The implication was clear. She didn’t want him with her. Her wandering eyes, which refused to look at him, irritated him. He pinched her chin with his thumb and forefinger and turned her face toward him. With steely blue eyes, he looked into the guilt-ridden depths of hers. His mouth went thin with anger. Over her head, he spoke to Eliot. “Take care of her. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. We’ll cut this short and I’ll be back by the day after tomorrow.”
“Okay,” said Eliot as Erik closed the door behind him. Kathleen sat on the bed again, staring at her hands, her shoulders slumped. She had neither the mental nor physical fortitude to do more than that. She was moving only by commands.
Eliot walked over to her and said, “Kathleen, let’s go.”
Without carrying more than her purse, she left the room with him. The trip back to San Francisco she never remembered. Kathleen did as she was told, but thought of nothing except her husband lying in a hospital bed in critical condition while she had been loving another man on a tropical island. She deserved to be punished, but why had God selected Seth instead of her? Hadn’t Seth suffered enough? Why was he the recipient of the retribution she deserved?
She wanted to go straight from the airport to the hospital, but Eliot refused. “You look like something out of a monster movie, Kathleen. Seth’s gravely ill, and your appearance will do nothing to make him feel better. When you go in to see him, you should be looking like the goddess he believes you to be.” By his words, Kathleen knew that Eliot didn’t think of her as such, but she was too concerned about Seth to care at that moment what Eliot thought of her.
She was glad she had consented to go home first when she looked at herself in the mirror. She did indeed look like something out of a nightmare. Hurriedly, she bathed, washed her hair and twisted it up neatly, and applied a minimum amount of makeup.
Theron, of course, was elated to see her. She hugged him fiercely but played with him only a few minutes. He began to wail mournfully when she gave him back to Alice and left with Eliot. Her son’s crying broke her heart, but her first priority now was her husband.
Hazel was standing sentinel outside Seth’s ICU. Her expression was venomous as she watched Kathleen approach. “You took your time,” she hissed. “Personally, I had hoped never to see you again, but Seth will be delighted that you have arrived in time to watch him die.”
“Where is the doctor who’s treating him?” Kathleen asked, ignoring Hazel’s cruel words.
“He’s in there with Seth.” She turned her back to Kathleen and moved away.
Kathleen leaned against the wall weakly. Eliot, who hadn’t left her side except for the time she was dressing at home, took her hand and squeezed it between his. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I acted like a real sonofabitch.”
Kathleen smiled up at him. “You acted like the true friend you are.” She shut her eyes briefly and said quietly, “Besides, I deserved no lighter judgment.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Kathleen. You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have. I sensed something, but when I asked him about it, he wouldn’t tell me.” She sighed. “I should have insisted. I should have been here.”
“You’re here now. That’s the important thing.” He hesitated a moment before he asked bluntly, “You’re i
n love with Gudjonsen, aren’t you?”
Quickly, she looked up at Eliot. “How… how did you know?”
He smiled. “When two people conveniently disappear for two days and come back looking as guilty as you two did, it’s rather obvious what they’ve been doing. And as pure of spirit as you are, you couldn’t screw… pardon me… you couldn’t make love to someone you weren’t in love with. Am I right?”
“Yes, I love him,” she said softly. “But I love Seth, too. Only differently, you know?”
Eliot hugged her to him. “Yeah, I know. Ain’t life grand?” All the bitterness in the world was concentrated into his words.
The door beside them opened and George came out followed by a balding man whom Kathleen assumed was the doctor.
“Hello, Kathleen,” George said kindly, and took her hand. She wished everyone would stop treating her with such kindness. She didn’t feel that her recent behavior warranted it.
“Hello, George.” She found when she tried to speak that her lips quivered uncontrollably.
“I wanted to tell you months ago,” George said. “I urged him to tell you, but he didn’t want to worry you. He’s been very sick.”
“I know. I thank God he had you to take care of him. He wouldn’t let me,” she said.
“Mrs. Kirchoff, I’m Dr. Alexander. We’ve spoken on the telephone, but never met. How do you do?” He made no effort to shake her hand and she didn’t offer hers to him.
“Hello, Dr. Alexander. How bad is my husband’s condition?” Where had she acquired that calmness of voice? She didn’t feel it inside.
The doctor’s eyebrows lowered over his nondescript eyes and he studied his shoes. “I won’t pretend that it’s anything but critical. He’s known for some time that his illness is terminal, but he refused to let me do anything about it.”
“Why?” she cried. “If there’s something—”
“You should discuss this with your husband, Mrs. Kirchoff.”