The Parting Gift(31)

“Yes, I’ve been in. He was still sleeping, so I decided to get breakfast started.”

“I think I’ll run up for a few minutes. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come help you carry stuff up.”

“Okay. It should only be five or ten minutes. Oatmeal today – a little bit of a let-down after yesterday probably, but too much of the salt and grease upsets his stomach.”

“Oatmeal sounds good. Something warm for such a cold morning.” He set his empty teacup on the table and headed toward the stairs.



****



Mara watched Blaine stride from the room. A sudden rush of melancholy spread through her. She had been a nurse for a few years now, and although this was her first in-home care assignment – her first deathbed assignment – she knew many patients experienced an eleventh hour energy boost. They would seem to improve right before the end. Blaine was obviously hopeful. She didn’t want to be the one to deflate his optimism. David was exhausted from yesterday’s activity. It didn’t look good, and two days in a row like yesterday could speed up the inevitable.

The newly reconciled relationship between father and son had fulfilled the old man’s last wish. He could die happy. There were no loose ends left to concern him, and Emily was waiting.

A solitary tear slid down her cheek as she stirred the oatmeal. When she took this job, she hadn’t expected to become so attached to her patient. She hadn’t counted on it being so difficult to say goodbye – and she hadn’t even considered the possibility of falling in love.

That’s what it was now, wasn’t it?

Mara took this job, because she had to have a way to support herself after the loss of her husband – a place to live, someone to take care of. She got far more than she bargained for. This job was nearing its end, she knew. She had lain awake last night thinking about it. Thinking about this place as home was a painful prospect; she knew she would have to leave. Thinking of Blaine as anything other than her patient’s son was much worse. The thought of losing him – she wasn’t ready to deal with that.

But she would have to… soon. She would have to take another job. He would go back to Boston. What would there be to hold him here after his father was gone?

Her stomach churned. I don’t think I can deal with so much loss at once, God, she prayed silently. Give me strength.



****



“Merry Christmas, Pop. How are you feeling this morning?” Blaine could tell the moment he stepped in the room that it was not going to be a day like yesterday had been. His father was pale; exhaustion resonated in the dark circles around his cloudy gray eyes. Even so, the old man smiled weakly but didn’t try to speak. Perhaps an effort to conserve energy for the day. Blaine adjusted a couple of pillows and helped his father to sit.



“Mar – Mrs. Crawford is making oatmeal this morning. It’s pretty cold today. The oatmeal will be nice.” Ordinarily Blaine didn’t try to fill the silence with idle chatter, but for some reason it felt necessary now. There was a need to drown out the concerns about his father which were assailing his mind. If he was talking, he wouldn’t have to consider the probabilities.

“Yesterday sure was great, eh, Pop? Just like the way it used to be with Mom. Best Christmas Eve I’ve had in years.” He shook the cup of pills into David’s cupped hand and helped him lift the water to his lips to wash them down. Mara’s voice floated up the stairs, calling him down to help with the breakfast tray. “Hey, that sounds like breakfast. I’ll be right back.”

He met Mara at the bottom of the stairs and took the tray from her. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his. It seemed as though she knew something she didn’t want him to hear, which was cause for concern, considering Mara had never had issues expressing her opinions or thoughts in the past. Usually she chose a much more assertive path. His polar opposite.

“Is he awake?” she asked as they climbed up the stairs.

“Yes, but seems more tired than usual this morning. Much more than yesterday, for certain.” Her quiet sigh wasn’t lost on him. “Are you all right?”

She didn’t answer and appeared lost in thought.

“Mara?” The sound of her name brought her eyes to meet his gaze.

“Hm?”

“Are you all right? You seem –?”

“Yes. Sorry. I’m fine. Just thinking.” They reached the door, and she stepped through, pasting a cheerful grin on her face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Graham,” she greeted him brightly. The sudden demeanor change caught Blaine by surprise. With a careful eye, he scrutinized her. She was always mindful of her composure when she was around him, as if she believed her attitude could affect his life expectancy. Blaine had to give her credit. Her smile never failed when she was with his father, no matter what she was going through outside of this room.

Blaine set the tray across David’s lap, but he eyed it with little interest.

“Not hungry this morning, Mr. Graham?” Mara inquired, moving closer to him to check his pulse and other vital signs. He shook his head feebly. She was busy fussing over him, when he put his hand on her hand to settle her. She stopped abruptly and met his gaze. “What is it, Mr. Graham?”

He pointed a weak finger toward the dresser by the door. “Do you need something from the drawer?” she asked. He nodded, his breath ragged.