“Thomas, David and I broke up.”
He stared into my eyes. “Because of me.”
“No. Because of me. I made a decision that he didn’t agree with and couldn’t understand.”
He nodded. “You moved in with me. Meg—”
I pressed my fingers to his lips. “Don’t. You didn’t ask a thing of me. I’m here because I want to be here. And I won’t be with a man who can’t understand that you don’t just stop caring about someone you love.”
His eyes filled. “I hate what this is costing you. You should go back home and try to work this out with him.”
“No. I don’t want to. It’s over.” I wrapped my arms around his frail body. “I am where I’m supposed to be for now. I have no doubts about that.”
He hugged me. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You don’t, but you’re stuck with me.” When his body trembled, I released my hold. “We should go. It’s damp out here. I can feel the moisture soaking through my jeans.” I stood and offered him my hand.
He accepted and rose slowly. “Pancakes,” he said. “I’m dying for pancakes.” Then he chuckled.
I couldn’t appreciate his dark humor, but I followed him to the car and headed toward Denny’s restaurant—Thomas’s favorite breakfast spot.
~ * ~
I was scheduled to attend a conference on, of all things, Grief Recovery. Elena had been trying to get me out of the house for a weekend. When I told her about the conference, her face broke into a smile that had not shown itself for weeks, except with her grandson. “Absolutely. You should go.”
Even though he had seemed to gain some strength back, Thomas was not quite as enthusiastic. He’d come to depend on me. “Where is it?”
“Seven Springs. Only ninety-minutes away.”
“Can’t you go for the day, then come back home?”
“I could, but your mother will be here. It’s just a weekend.”
His eyes darkened. “Fine.”
“Thomas, what’s this about?”
He pressed his lips together and looked away. “I get scared when you’re not here.”
“Scared? Of what?”
He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I’m afraid I’ll die, and you won’t be with me.”
I lay down and wrapped my arms around him. “I don’t have to go.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “You do. And I’ll be fine until you get back.”
“No. Not if you’ll be anxious without me here.”
“Meg, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just, sometimes I feel so alone, especially when you’re gone. But I don’t have the right to put those demands on you.”
“Hey.” I tousled his hair. “I insisted on moving in, remember? You’re not putting anything on me.”
He looked away from me again, and I could see him struggling. “How can you do this so easily?”
“Who said it’s easy?”
“Again, I don’t deserve you.”
“Fortunately, when people love us, we tend to get more than we deserve.” I kissed his temple. “I’ll always love you, Thomas.”
When I reached the living room again, I called Kat, who was driving to the resort with me. We had decided to share a room to save money and make it a girl’s weekend away. “Hi, it’s me. We may need to take separate cars for the weekend. I’m not sure I can stay over.”
“Is it Thomas? Has his condition worsened?”
“He’s about the same. But he…he needs me more now.”
“Meg, he’ll be fine with Elena there. You, on the other hand, need a break.”
“I know. But what if…what if he dies and I’m not here.”
“You have no control over that. Meg, you could leave for the grocery store and be gone ten minutes, and Thomas could die. You can’t be there every minute.”
“I know.” I sucked in a breath. “He’s scared, Kat. And so am I.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“What is that music?” Kat asked.
“My cell. I need to find it.” I got up and fumbled in the pile of clothing I’d shed the night before. I extracted the phone from my pants pocket. “Hello?” I glanced at the clock—four a.m.
“Meg, I’m sorry to call you, but it’s Thomas. Elena called me. They rushed him to the hospital about an hour ago. I have Ryan with me,” Audrey said.
“Oh, God. Okay.” I blinked to clear my head. “I’ll be there right away. Thanks.” I snapped the phone shut and closed my eyes.
“What is it?”
“Thomas has been rushed to the hospital. I have to go.”
In an instant, Kat was on her feet. “I’m coming with you.”
“I can drive myself,” I insisted while trying to untangle my bra from my blouse.
