She pulled into the driveway and began the long trek to her house. Dave’s truck was parked in front, and he was waiting in the driver’s seat. She’d forgotten to tell him she’d left the house unlocked, and he hadn’t tried the door. When he saw her car, he got out to wait for her, concern and relief overwhelming. After she parked the car behind his truck, he walked to her car door and opened it for her.
“So glad you’re okay,” he said.
She reached out for him, and they embraced. His arms around her felt comforting and safe. She was exhausted; he could see what it was costing her to try to stay in control.
“Let’s go inside. You can get a nice hot shower, and I’ll fix breakfast.”
“I don’t have any food,” she said, not meaning for her voice to sound whiney, but not being able to control it.
“No worries. I stopped at the Lion and shopped. My truck is full of food.” He put his arm around her as they walked to her porch.
When she was safely inside, he went back to his truck to unload it while she walked around her little house, noting that everything was exactly as she’d left it. It was good to be home. Her late husband’s grandfather built the house in 1880. They’d come over from Scotland, borrowing the money from an aunt to buy the farm land. Doug’s family lived in the cottage for twenty-five years, and then moved into what would become a rambling Victorian mansion off the farmland. After that, farmworkers and unfortunate family members were relegated to live in the cottage when hard times hit.
Alice turned the water on in the shower, and while she waited for it to get hot, out of the blue she remembered wondering why she and Doug had ended up with the cottage. His brothers were given property with cash to build a nice house. Instead, Alice and Doug were relegated to the cottage like a wayward cousin who was released from prison and had nowhere to go. He’d lived there before Doug and Alice got married. At the time, Alice felt privileged to have a place that was close to the family, until they were handed the mortgage. Family rumor had it that Doug was the black sheep, and Vicky suggested that the poor treatment of Doug was because he married Alice, and their family had a history with the Bradshaws.
“Mr. Bradshaw hated Daddy,” she said. “There was even a rumor that Mrs. Bradshaw had an affair with him, that one of their kids was really our half-brother.”
Alice was appalled. “It’s just gossip, Vick! Daddy would never stoop,” she said.
“Remember, it was before they were married. He had the opportunity, too. Daddy worked on the farm, don’t forget,” Vicky reminded her.
Alice thought of her husband’s family; he was the youngest of six children and the only one to die. His mother and father were still alive; Faye saw them every Sunday at church and often had Sunday dinner with them. She thought of Dougie, how sweet and gentle he was, and how he would have thrived on the extra attention. It didn’t make any sense that she’d start thinking of Doug’s family now. She hoped, selfishly, they weren’t going to show up at the funeral. Sure, Faye would call them; Alice decided to fight thinking about the Bradshaws.
She finished her shower and put a comfortable pair of pajama bottoms on and a T-shirt. Dave was finishing up making her breakfast, buttering toast and pouring fresh coffee. He’d fixed an omelet with cheese and ham, very non-vegetarian.
“Oh, that smells wonderful,” she said, starving.
“How was staying at the hospital?” he asked, concerned.
“Pretty awful,” she answered. “The boys will have to be told that Dougie is gone, but I wasn’t going to do it. Todd Junior was groggy and didn’t ask, but the baby did mention him. I can’t believe he’s gone.” She put her head down and cried.
Dave didn’t say anything, but he put his hand on her shoulder until she was finished, one more time.
“Try to eat something. And then you should lie down,” he said. “I have some work to do, so I’ll be occupied.”
She looked at him as she ate, grateful for his presence and his care. No one had ever taken care of her, except for Vicky who brought her tea when she was sick. She could get used to this.
“Okay, maybe I will lie down,” she said as she took her plate to the sink. “I’m sure my family will beckon me up to April’s later today.” Just as she spoke, the phone rang. “Prophetic.”
“Mom, Mom, are you coming back?” April cried. “I’m so upset, Mom! Please come back.”
“I am, honey. I was up all night, though, so I need to rest for a couple of hours, and then we’ll come back up. Is Todd’s mother there?” April said she was, that Todd’s family was planning a luncheon at her house later in the afternoon.
Alice tried to imagine what it would be like to walk into Mrs. Cabrini’s house. The family would know it was April’s fault that Dougie was dead. A tiny bit of pride and anger surfaced.
“Who’s we?” April asked. “Not the guy you took off with.”
“Yes, actually, that’s exactly who we is, dear.” She told April she’d see her soon and hung the phone up. When she turned around, Dave was there, watching her.
“I don’t have to go,” he said.
“Ah, I think you do!” April replied. “My daughter is not going to dictate to me who I can bring to my grandson’s funeral.”
Dave didn’t respond, worried about causing more pain for Alice. She walked back to her bedroom and shut the door.
