Dovetail(17)

“That Bill,” she said. “We’ve had our differences, but I never would have thought he’d let some quack shoot electricity through his own son’s brain. How horrible. It’s like torture.”

She saw her mistake then, the look on Joe’s face when she spoke negatively of his father.

He said, “He wants me to do it because he thinks it will help. It’s not that he doesn’t care. Just the opposite.” The boy was loyal. That was admirable.

“Of course.” Pearl spoke soothingly. “He just doesn’t know what else to do.” That did the trick. The boy’s face relaxed. She took a sip of her coffee. “So now you’re thinking you might stay?”

“Maybe. What would I have to do?”

“It’s very simple, really, but time-consuming.” She waved a hand around the kitchen. “You’ll need to empty this house and get it ready to sell.”

“You’re selling it?”

She nodded. “I have no choice. First of all, I no longer live here, and it’s pointless for it to sit empty. But even more important, the truth of the matter, Joe, is that I’m dying.”

The word landed right where she thought it might. His mouth dropped open slightly, incredulous. “Dying? But you look just fine.”

“Why, thank you. I expect I look fine to you because we’ve just met, but I assure you it’s true. I am dying; there’s no mistake. Lung cancer, that evil villain, is back. I had it nearly ten years ago. I had chemotherapy back then, quit smoking, and thought I had put an end to it, but it has returned. This time around, I decided I’m not doing chemo again. It was a horrendous ordeal, and I have no wish to repeat it.”

She thought of the chemotherapy she’d endured the first time around. She’d never known a human being could feel so terrible and still survive. One night she was so weak, she’d crawled on her knees to the bathroom, vomited, then lain on the bathroom rug until morning, too exhausted to get up. The doctors said chemotherapy had improved since then, but she still told them she wasn’t interested. Enough already. There was no use in prolonging the inevitable.

“The chemo bought me more time, but I’m older now and more tired. I just don’t want to do it,” she told Joe.

“Even if it means you won’t live as long?”

She shrugged. “I don’t want to die, but the truth is, we all die sooner or later.”

His brow furrowed. “No, that’s not right. I just met you. You and my father haven’t spoken in how long?”

“Decades.” Pearl took another sip of coffee. “Since he was about your age.” She very clearly remembered the day Bill left. He’d grabbed only a few things and then was gone. He wouldn’t listen to anything she had to say. “You’re despicable,” he’d said, right before the door shut behind him. She’d watched the taillights of his car as they got smaller in the distance. He’ll be back, she’d thought, but she was wrong. He never came back.

At first, she knew that he’d gone to live with relatives on his father’s side, but after that, there were years when she didn’t know where he was. It wasn’t until she hired a private investigator that she knew he’d put himself through college, started a career in finance, married, had a son, lost a wife, and then married again. He’d bought a house, gotten promotions, and gone on vacations, and she hadn’t been a part of any of it. She knew about Joe but lost the trail again when he’d last moved, so she never knew about her granddaughter, Linda. Not until recently, when she’d hired another investigator and called their house. So many years without a family. One mistake, and look what was stolen from her. With Joe here, she might be able to make amends.

Joe gave her a serious look. “Don’t you think you should patch things up with him, seeing as how your time is limited?”

Pearl regarded him thoughtfully. He was an adult in years, but in so many other ways, he was still so young. She’d made a few efforts to reach Bill, but he hadn’t answered her letters or those of her attorney either. The phone call she’d made recently was the first time she’d telephoned. She’d had to pay a pretty penny to get his unlisted number and almost couldn’t believe it when Linda had been so accommodating in answering her questions.

The boy was waiting for her answer, so she spoke carefully. “Patching things up would be ideal, of course, but life doesn’t always work out the way you’d like it to.” She kept going. “And here’s something you should know. It’s something you already know but probably don’t quite believe. All of us have limited time. I’m ancient and have a terminal case of cancer. You’re young and healthy. And guess what? You could get hit by a truck tomorrow, and I could live another three years. We aren’t guaranteed even one more minute. Babies die, and so do young people. No one knows who’s next. It’s very unfair.”

“I know that,” he said somewhat impatiently. “But still, I’m here now, and I’d like to know more about you and my father’s side of the family. If you’re willing to tell me.”

“Of course, and I’m very glad you’re here. Let’s start over. If we’re going to have these heart-to-heart talks, we should figure out a few things. For instance, what would you like to call me?”