The only people left at the party were Clara’s closet friends: Edna, Millie, Bernie, Amy, Parker, Susan, Tess, Steph and Rosa. They were giving each other covert looks while Mabel regaled them with yet another story, this one about Clara and a vibrator. They waited until the story was over. Mabel saw the look. She stood and clapped her hands. “Bath time,” she announced.
It was Clara’s wish to have a candlelit bubble bath with Mabel. They used to do it when they were much younger and a whole lot sprier. Clara was going to need help in and out of the tub. They’d chosen Susan as the helper because she was the doctor and had seen more naked bodies than she could count. “I don’t want you all to have a lasting image of an old, wrinkled, naked lady with cancer getting into a bathtub,” Clara had explained to the others.
Susan would help get her in and out of the tub and then would have to leave, allowing Clara to administer the drugs to herself.
Mabel went into the house and prepared the bath. She added Clara’s favorite lavender bath salts and bubble bath. Amy noticed that she looked red around the eyes, but no one commented. She thought back to her mother dying and she’d hadn’t been nearly so brave. Parker told her that Mabel’s breakdown would come. She was holding out long enough to send Clara off to a place where pain and sickness were no longer.
“It’ll come,” Parker had said. “Believe me.” And Amy did believe her. Parker had made her way through the maze of grief when her grandmother had died.
Clara took a deep breath and said to Mabel, “Come on, my sweet.”
Mabel smiled stoically. They all did. Mabel grabbed the handles of Clara’s wheelchair and pushed her up the ramp into the house. Susan went with them. A few moments passed then they heard the music of Pink Floyd on the stereo coming from the bathroom off the master bedroom.
“Odd choice of music,” Steph said. She took a big swig of her hemlock cocktail.
“I’m driving,” Rosa said, putting her hand out for Steph’s keys.
Steph dutifully handed them over, saying, “In that case, I’ll have another.”
“Actually Pink Floyd is an excellent choice. It has just the right mood for this,” Parker said.
Amy leaned her head on Parker’s shoulder. Parker had taken Clara’s cancer hard in the beginning, but seemed to manage the finality of the disease better than the rest of them. She was the rock of their group of friends.
Millie and Bernie sat quietly holding hands without talking. They seemed to be in their own world and nobody wanted to disturb their thoughts.
Tess studied her hands as they lay in her lap.
“You okay?” Rosa asked.
Tess nodded a tiny bit. “I’m worried about Susan. She’s really not okay with this.”
“Most doctors aren’t,” Parker said.
Susan walked back outside. The storm door banged behind her. “It’s looks so beautiful in there,” she said. “I guess if I had to choose how to pass on, I’d do it like this.”
Susan looked as if she were handling it all very well…until she sat down and burst into tears. Tess gave Parker a “told you so,” look.
Edna handed Susan a tissue. “It is for the best. I know people always say that, but this time it’s true.”
Susan nodded glumly and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to be inured to death,” Susan said.
“Nobody is. I’m glad we aren’t,” Parker said. “It’s what makes us human.”
“You’re right,” Susan said.
“I don’t want to be right. I want you to understand the compassion about what we’re doing here,” Parker said, looking at Susan without blinking.
Suddenly, Mabel called out from the bathroom, “We’re done. Clara needs her knight in shining armor to rescue her.”
“If only I were a knight,” Susan said.
***
When the entire group of friends entered the bedroom, Clara was dressed in black silk pajamas, her back propped up against the bed pillows. Mabel wore matching pajamas. “Looks like a slumber party,” Mabel said.
“In a manner of speaking, that’s exactly what it is,” Bernie said.
They all crowded in a semicircle around Clara in bed. Millie noticed the little cup of pills and a glass of champagne sitting on the night stand. “Champagne? You got the good stuff, too,” Millie observed.
“Might as well go out in style,” Bernie added.
Clara patted the bed beside her and looked at Susan. “Come give me a hug and then get on your way,” Clara said. Susan sat on the bed next to Clara.