Chapter 21
April woke up to the sound of Todd’s voice talking on the phone. She had a terrible headache, and in a few seconds, the horror of the day before came back at her in a flash; she started to sob. She sat at the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. Todd hung up the phone and went to the refrigerator, getting out ice to make a pack for April. Her eyes were almost swollen shut from crying all night long. He’d think she’d finally fallen asleep and then he’d hear her. It was rhythmic; she gasp as she remembered, and then the same sounds, “Aha aha aha,” over and over again. He wanted to leave the bedroom and go sleep in the kids’ bunk room, but knew how cruel that might appear. He was all about appearances.
So in the spirit of compassion, he brought her the ice and sat alongside her to apply it to her face.
“Your mother just called,” he said. “She’s exhausted, the boys were up all night, and now she wants us to come and relieve her so she can go home.”
“I don’t want to leave the house,” she said, taking the ice from Todd. “I know people are judging me! I don’t want to see the looks on their faces.”
“You don’t have a choice, April,” Todd said. “They’re our boys. It will look really bad for you if you don’t show up there today, soon. Keep that ice on your face, and I’ll make us coffee, but then we have to leave for the hospital. There’s no argument about it.” Instead of talking about his son, grieving for him and crying for the loss, they had to present a united front to those who would ultimately judge her in a court of law. He had to be strong for April, murderer that she was, drunken bitch. Todd got up and left the bedroom and started to cry himself. The anger he was feeling for his wife couldn’t be understood. He felt like a heel.
When he heard the shower go on, he dialed Bonnie’s number.
“Oh, Todd,” she cried, “I’m so sorry!” Here Todd could be himself, voice his sorrow, share his guilt of enabling April to be a drunk, and Bonnie would never betray him. They cried together on the phone until he heard the shower go off.
“I’ll text you later,” he whispered. “We need to get to the hospital. Kiss little Todd for me.”
When they walked into the children’s ward together, they saw Alice standing in the doorway, holding Mark who was sucking on a bottle, with Junior standing next to her, sucking on his thumb. April cried out when she saw her boys, and Todd began to cry quietly. The nurse came and put her arms around them, helping them into the room. No point in upsetting the whole wing. Alice didn’t waste any time saying good-bye, explaining about the rental car.
Todd was embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of those arrangements
for his mother-in-law. He whispered to her, “I’m sorry.”
Alice put her hand up to his face and subtly shook her head. “No need to be sorry,” she said, whispering. “It’s not your fault.”
When she left, Todd felt like their source of strength had just been cut off. He’d remember to tell her later, how Alice was always the one who personified stability to him. His wild Italian family expected their own to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. He would also remember to apologize for April’s shitty treatment of her mother.
After Alice left, and April tried to comfort her children, the extent of her anguish became clear to observers. If the nurses initially thought she was uncaring, now they were concerned for her well-being, asking the family’s doctor for a sedative for her. “Why wasn’t one ordered yesterday when this happened?” they asked. The truth was too painful; she wouldn’t be able to give her statement to the police if she was under medication, the police said no and her attorney had advised against it, a cruel and unusual punishment.
Now, however, she refused. “I need to be here for the boys,” she said. “I’ll take something later.”
The doctor thought the children would be stable enough to be discharged that morning, terrifying April. She didn’t know if she’d be able to cope. She called Faye after Alice said she wouldn’t be there until the afternoon.
“Things are really bad here,” Faye responded. “Bill moved out last night.”
April was suddenly furious. Couldn’t they postpone their marital bullshit until after Dougie’s funeral?
“Can you pull it together and get up here? I don’t know how much longer I can hold on before I collapse,” April said. “Mother will be here later, but she was up all night with the boys.”
Faye wanted to say no to her sister. She alone was responsible for the mess she was in, for Dougie’s death. Now everyone else was supposed to jump through hoops for her. Faye’s earlier resolve to be available to April, to support her through her anguish had disappeared. Her own sadness and regret overshadowed what she’d wanted to do for April. But she wouldn’t be that selfish.
“All right, I’ll head up there. It’ll be around ten,” she said and hung up.
She’d kept the kids home from school that day, and Bill Junior said he’d take care of things while she drove up north. She pulled off the highway to go into Wawa for coffee. The parking lot was packed, so she drove around to spaces on the side of building to park. While she was standing at the counter to pay, Bill’s pickup pulled in to the parking lot. Oh, good, I can ask him to check up on the kids later, she thought. She paid for her coffee and walked out of the store, smiling back at a handsome man who’d smiled at her. Hmmmm, she thought. She had to pass by Bill’s truck to get to her car and didn’t notice that Shelly Oaks was sitting in the passenger seat.
“Hey, I was going to call you,” she said. “I have to go up to April’s, and the kids’ are home alone.”