“We only have your car here, and I’ll not have you driving back up here in a few hours to fetch me.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry.”
Twenty minutes later, we had checked out and were headed down the mountain through heavy fog. Kat had insisted on driving and leaned forward, squinting at the road ahead. “This is like driving blind.”
“Maybe we should have waited a few hours.”
“Once we get off the top of this mountain, we’ll be okay. What did Audrey tell you?”
“Just that Thomas was rushed to the E.R. and that she has Ryan.”
Kat wasted no time once we cleared the fog and a little over an hour later, we pulled into the emergency entrance at Mercy. “You go on in. I’ll park the car.”
“You don’t have to stay. Take my car, and I’ll get a ride home from someone.”
“Meg, I’m staying. Now go.”
I rushed through the open sliding doors and searched for Thomas’s family. A woman at the desk asked if she could help me.
“Yes, I had a call that Thomas Flores was brought in.”
“Are you family?” she asked.
No. “I’m his…wife.”
She directed me to a cubicle where I found Maria standing outside, her face streaked with tears. “What happened?” I asked.
“He had a seizure. Now he’s unconscious. It’s not good, Meg. My mother is with him.”
I slipped inside the curtained cubicle. Elena stood beside the gurney, holding Thomas’s hand. A doctor bent over him, lifting Thomas’s eyelids and flashing a light to check his responses. I inched closer to Elena and whispered, “How is he?”
She shook her head, and I put an arm around her shoulders. “He seemed fine at dinner. He laughed and played with Ryan for a while before bedtime. Then around three-thirty I heard a loud noise. He had a seizure and knocked the lamp off the nightstand.” Her voice caught.
The doctor finished making notes, then turned to us. “He’s in a coma. I have a call in to his personal physician. Do you know if he has an Advanced Healthcare Directive?”
I nodded. “He does. The hospital should have a copy on file.” I swallowed hard, aware of Elena weeping softly and bending to kiss Thomas’s hand.
“We’re monitoring his vitals. We’ll get him up to ICU as soon as possible,” the doctor said.
“Can we stay with him?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” He parted the curtain to exit the cubicle, and I glanced through the opening to see Kat standing with Maria.
Two orderlies arrived to move Thomas to the third floor ICU. One of them directed us to the bank of elevators that would take us there. I walked out into the hallway where Kat leaned against the wall.
She put an arm around me. “I’m so sorry. Do you want me to call David?”
I wished I had told her. This was not the time to tell my best friend I had deliberately withheld major information. I shook my head. “No. Not now. You should probably go on home. I’m staying here for a while.”
“Let’s go and have some coffee, get a bite to eat first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She looped an arm through mine. “Well, I am, and I need coffee before I d
rive another mile. Come and keep me company.”
In the cafeteria, I toyed with a mug of grey-looking liquid and told Kat about David.
She dropped her fork and reached for my hand. “I am so sorry.”
I met her gaze. “But you think he could be right? That I’m hanging onto Thomas when I should let go?”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all. You and Thomas have a friendship that transcends just about everything else the two of you have gone through. I envy you. You have to trust your own heart on this. No one has a right to judge you for doing so.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.” I pushed the coffee mug aside. “I have to go back upstairs. I’ll pick up my car later.”
“Call me when you’re ready to leave. I’ll come for you and you can drop me back at my place.” She shoved her plate aside and stood. “Much more of that food, and I’ll need a doctor.”
At the elevators, we hugged and parted as she crossed to the parking garage. I took in a deep breath, prepared to face the worst hours or days of my life.
~ * ~
The rest of Thomas’s family gathered and, for two days, we took turns sitting with him, talking, telling stories, singing—anything we could do that might give him comfort. Audrey took time off from work and cared for Ryan, and she and Preston had picked up my car and brought it to me. I took short breaks to run home for a change of clothes and to see my son.