“I love you. You’ve been a good friend. Thank you for being such a good listener and all the times you made me laugh,” Susan said. She looked deep into Clara’s eyes. “If you…”
“I won’t change my mind,” Clara finished.
Susan sadly nodded. She got up, gently touched Clara’s shoulder, and left the room.
“Better get over here and give me a hug,” Clara said to Tess. “She’s going to need you tonight.”
Tess reached down and hugged her. “I’ll take good care of her.”
“I know you will. Now off you go.”
Tess took one last look at Clara like she was memorizing her face. She left.
Millie quickly hugged Clara, saying, “I can’t stay one minute longer. I love you too much.” She turned and quickly walked out of the room.
Clara said to Bernie, “Go help her, Bernie. Be strong for her.”
Bernie nodded. “Goodbye, Clara.”
“Goodbye.”
Bernie walked out the door after Millie.
Parker sat on the bed. Clara said, “I’m so sorry I won’t be at your wedding or see the baby. I wish I could’ve lasted just a bit longer, but I just can’t, dear.”
“I know,” Parker said.
“Ah, hell, Clara,” Mabel said, “Turn into a ghost and stick around a bit.”
“Mabel…” Clara admonished.
“Don’t Mabel me. I’ve heard of dead people hanging around. Wouldn’t kill you to try and stay around long enough to see the wedding and the baby,” Mabel said.
“All right, I’ll try,” Clara said, laughing lightly.
“Good, that’s all I’m asking. Tell whoever is in charge that you’ve been waiting a long time for this wedding and baby and you’d like to see it.”
“I’m sure the boss will be very understanding,” Clara said.
“Now, the rest of you get on with your goodbyes. We’re going to have one last bounce on the bed.” Mabel wagged her finger at them in a warning gesture, adding, “No listening in.”
“Okay…then,” Steph said.
They each hugged Clara in turn. Amy was last. Clara touched her belly. “I know you will be a great mother. Bye, little baby,” she said, and kissed Amy’s tummy. Amy willed herself not to cry. She barely managed to keep it to a sniffle and kissed Clara’s forehead.
Awkwardly, they all stood staring at Clara. Finally, Mabel piped up, “For the love of god, give it a rest. I’ll have a death mask made and give you each one.”
“Mabel!” Clara admonished.
“Only you,” Steph said. They all chuckled and left Mabel and Clara for their one last bounce on the bed.
***
The friends milled around the kitchen, too nervous to sit. Edna made tea. Amy looked up at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick by slowly. “This baby needs to come out soon,” she said, putting her hand on her belly.
Rosa laughed, “You might not be wishing that when she’s keeping you up all hours of the night.”
“You might want to stuff her back in there,” Steph joked.
“She’s keeping me up all hours now,” Amy said.
Edna chuckled. “That they do,” she said. She set the teapot on the table along with cups. “We’ll have a nice cup of tea and check on them in a half an hour, just like Susan said.”
“We don’t want Mabel spending too much time with the body. It’s not psychologically healthy,” Parker said.
At that moment, Mabel’s voice growling, “Omigod, yes!” echoed from the bedroom. The hallway made an excellent megaphone.
Rosa tried not to smile, pressing her lips together, which only made the situation more amusing. Amy clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling giggles.
“Oh, you girls, just have a good laugh and get it over with,” Edna said. She poured the tea and tried to look serious. It wasn’t working. A giggle escaped her lips.
That broke the tension and soon they all laughed until they were crying and wiping away tears.
After the laughter faded, they silently drank their tea. Long minutes ticked by.
At twelve-thirty exactly Parker stood and said, “It’s time.”
“Who’s going to go in first?” Steph whispered.
“I don’t think we all need to go,” Edna said. She pointed at Parker. “You should go.”
No one objected. Parker seemed the logical choice because she was Parker—sensible, kind, to the point.
“You okay with that?” Steph asked.
Parker nodded solemnly. She straightened her shoulders and walked out of the kitchen.
