The Parting Gift(32)

Mara opened the drawer and pulled out two small packages wrapped in brown paper. Blaine recognized one of them as the one he had helped his father wrap a few days earlier. The same day they had visited his mother’s grave. David gestured for Mara to bring them to him, and then struggled to sit up further in his bed. Blaine supported him as Mara adjusted his pillows.

His breaths were labored, and his voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. They both leaned in closer to hear his words.

“Mara, your gift to me was grace. I was angry and bitter and a wounded soul. You didn’t let me waste away like that. You gave me a second life. Thank you.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she continued to smile at the dying man. He held her gaze a moment in silence.

When he turned toward Blaine, a knot formed in his chest, threatening to squeeze all the air from his lungs. “Son,” his voice rasped. Blaine remembered how he had reacted to that name when he had first arrived. “Your gift to me was forgiveness. My heart’s one wish. You reached past the years of pain and took my hand in spite of all my mistakes.” With his free hand he reached out and took his son’s left hand in a frail grasp.

“I know you would give me anything I asked for, but these are the only things I can take with me where I’m going.” He fell in to a weak coughing fit. At the end of it, he gave each of their hands a light squeeze. “I do ask one more thing,” he whispered as he sucked in another labored breath.

“Name it, Pop,” Blaine replied. He could feel the emotion building in his throat. Mara nodded her assent beside him.

“Promise me,” David started, then his voice seemed to catch behind another series of coughs. “I don’t want you to be angry about me dying.” Blaine shook his head.

“It’s gonna be fine, Pop.”

“I know. I know.” A big smile broke across his thin, frail face. “I get to see my wife today. I get to be with Emily.”

Blaine’s heart skipped a beat at his father’s words. “It’s okay, Dad. We don’t begrudge you that reunion.” He slipped his right arm around Mara’s shoulders for comfort. Her tears were flowing unashamedly now, though her smile was ever-present. To Blaine, her smile was like the sun shining through the clouds while it was raining. A perfect recipe for a rainbow. A promise of a future. Even here at the side of his father’s deathbed.

The packages were still lying on top of David’s blankets. He released his hold on their hands and took the packages from his lap. He handed one to each of them. “These are the gifts I want to give you… One for each of you… But I think… you’ll find… they may go together… someday.” His breaths were shallow now. “I love you both,” he sighed.

“I love you, Pop,” Blaine whispered. Mara nodded. Her emotion had rendered her mute still, but she leaned over and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. Her tears stayed behind on David’s face. He smiled, and then closed his eyes. His breathing was ragged and shallow. Mara slipped her hand into Blaine’s. He could feel her trembling beside him.

When David’s chest rose and fell for the last time, they stood together hand in hand for what seemed like an hour. Neither of them spoke. Beside him, Blaine could hear her whispering a faint prayer, commending his father into God’s hands. He closed his eyes too. He remembered his mother’s funeral. When they buried her, he stood beside her grave and whispered a prayer too. He had asked for God to take care of his mother. He had asked Him to set her up in a fine house, so that when he and his daddy joined her, they’d all be happy together again.

The picture in his mind made him smile. They’re together now – his father and his mother – having a picnic under one of God’s maple trees, just like they used to.

“I have to call the doctor,” Mara interjected shakily.

Blaine looked at her and nodded, as she released his hand and reached to pull the sheet over David’s head.





Chapter Thirteen





“When was it?” the doctor asked, eyeing her over the top of his reading glasses while filling in a form.

“Eight thirty-six,” Mara answered. Her heart was still aching. All she wanted to do was to go to her room and cry for a while.

“I think I have all I need.” The aging doctor took off his glasses and slipped them into his jacket pocket. “I want to get back to my family. My wife has been slaving over a new dish. Roast goose. Should prove interesting.” He chuckled to himself and then seemed to check his humor after looking at Mara.

“I’ve called Mr. Fisk. He will be here within the hour to remove the body.” He glanced at his bag and put the folded papers inside. “I know you were attached to Mr. Graham, Nurse Crawford.”

The emotion rose in her throat, making it impossible to speak. The doctor reached across the kitchen table and patted her hand with his thick fingers. He stood to leave, but as he stepped out the door he turned again and almost as an afterthought, reminded her, “I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but with all the things happening today, I feel it is important to remind you…” He tilted his head in a gesture toward Blaine who was out on the back porch pacing. “Is there somewhere you can stay tonight? We’ve overlooked it to now, because Mr. Graham was in the house. But the hospital policy on this living arrangement – you can’t stay here alone.”