I was ready to leave the house again to return to the hospital when Audrey grabbed my arm. “Meg, slow down. You’re flying around like a madwoman.”
“I have to get back to the hospital.”
“If anything changes in another ten minutes, someone will call.”
“I feel so guilty. Thomas didn’t want me to leave last weekend. I went anyway.”
She hugged me, rubbing my back in consoling circles. “Oh, baby. You didn’t know. I’m sure Thomas didn’t know, either.”
“I think maybe he did.” I kissed Ryan goodnight and said goodbye to Audrey. Ryan lifted his arms, crying, “Ma! Mama!” His little face reddened. And I was torn to shreds as I turned and walked out the door.
In the hospital garage, I parked in a visitor’s space and turned off the engine. My body felt weighted and I didn’t want to move. I slid my cell phone from my purse and flipped it open, dialing Kat’s private number.
“Hey, Meg. Has Thomas’s condition changed?”
“No. I needed a reason to sit here in the car and not go back inside right away.”
“I’m here when you need me. Or if his family needs someone to listen.”
“Thanks, Kat. I’ll let you know what’s happening. I should get back in there.”
“You sound exhausted. Take care of yourself. Where’s Ryan?”
“He’s with Audrey. I’ll talk to you soon.” I climbed out of the car, feeling as if my feet had been encased in cement, and trudged back into the hospital.
Two hours later at Thomas’s bedside, monitors began to bleep and ring. Two nurses ran into the room, ushering us all into the hall. A doctor swept past and closed the curtain. He came out a few moments later, a grim set to his jaw. “He’s going into organ failure.”
I pressed my fingers to my mouth. “No.”
Elena gripped Maria’s arm, and Maria eased her into a chair, soothing her in Spanish. Other family members huddled around. I wished I had someone to hold me up. I steadied myself and asked the doctor, “What does this mean?”
He glanced as Elena. “He’ll go into renal failure. His kidneys won’t be able to filter his blood. He’ll become toxemic. His heart will give out.”
“How long?”
“Probably a matter of hours.” The doctor shifted his weight. “We’re keeping him as comfortable as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be back shortly to check on him. The nurse will call me if there’s a change.”
If there’s a change. If his heart stops. I could barely breathe.
I used the restroom in the lounge. In the mirror, I saw a woman ten years my senior, looking worn, exhausted. I wanted to curl up on the cold tile floor, roll into a fetal position, and sleep. The door opened and Maria asked, “Are you alright?”
I followed her into the hall. “How’s your mother?”
“She’s praying the rosary in Spanish. I think she’s remembering when Thomas was born, the little boy he was—her son.” She stopped and faced me. “We all think it’s very kind of you and brave to stand by him after what happened.”
“I’ve learned it’s not as easy as one might think to simply un-love someone you’ve given your heart to, shared secrets with, made a child with. I love Thomas for who he is.”
We returned to keep vigil around Thomas’s bed.
An alarm on the heart monitor jarred me. I glanced at the green line on the screen, then at the clock. It was 4:10 a.m. The peaks on the monitor diminished, and the alarm flattened into a long, high-pitched scream. A nurse edged past to check for a pulse. She shook her head and turned off the offensive noise.
Thomas slipped away from us just eleven days shy of his thirty-third birthday.
We all sat in stunned silence until Elena’s muffled cry built into the heart-wrenching wail of a mother’s grief. I leaned over and rested my cheek on Thomas’s still chest. One by one, we kissed him goodbye.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Thomas A. Flores, age thirty-two, passed away on Wednesday, April sixteenth, following a brief illness. He is survived by his mother, Elena Maria Flores, his two sisters and brother-in-laws, five nieces and nephews, his former wife, Megan Ritter Flores, and one son, Ryan Thomas Flores. Visitation will be held on Friday, April 18 from 2 p.m. to 9 p.m. at the J.D. Miller Funeral Home. A mass of Christian burial will be held at St. Mary’s Catholic Church on Saturday, April 19 at 11:00 a.m. with internment to follow in St. Mary’s Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations are made to the American Cancer Society.
