“My father wanted to be here himself,” Oliver explained.

“I understand.” The young doctor was kind and sympathetic.

“I want to be there when you … when …” His voice quavered and he couldn't say the words, as the doctor nodded his understanding. He had been through it dozens of times before, but somehow he wasn't hardened to it yet.

There was a nurse with her when they walked in, and the machines were pulsing and beeping. The line on the monitor traveled in a single straight line, and they all knew that that was her final condemnation. But she looked peaceful as she lay sleeping there. Her eyes were closed, her hair was clean, her hands lay at her sides, as George reached out and took one. He brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

“I love you, Phyllis … I always, always will … and one day we'll be together again.” The doctor and Ollie turned away, the son with tears flowing down his cheeks, wishing that everything could be different, that she could live a long, long time, that nothing had changed, that she would have lived to see Sam grow up and have children of his own. “Sleep peacefully, my darling,” George whispered for the last time, and then he looked up expectantly at the doctor. He continued to hold her hand, and the machines were turned off. And quietly, peacefully, with her husband holding her hand in death as he had in life, Phyllis Watson stopped breathing.

For a long moment, George closed his eyes, and then he bent to kiss her, laid her hand down, touched her cheek for a lingering moment, and looked at her for a long, long time, imprinting that last look on his heart forever. And then he walked outside blinded by tears. Forty-seven years of the life they shared, the love that had bonded them as one for most of their lives, had ended. But there was something beautiful about the way it had been done, because of the people they had been. Even the doctor was touched, as he left them to sign the papers. Oliver made him sit down on a chair in the hall, and then he drove him home again. He stayed with his father till noon, and then went home briefly to begin making the arrangements.

The children were waiting for him there, and Mel knew instantly that something had happened. Her father looked disheveled and exhausted, and Aggie's story had never rung true to her. “What happened, Dad?”

Tears filled his eyes. “Grandma just died, sweetheart. And it was very sad, and kind of beautiful at the same time. It's going to be very hard on Grandpa.” Mel started to cry, and a moment later, sensing something, Sam joined them. Ollie told him and he cried too. He was going to miss her so much.

“Can we go see Grandpa?”

“In a while. I have some things to do first.” There was the funeral to arrange, the final details at the hospital to wind up. And that afternoon, he decided to send them home on the train with Agnes. He called Daphne before he did, and asked her to drop in on them at the apartment. She told him how sorry she was. It didn't seem fair that all of this should be happening to him, she said, and he was touched and grateful.

He called Benjamin, too, and told him the news, and suggested he look in on his grandfather when he could. He told him he'd let him know when the funeral was. He thought it might be Wednesday.

And then he went back to his father's home and Ollie was relieved to see that Mrs. Porter, their faithful neighbor, was there, taking care of his father. She was quiet and polite and kind to him, and she was very sweet. Finally when he returned home, alone and exhausted, Sarah called him. She told him how sorry she was, and apologized in advance for not coming to the funeral, she had exams.

“Ill explain it to Dad.”

“Tell him how sorry I am.” She herself was crying.

“Thanks, Sarah.” And for once he felt nothing for her. All he could think of was his father's face as he had held his mother's hand, the look of love and gentleness he cast on her. It was what he wanted in his life, too, and he hoped that one day he would find it. But he knew now that it wouldn't be with Sarah.

He went back to his father's house in the morning, and by then, all the arrangements were made. The kids came back out on Tuesday night, and the funeral was Wednesday. It was a sweet, simple affair, with the music his mother had loved, and armfuls of lovely flowers from her own garden. And then, as they lowered the casket slowly into the ground, and left her there, he took his father home, to live alone, to face his grief, to end his days without the woman he had cherished.





Chapter 13


It was June before they all caught their breath again. School let out, and they moved back to the country for the summer. George came to visit them from time to time, and he seemed tired and much older. And it was obvious that he was desperately lonely, more so than he had been when Phyllis was at the rest home. At least then he could visit her, but all he could do now was talk about her to his family and friends.

