonsense to an end once and for all, “this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve not been at all well lately. You hardly eat. What if something happens?!” She punctuates her admonition with a walrus-sized sigh of exasperation.
“I’m leavin’ tomorrow. I’m tired of lookin’ for death all the livelong day. It’ll find me sure enough. Dyin’ is the cost of livin’. And I want to do something that makes me feel alive.”
Rosamond glances reluctantly out to the living room, where she can hear checkers bouncing off walls and board games being overturned as Joey angrily protests being left out. “Let me think about it,” she replies in a soft voice, but the expression on her face conveys doubt rather than excitement. Rosamond rises, and as she leaves the room she turns in the archway and tells Hayden, “In the meantime, you’d better go and have a talk with your grandson.”
Diana throws up her hands, acknowledging that she’s been bested, though it’s not without having become conscious of the fact that sick people live at varying distances from the real world. And as much as she’d like to believe that she’s able to protect Hayden by keeping watch over him every minute of the day, in truth there isn’t anything at all she can do to stave off the inevitable. She turns toward the sink to hide the tears welling in her eyes.
“Then we’re off like a prom dress!” exclaims Hayden.
“Dad!” Diana quickly recovers from her momentary lapse. “Joey will hear you.” It suddenly becomes clear to Diana that Hayden is totally oblivious to Joey’s desperate crush on Rosamond.
“So what? Do you think he’s never kissed a girl? Why, Joey’s got so many girls trying to kiss him that he has to run like a sheep avoidin’ the shears to get away from them all!”
Diana is truly stunned, especially since from the gleam in Hayden’s eyes her maternal radar senses that for once he’s not just provoking her. Oh good heavens, she hasn’t even talked to Joey about picking up germs through kissing, not to mention cold sores and other sexually transmitted diseases. She dashes into the living room to make sure he’s all right.
Last Call Page 25