~ * ~
The day of Thomas’s funeral was the kind of day he had always loved—sunny, warm, with a gentle breeze blowing and clouds that took on the shapes of animals. He used to love to lie on the grass and point out figures in the clouds. I dragged my eyes away from the coffin and up to the sky. I imagined Thomas floating there, perhaps riding the cloud that looked a lot like a dolphin. I lowered my gaze and studied the sea of people gathered. Nikki and Kat stood beside Mrs. Dorinsky. I shook my head. The woman had no sense of boundaries. I had to smile at that thought. Audrey stood between Preston and Julian. Shay and Maurice were behind them, each holding one of the twins. A group of men and women I didn’t recognize collected off to the side—either from his work or from his other life. Maybe both. I continued to search for David, hoping he would be here. He wasn’t.
Would some of these people, except for Audrey, have attended Thomas’s funeral if I hadn’t stuck with him? I thought about the funerals I had crashed. What drew me there was a need to grieve. I wondered what drew these mourners here today—the ones who had nothing invested in Thomas.
Love. The need to love. Some of them loved Thomas. Some of them loved me. Some of them were here out of a sense of propriety and respect.
I sat flanked by my parents and Thomas’s mother. The priest began the service. Ryan fidgeted on my lap, and I let him stand and bounce. He shoved a fist in his mouth and, when he spied a butterfly, pointed with a wet finger and shrieked with glee. His innocence brought a smile to all of us. I kissed his cheek and watched with him as the butterfly swooped over Thomas’s casket then fluttered its wings and disappeared into the trees.
I remained seated under the canopy after the service ended. I needed to stay to the very last, to the point at which they lowered the coffin into the grave. I motioned for Audrey to come and take Ryan. Everyone headed back to their waiting vehicles.
~ * ~
On the day that would have been Thomas’s birthday, I stood before the mound of his grave, the ground not settled, not yet green with grass. With
flowers in one hand and Ryan holding my other, I knelt in the soft dirt, not caring if it stained my jeans. “Ryan, blow Daddy a kiss, baby. Blow kisses.”
He pressed his pudgy hand to his mouth and smacked his lips.
“Daddy loved you so much. He still does. Some day you’ll understand.” I reached forward and placed the small bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath in the permanent metal vase.
As I stood and lifted Ryan into my arms, he said, “Da, Da, Da.” My heart shattered.
I whispered to Thomas, “I’ll take good care of our son, always, Thomas. I hope you’re in a better place.”
A breeze ruffled through Ryan’s dark curls. He’d gotten the dark coloring from his father and, unfortunately, the curls from me. He was due for a haircut. The previous afternoon, a woman in the grocery store had mistaken him for a girl. I gazed into his deep brown eyes curtained by long, dark lashes. He grinned his father’s lopsided grin, and I smiled.
Thomas would forever be alive in his son.
I set Ryan down and clutched his chubby hand. He toddled unsteadily beside me as we climbed the grassy knoll to the car.
I had loved Thomas. He had been a friend, then a boyfriend, a lover, a best friend, a husband, and an ex-husband. All in the span of six years. We had seen the best and worst of one another. I would always have fond memories of him that took the edge off the hurt he had rendered. I had loved him, both because of who he was and in spite of it.
I glanced back at the roses waving in the breeze. It was as if Thomas was waving goodbye.
~ * ~
The End
ABOUT LINDA RETTSTATT
Linda Rettstatt is an award-winning author who discovered her passion for writing after years of working in the human services field. When she’s not writing, Linda loves travel, nature photography, and figuring out what makes people tick. Her fantasy is to win the lottery, buy an old Victorian home on the eastern shore and open a writer’s retreat. While she waits for that fantasy to materialize, she continues to live and work in Northwest Mississippi and to write under the constant observation of her tuxedo cat, Binky.
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