Ollie was commuting again, a decision he had made for the summer. And it made him doubly glad now that he had taken the New York apartment. It was just as difficult going home late to the kids at night, but it didn't seem quite as bad in the summer. They swam in the pool when he got home, and the kids went to bed later than they did in the winter.

They celebrated the Fourth of July with a few friends and a barbecue, and in two weeks, Mel and Sam were joining Sarah for the rest of the summer. She was taking them to France, to travel there for a month with Jean-Pierre. She had called to tell him that, and he decided to let her. The kids were old enough to understand. Mel was sixteen and Sam almost ten, and they were excited about going.

George even came to the barbecue, and brought Margaret Porter, the pleasant neighbor they had all met before. She was an attractive woman with gray hair and a lively mind. She had been a nurse in her youth, and her late husband had been a doctor, and she seemed to take good care of Ollie's father. She made a point of seeing that he sat down when he should, without making an issue of it, brought him his food, and joked amiably with him and their friends and George seemed to like it. He talked about Phyllis a lot, and Ollie knew he still felt guilty about the accident that had ultimately killed her. But he seemed to be recovering. They all were, in their own way, from the blows of the past year. Even Ollie felt more himself now. He had filed for divorce in June, and at Daphne's constant urging, he had gone on a date, which had proven to be a disaster. He had gone out with a creative type from another agency, and afterward insisted the girl was a kook. She had wanted him to try cocaine, and her favorite sport was women's wrestling. Daphne had teased him about it a lot, but at least it was a beginning.

Benjamin and Sandra also came to the barbecue, and by then she was seven months pregnant. Ollie felt sorry for her, she wasn't bright, and her childish face looked ridiculous on the huge body. She talked about the baby a lot, and for a moment Ollie was terrified, wondering if they were going to get married too. But when he asked, Benjamin said they had no plans for that yet. He thought they were both too young.

Mel tried to talk to her several times, but she seemed to have nothing to say, and Mel finally gave up, and went back to chatting with her friends. Daphne had come out, too, and she and Margaret Porter spent a lot of time at the poolside talking.

“I had a lovely time,” Daphne told Ollie before she left. “A real old-fashioned Fourth of July, with good friends. You can't ask for more than that in life.” She smiled happily and he laughed, remembering bygone days.

“I could. But I guess I won't. Another date like the one I had, and it might kill me.” They both laughed, remembering the lady wrestling fan.

“Your father seems to be doing all right, and I like his friend. She's a very interesting woman. She and her husband traveled a lot in the Far East, and they set up a clinic for two years in Kenya.”

“She seems to be good for Dad. That's something at least. I just wish Benjamin would sort himself out. That girl is sweet, but she'll destroy his life, if he lets her.”

“Give him a chance. He's trying to do the right thing. He just doesn't know what that is yet.”

“It's hard to imagine him with a kid of his own. He's still a child himself, and she looks like she's fourteen years old. And God, Daph, she's so pathetically stupid.”

“She's just out of her element here, and you have to admit, she's at a hell of a disadvantage. She knows what you all think of her, what Benjamin has given up to be with her. That's a hell of a burden for her.”

Ollie smiled at his friend ruefully. “Speaking of which, she looks like she's having triplets.”

“Don't be unkind,” she scolded.

“Why not? She's ruining my son's life.”

“Maybe not. Maybe the baby will be terrific.”

“I'd still like her to give it up.”

Daphne shook her head, she had talked to both of them, and she knew better. “I don't think Benjamin would let her. He's too much like you, too moral, too decent, too anxious to stand up for what he believes in and do the right thing for everyone. He's a great kid. Everything'll be all right.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He's your kid, isn't he?” And then she had gone back to New York, and the others had left shortly after. And Ollie had helped Agnes clean up, and in spite of himself, as he lay alone by the pool late that night, he found himself thinking of Sarah, wondering what she was doing then. The Fourth of July had always been special to them. And they would have been married nineteen years that summer. It made him think of other things as well … his parents … and his father … and Margaret Porter. He wondered if his father was interested in her, or just grateful for her help, and happy to have someone to talk to. Maybe a little of both. It was odd to think of his father interested in anyone, except his late wife.