***
There was no sound coming from the bedroom—no crying, no keening, just an eerie silence. Parker tapped gently on the door. No answer. She opened the door slightly. “Mabel?”
Still no answer. In the dim light, she could see Mabel and Clara’s bodies on the bed, wrapped around each other. The covers were pulled up, but she could see Clara’s bare shoulder. Parker steeled herself.
She saw Mabel’s robe draped over the end of the bed, right next to Clara’s. So, they’d had a plan. They would make love, Mabel would put on her robe and then Clara’s for decency sake. Good plan, Parker thought. Except Mabel had fallen asleep and not carried the plan through. Parker considered leaving her alone. What did it hurt to let them be together a bit longer? She quietly approached Clara and put two fingers to her carotid artery. She was gone.
Looking over at Mabel sleeping, curled up against Clara’s back, made Parker want to weep. Then she noticed something. Mabel wasn’t breathing. She had a small smile on her face. Parker moved closer. “Mabel?” she said softly.
Mabel didn’t stir. Parker watched the covers closely to see if Mabel’s chest moved. It would be just like Mabel to pretend to be dead to scare them all. Parker imagined her leaping up, holding the sheet to her chest, exclaiming, “Fooled ya!” Only she didn’t. Parker knew no one, especially an old woman, could hold her breath for that long.
On the nightstand next to Mabel was a pill bottle. Tipped over on its side. Empty. Next to it sat the empty champagne bottle.
Parker walked around the bed to the other side, reached out and pressed two fingers to Mabel’s carotid artery. She pulled up the sheet and tucked them both in like they were sleeping children. She slowly walked back to the kitchen.
Everyone’s expectant face looked at Parker. Parker nodded.
“Where’s Mabel?” Steph asked, looking past Parker. “Is she okay?”
Parker took a deep breath and steeled herself.
“Parker? What’s wrong?” Amy breathed
“Mabel’s gone, too,” Parker said flatly.
Steph jumped to her feet. “What d’ya mean she’s gone?”
“I mean she’s dead,” Parker said. “Go see, if you don’t believe me.”
Rosa and Steph ran for the bedroom. Parker followed in their wake. Amy stayed in her chair in the kitchen. Edna grabbed the edge of the table for support.
In the bedroom, Steph examined Mabel. “She is dead.” She saw the empty pill bottle. “They’re going to want to do an autopsy.”
“They’re not going to autopsy her,” Rosa snapped. “There’s no need. She died happy. Let her be.”
“She did die happy. Look at that smile on her face,” Parker said. “You know, they refer to having an orgasm as the ‘little death.’”
“Is now really the time for a Wikipedia moment?” Steph said.
“Be nice,” Rosa said.
Steph threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m calling Susan. We’re going to need some help here.” She left the room.
Parker and Rosa gazed down at Clara and Mabel. “I hope I go like this,” Parker said.
“Me, too,” Rosa said.
Steph walked back to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Edna’s expectant face.
“Well?” Edna asked.
Steph shook her head sadly. “She’s gone. They’re both gone.”
Edna abruptly stood. Her chair crashed over backwards. She ran out of the kitchen, the back door slamming behind her.
There was silence, then loud, heartbreaking wails sounded from the backyard. Amy and Steph ran to the window and looked outside.
Edna was collapsed in the middle of the yard, her face in her hands, sobbing.
“She loved Mabel,” Steph said.
Chapter Sixteen
“Mabel would’ve loved this,” Parker said.
It was Amy and Parker’s wedding day. Amy wore a dress that narrowly walked the line between school marm and pregnant saloon girl. “This isn’t a good look for me,” Amy said. “We should’ve gotten married before I got so enormous.”
“In hindsight, yes, we should’ve,” Parker said. She kissed Amy’s exposed shoulder and made her way up her neck and nibbled on her ear.
“I will not be distracted by your seductive ways and your handsome demeanor,” Amy said. “I’m still enormous and I’ll still be waddling down the aisle.”
“This is a good lesson in not procrastinating,” Parker said. She was shoved back by Rascal who’d managed to squeeze his way between them. He looked up at them both with complete love and much tail wagging.
