“Seth? Is that you? God, please tell me he’s okay.” Deb’s voice broke as she began to cry.
My heart pounded. I was angry at myself, and angry at Andy for putting me in this position. “Deb, he’s okay. I’m sorry, he begged us to take him . . . I’m sorry.” Who cared if I was sorry? It didn’t fix things. It didn’t give her more time with her son.
“How is he?” She wept.
“He’s deteriorated. Some days he’s better than others.” It felt odd saying that, considering he didn’t have very long left. Somehow, I knew the better days were behind him now. I could only see things getting worse from here, but I didn’t want Deb driving upset.
“Oh, God.”
“He has a nurse looking after him, but he really needs more.” I hesitated. “He needs a doctor, or a hospital, but he won’t. You know how stubborn he is.”
“Please tell me where you are, Seth. Please, I need to see him. I need to say goodbye.”
I closed my eyes. I so badly wanted to keep my promise to him, but if he died without Deb getting the chance to say farewell, I’d never forgive myself. I had no idea what to do.
“Please, Seth. I’m begging you,” she pleaded.
“Millicent Beach,” I mumbled. “22 Standbury Lane. He’s having a wake tomorrow.” I didn’t mention it was fancy dress.
“A wake?” She gasped. “Oh, God, thank you, Seth. Thank you so, so much.”
I hung up. Had I done the right thing? He would probably hate me, but no more than I’d hate myself if I hadn’t told her. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly six in the evening. She wouldn’t get here until tomorrow afternoon, even if she left now.
There was no point in telling him today.
***
As I walked through the kitchen, I saw Em lying down out on the deck. Grabbing two sodas, I went out. She looked up as I approached. She smiled, her eyes red and swollen.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Not great.” She reached for the soda I held out to her and set it down beside her. “He finally let Marta call for a doctor.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the unopened can in my hands. That meant things were bad.
“Are you okay?” I said.
She shuffled over as I climbed onto the cream-colored frilly cushion beside h
er. Of course she isn’t okay. I closed my arms around her as she sobbed into my chest. My fingers gently stroked her hair as my lips brushed over her forehead.
***
We stayed out on the deck for the next hour. She had fallen asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her because I knew that she hadn’t been sleeping well. I studied her face. Her eyes were closed, the faintest of smiles present on her lips. Was she dreaming about Andy? Whatever it was, at least for a moment she would be happy.
I glanced inside. I could see Marta talking to a man in the kitchen. The doctor? It had to be. My stomach tightened. Things must be bad for Andy to have let her call the doctor. If anything, at least I felt as though I’d made the right decision in telling Deb. I just hoped she got here in time.
Em stirred and then rolled over. I gently eased my arm out from under her, covering her with a blanket. She snored softly and snuggled into the warmth. I stood up, careful not to wake her, and crept over to the door. Easing it open, I walked inside. Marta and the man both looked up.
“How is she?” Marta asked.
“Exhausted. Upset. About what you’d expect. How’s Andy?”
The look they exchanged said it all. That bad.
“All we can do is make him comfortable,” Marta finally said. “This is Mike Alson. He’s a doctor in town. You . . . might want to call his family, Seth.”
“They’re already on their way,” I said. My mouth felt numb, like the words were sticking to them as I tried to force them out. “I might go check on him, if that’s okay.”