The Two-Family House(76)

“I just want him to talk to me.” Helen didn’t tell Sol how afraid she was of what Abe might say when he finally did speak, of what he might ask.

“He will, just give him a little time, is all.”

“Let’s just wait until Mort gets here. Then we can go. I don’t want to leave Abe alone.”

Sol patted her hand. “Whatever you want. We’ll wait.”

Helen was grateful for Sol’s support, but she wished he wouldn’t make himself so conspicuous at the hospital. After Abe’s condition stabilized, Sol had brought in a flower arrangement so large it wouldn’t even fit on the bedside table. The next day, he arrived with a ten-pound cookie platter, wrapped in colored cellophane and ribbons. Helen made him leave it at the nurse’s station.

Mort’s visits were peaceful by comparison. It was Mort who helped her navigate the maze of doctors and nurses handling Abe’s care. It was Mort who dealt with the paperwork and the endless hospital forms. If Helen ever doubted his devotion to Abe before the heart attack, she could not doubt it in the days that followed.

That evening Mort arrived a few minutes after eight. It was a Monday, and he had been at the office to make sure everything was running smoothly. All of the staff and customers had to be notified of Abe’s condition. Helen knew how little Mort cared for prolonged conversation with people, so she was not surprised to see him looking exhausted.

Sol stood up and shook Mort’s hand. “Listen,” he said, “I’m going to take Helen home for a little while. Let her get some things and grab a change of clothes. We’ll be a few hours, tops, but she doesn’t want Abe to be left alone. Will you stay until we get back?”

“Of course,” Mort answered.

“Sol,” Helen interjected, “I need to talk to Mort. Give us a few minutes?”

“Take as long as you want. I’ll get myself a cup of coffee.” He left the room, whistling.

Mort looked nervous. “Did the doctors find anything else? What’s wrong?”

“No, no nothing has changed. He just … he hasn’t spoken yet.”

“Sure, he has; yesterday he opened his eyes and said your name. We both saw it. And when the nurse asked if he was thirsty, he nodded and sipped some water from the glass she gave him.”

“I know he said a few words,” Helen backtracked, “but not even a real sentence. And then he fell asleep again.”

“Well, he isn’t fully awake yet. They’re giving him a lot of sedatives.”

“But he might start talking tonight, when I’m not here.”

“It’s unlikely. I just saw Dr. Marcus on my way in and he said—”

“I know. I know it probably won’t happen. But if it does, if he talks to you when I’m gone, I just…”

“What is it?”

Helen started to cry. “Before Abe had the heart attack, Rose and I were arguing in the coatroom. We were both yelling, and I’m not sure what he heard or didn’t hear, and…”

“Don’t worry. Abe’s heard the two of you argue before.”

“But that was why he got so upset, and then—”

Mort was firm. “Our father had his first heart attack when he was thirty-five, Helen. It runs in the family. You know that. It’s not your fault.”

She was grateful for Mort’s trust, but she didn’t think she deserved it. “Please, Mort,” she begged him, “if I’m not here and he starts talking, please keep him calm. The doctors say he can’t have any stress.”

“I’ll take care of him. I promise.”

“I know you will. You’re a good brother.” Only later did it occur to Helen that it was the first time she had ever told him that.

*

When Sol pulled into Helen’s driveway, the whole house was dark. It didn’t feel like her home. Other than the sound of Sol’s breathing, everything was quiet. Natalie was with Arlene, and the boys were all at Harry and Barbara’s place. She was at a loss.

“Want me to make you some scrambled eggs?” she asked Sol, once they were inside.

“Two days sitting in the hospital, and you think I drove you home for you to make me eggs?”

“Of course not, but we’re here and you must be hungry.”

“How about you go upstairs and take a shower and I make you eggs? How about that?”

Helen laughed for the first time since the wedding. “You’re going to cook for me?”

“I know my way around the kitchen.”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry and you should go home.” When he protested, she opened the front door and practically pushed him through it. “I’ll call you if I need you. I promise.”

Upstairs, the silence overwhelmed her. She turned on every light in the hallway and her bedroom. What if Abe knows? Does he think I’m a monster? Will he want to tell the children?

She went into Abe’s drawers and made a small pile of pajamas, socks and underwear to bring to the hospital. She forced herself not to think while she showered and dressed. But afterward, when there was nothing else to do, when she had run out of tasks to complete, she lay down on the bed and turned toward the place where Abe should have been. She lay there, blanketed in remorse, until she fell asleep.