Always the Last to Know(114)

And then one day, he wakes up on the patio, in the chair that lets his legs stick out straight. It is warm and his daughters and wife and his friend with the warm rain voice are all here.

This is his chance, he knows. It will not come again. He knows that, too.

He grabs the arm of the person closest to him. Juliet, his oldest, his perfect girl, and she jumps. “You!” he says. He forces his mouth and his brain to work together. “Poor,” comes out, the word tortured and heavy.

The women look at each other, confused.

“Pour?” Sadie asks “You want a drink?”

“No!” He looks at Juliet again. “Prow. Prow.”

There is a silence, and the word slips away, Juliet’s word, and John’s eyes are wet because she didn’t understand, and now the word is gone.

“Proud,” Barb says. “He’s proud of you.”

She knows. She knows! John nods and takes Juliet’s hand and kisses it.

“Oh, Dad,” she says, and her eyes are raining, which is not the right word, but he has made her happy and sad. It was her word, and he gave it to her, at last.

Sadie kneels in front of him and says words, but they’re blurring and tumbling in his head.

“Joy,” he says, touching her face.

“Joy,” she repeats, nodding. “Yes. Joy.”

His heart is so full, and his eyes are raining, too.

Just a little more now. The snow has held off, but the clouds are heavy with it. “Bar,” he says, and his wife comes closer. Sits on the chair next to him. She waits for her word, too.

Bathroom. The closed door. Crying. Sorry. I should have gone in and I didn’t.

But the words are too many and too hard.

“Rose,” he says. “Rose.” The flower word! He said it at last.

“That’s real nice, John,” she says, patting his hand, but she doesn’t know that this is the word that will set her free.

“No! Rose . . . Heel.”

Everyone freezes. The snow is coming, and is this why no one is moving? Just a little longer, that’s all he needs.

“Rose Hill?” says his friend, and he nods again, his head wobbling on his neck. He is an old man now. He closes his eyes just for a second.

“What do you mean, Dad?” Juliet asks. “You want to live at Rose Hill?”

He nods again.

“And not live here anymore.” She is clarifying, his older girl, and he knows that is her way.

He nods. Oh, he is tired now, but he forces his eyes to open.

Sadie’s face is crumpled and sad. Juliet is crying, yes, that is the word. Janet is smiling her nice smile, her rope-hair so tidy and twisty.

But there is one more word Barb needs to hear. One more word for John to tell her before the snow comes, because he knows the snow won’t stop this time.

“Barb,” he says, looking at her. He takes her hand, bringing it against his face. “Barb.”

Sorry. Forgive. Love.

“Divorce,” he says, and it is the right word.

They talk then, and he can hear their voices but not understand their words.

It doesn’t matter. He knows he made it. He said the words they needed, and they understand.

The snow comes, but it is warm and light, and he falls into it, knowing he has once again been a father . . . knowing that, for the first time in a long time, and for the last time ever, he was a good husband.





CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE





Barb


John was going to Rose Hill. There was room for him, and the facility took every kind of insurance and made up the rest of the cost, thanks to its endowment.

He wanted a divorce. Now, after all these years, when he needed me more than ever, he was divorcing me. I wasn’t sure I could go through with it, but . . . well, my eyes teared up every time I thought of it.

That thing men say when they’re cheating . . . that their wives don’t understand them. The real problem is, we do. And I did. John had said divorce to give me the last thing I wanted from him. When he’d taken my hand and said the words, something happened. He knew we’d failed at marriage, and he was letting me go.

Closure. They say you can never really have it, but here it was.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to file the papers, but my attorney had said we should discuss it. Financial reasons, that kind of thing.

Even if we did get divorced, I’d still look after him, of course. I wasn’t the kind of person who’d turn her back on a sick man after fifty years, no matter what he’d done.

We visited Rose Hill, and John hadn’t wanted to leave. It was a beautiful facility, and when I saw LeVon, I started to cry.

“I’m so glad he’s coming here,” LeVon said, hugging me. “I’ll get to see you all the time.” Gosh, what a comfort that was!

Janet was there, too, since she visited her brother four or five times a week. John’s face lit up when he saw her, and I had to shake my head. Leave it to that old dog to find another woman, even in his current state.

But I was grateful. I didn’t have someone else, of course, and I didn’t even know if I would ever want that. But for the first time in decades, I felt like my husband had really seen me and understood me.

LeVon had suggested easing John into life at Rose Hill, so one night, just before Memorial Day weekend and the big town anniversary, I drove John up there and got him settled, then left. It was harder than I expected, coming back to my quiet, lovely house.