“No slobbering on the dress,” Amy said, stroking his velvety ears. “And yes, you look handsome, too.” Rascal was dressed in a bow tie and a white tuxedo shirtfront that Steph had found online. It looked like a dog harness dress shirt. Rascal was the ring bearer—another one of Steph’s ideas. She’d taken one of his beloved rubber balls and inserted the wedding bands. The plan was that Rascal would carry the ball down the aisle and hand it off at the appropriate time.
“I’m not going to wear the gun belt,” Parker said, studying it in the mirror. She adjusted it low on her hips.
“Why not?” Amy asked.
“Because I don’t like guns,” Parker said. “I know it’s what Mabel wanted, but...”
“They’re plastic guns,” Amy said. “Toy guns that shoot foam pellets.”
“It’s the idea of them.”
“A gunslinger without guns…” Amy said. Suddenly, she reached over and snatched one of Parker’s guns out of its holster. She aimed it at Parker and fired. She nailed Parker right between the eyes. She blew on the barrel of the gun and said, “Damn, I’m one helluva shot.”
“Oh, you think so?” Parker said, whipping out her own gun.
Amy screamed and waddled away as quickly as she could. Parker went after her. Rascal barked and scrambled after them as they ran for the living room. Amy knelt and hid behind the sofa. Parker came around the corner with Rascal at her heels. Amy peeked her head up over the back of the sofa and fired. She missed, tried again, and this time nailed Parker in the shoulder.
“You’re gonna regret messing with Pistol Parker,” Parker said in a thick Texas drawl. She dropped to the kitchen floor, hiding behind the kitchen cabinets. She peeked around the cabinets and fired. Not hitting anything, she then crawled her way toward Amy and the couch.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Amy said. She popped up from behind the couch and shot Parker again. She nailed her in the arm.
Parker rolled behind a chair. She quickly grabbed the seat cushion and, using it as a shield, fired over its top. She succeeded in nicking Amy’s ear.
“That was a good shot,” Parker gloated.
“For a girl. What kind of gunslinger ar
e you? A fat pregnant lady is kicking your ass,” Amy teased.
“I resent that,” Parker said. She fired again.
Rascal barked madly, running between the two of them. They were so engrossed in their game, they didn’t hear the tap-tap on the screen door.
“What’s going on here?” Steph said, opening the door. At that same moment, Parker dove for the couch. Amy shot, missed, and nailed Steph right in the nose.
“Hey,” Steph said, batting at her face.
“Sorry,” Amy said. She stood up.
Parker saw her chance and got off one last shot, hitting Amy straight through the heart.
Amy looked down at her chest. “I’m dead.” She would’ve fallen to the floor for her death scene only she wasn’t sure she could get back up—not without a lot of assistance.
“I’m supposed to be picking you two up and you’re having a gun fight,” Steph said.
“I’ll be needing my gun back, ma’am,” Parker said.
Amy handed it over with a warning, “No shooting at the wedding. Maybe the reception.” She smiled wickedly.
“May I ask why you’re having a shootout at on your wedding day?” Steph asked.
“Parker wasn’t going to wear her holster, so I was persuading her that guns can be fun.”
“For crissakes you two, this is a serious day,” Steph scolded.
“When did you lose your sense of humor?” Parker snapped her fingers, saying, “Oh, you must have left it in your truck.”
“I didn’t bring the truck. I’ve got Rosa’s car.” She pointedly looked at Amy’s swollen belly. “There’s no way we’re going to get her into the truck without a crane,” Steph said.
Amy’s eyes widened, then she burst into sudden tears and ran for the bedroom.
“Good going,” Parker said.
“What did I do?” Steph said, alarm spreading across her face like an ink blot.
“She’s already sensitive about waddling down the aisle and then you make her sound like we’re transporting an elephant to the church.”
“Oh.” Steph looked at Parker. “I hope it’s not bad luck to make the bride cry before the wedding.”
Cross Your Heart Page 20