Cracks in the Sidewalk(14)

She handed Claire three prescriptions. “Have these filled as soon as possible. The Desmopressin will get rid of Elizabeth’s thirst and help her reduce the fluid build-up. It replicates the hormone her pituitary gland is no longer producing.”

Charlie prided himself in being pragmatic, a man capable of cutting through the emotional upheaval of a dilemma to focus on solutions. Claire would fly into a tizzy over some insignificant thing, but not him. He believed every problem had a solution and his job was to find it. As the doctor began slipping X-rays back into their envelopes, Charlie asked, “Is there anything we can do?”

“Families can always help,” Doctor Sorenson said. “Radiation treatments, if we do proceed with them, can take both an emotional and physical toll on a person. Elizabeth will need a lot of love and understanding. And,” she added with a touch of sarcasm, “you might mention that to her husband.” She gathered her papers and left the room.

For a long while, no one said anything; the only sound came from a loudspeaker somewhere down the hall echoing out a call. The clock on the wall continued to move forward, minute after minute. Elizabeth looked at the clock and wondered how many of those precious minutes she had left.

She was so very tired—tired of the pain, of being poked and probed. Tired of the way this thing chipped away pieces of her mind and robbed her of yesterdays. Tired of struggling to move a finger or lift a hand. Elizabeth closed her eyes and saw three small faces looking up at her. Babies who needed a mother, children who would be left without someone to tell them stories, tuck them into bed at night, chase away demons, and offer a hand to hold.

She hesitated for a moment, looking at the future inside her eyelids. Then in a voice weighted with the challenge ahead, she said, “I can conquer this. I’ll insist on the radiation. It’ll work. It has to.”

Moments later JT walked into the room.

“Don’t get on me about not being on time,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. “I’ve already had all I can take!” He gave the McDermotts a slight nod, then turned to Elizabeth. “I suppose the doctor’s been here and gone, right?”

“Yes,” she answered wearily.

Claire took Charlie’s hand and said, “We’ll step outside for a while and give you time to talk.” Together they left the room and disappeared down the hall.

Elizabeth waited for Jeffrey to speak.

After a few moments of pacing, he said, “Sorry I’m late.”

“What the doctor had to say was very important. You should have been here.”

“What the hell do you want from me? I already said I’m sorry!”

“I wanted you to be here. It looks like—”

“Get off my ass!” he screamed. “I’m killing myself, and all I get from you is—”

“Don’t take it out on me because you’ve got problems. You think I don’t have—”

“I knew this was gonna happen! I busted my ass to get here, and you give me a shitload of grief for being late. But do you ask why I’m late? No! Cause you don’t give a hairy-assed bean about my problems. All you care about is—”

“Okay,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I’m sorry. What’s the problem?”

“Not that I think you really give a shit, but I was in an accident. My car’s got three, maybe four thousand worth of damage.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Yeah, me! I’m up to my balls in debt now. How the hell am I supposed to pay for this? This shit’s never-ending! It’s one thing after another!”

“I know it’s not—”

“You don’t know the half of it!”

“Jeffrey, it’s not that I—”

“Look, I feel for you, being sick and all. But don’t compare your problems to mine. You don’t have bill collectors banging at the door. You don’t have kids bitching about this, that, and the other thing. You think my life’s a picnic? Well, think again, because it sure as hell ain’t!”


“I know it’s been hard—”

“No, you don’t! You’ve got no money worries, because Big Daddy takes care of you. But me, I’m dog-shit stuck to his shoes.”


“That’s not true.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. Daddy cares about you the way he would a son.”

“Sure he does.” JT gave a contemptuous sneer. “A son he’s willing to toss to the wolves! You think I haven’t told him how bad things are? My back’s to the wall. I need a loan, or I’m gonna lose the store. Instead of helping out, he’s paying for you to have a private room!”

“I’ll talk to him,” Elizabeth volunteered.

“You’d better, because I’m at the end of my rope.” JT nervously paced alongside the bed. “If he doesn’t come through soon, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” His words rocked between anger and whine, then more anger, and now the pitiful sound of a trapped animal.

“I’m sure he will,” Elizabeth said.

“I just can’t handle everything myself,” he moaned. “You’ve got to get out of here, Liz, and come home.”

“I am. The doctor said tomorrow, maybe the day after.”