Bill leaned back, and that was when Faye saw Shelly for the first time. She froze. It took a few seconds for the situation to penetrate. Later, she would tell her sister it was surreal. She had a choice. She could stick her hand through the window and reach out to shake Shelly’s, or she could fly through the window to strangle both Shelly and Bill. The negative option would win out, but it would take its form in verbal insults rather than physical violence.
She looked at Shelly and then put a smirk on her face.
“Okay, I can see what you mean, Bill. She is sort of dumpy. And overweight. Oh, well, to each his own,” she said and sashayed away, holding her head up high and walking with just a hint of a wiggle around to the side of the building. She heard a door close.
“Faye! Wait, Faye, for Christ’s sake,” he said, running after her. He caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “That was a really shitty thing to say.”
“What do I care? You move out last night and today you’re with that cow? What a prick.”
“It’s not what you think,” he said.
“Oh, is that right,” she said. “I’m on my way to April’s. My nephew is dead, in case you forgot. I guess you aren’t going to be with us tomorrow, the kids and me, when we go to his funeral.” She unlocked her door and got in, putting the coffee into the cup holder. She pulled down the visor to check her face in the mirror and was angry that her skin was flushed.
“I planned on going with you,” Bill said. “Shelly and I just came up here to get coffee, nothing else. I’m doing her garage conversion, remember? It’s not what you think.”
She looked up at him, suspicious that he would repeat himself.
“You hurt her feelings, too.”
Oh, great, Faye thought. Now I’ve made Tubby cry. She made a move to get out of the car. She’d go back and apologize.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he said, stopping her.
“I’ll tell her I’m sorry,” she said. “Don’t want you to lose the job.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said. “You’ll just make it worse. Go on your trip, and I’ll stop by the house at lunch time.”
She looked at him, shielding her eyes from the sun, and the painful truth hit her. She really didn’t love him at that moment. She would be okay with him gone, even if it meant he ended up with Shelly Oaks. She really wanted to go back and talk to her, but would respect Bill’s wishes for a change.
“Okay, well, thank you. I’m not looking forward to this trip. If you can, try to gloss things over with Shelly. I am really sorry.”
Faye pulled out of the parking spot with Bill watching her, and she felt his regret. She was sorry their marriage had ended, it was such cliché. The memory of her affair with Vinnie washed over her, and she felt sick. Would she ever be able to forgive herself? She knew the angst resulted more from embarrassment over what a skank she’d been more than any moral conviction. Get over it, she said to herself.
When she got to Deptford, she called April’s cellphone. The boys had been discharged, and the family was at Todd’s mother’s place. Mrs. Cabrini was an attractive, fit sixty-year-old, but she was critical and unforgiving. It was no secret that she didn’t think April was good enough for Todd, and now that her drinking problem was confirmed, could barely hide her disgust. When Faye walked in the house, his mother tossed her head and turned her back. Todd finally told her to show some respect or they’d figure out a way to pack all the mourners into their little house. April seemed oblivious to the activity swirling around her.
“What’s wrong with her?” Faye asked Todd, concerned.
“Valium. The doctor gave her a prescription to get her through the next few days,” he said. “She cried all night.”
Faye imagined what it would be like if she’d accidently committed an act which led to the death of her son. It was unthinkable, driving her to compassion. She rushed to her sister and embraced her. The physical comfort of having the familiar arms around her brought April to tears, and then Faye succumbed.
“Dougie, my poor baby,” April cried. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Todd and his mother and sister crowded around her, crying along with her. The scene would repeat itself over again for the next twenty-four hours.
Beth would come alone, followed by Dave and Alice, and then finally, John and Lynn. The family would be together at last.
Chapter 22
John went to work on Friday. He was paid by the cases he did, and not working or leaving early like he did the day before was not good for his paycheck. His co-workers surrounded him with words of sympathy, and then everyone went to their OR rooms to begin the day. He set his anesthesia machine up, testing all the gauges and valves. The nurses came in to set up their instruments and supplies for the cases, and he was happy to see Karen there. She was an organized, knowledgeable nurse, and usually her presence guaranteed a good day for John.
But not today. She was annoyed with him about abandoning her the day before, and although she knew she was being irrational—his nephew had died, for
God’s sake—she couldn’t seem to help herself. She expected something from John, some commitment or at least acknowledgement that she was valued. As the nurses worked efficiently, making their preparations, her annoyance was growing exponentially. She was short with him, throwing supplies down and banging stainless-steel drawers so they closed with a crash. It took John a while to get it, to figure out he’d crossed a line with her, and his loss of sexual ability at a vulnerable time the afternoon before was going to come back to bite him in the ass. He tried ignoring her, concentrating with all of his effort on the patient lying before him on the OR table.
Finally, halfway through the morning, Karen lost it and began to cry and asked a coworker to take over her case. With relief, John saw her leave the room out of the corner of his eye, but it was short lived. About five minutes later, another anesthetist, a slender middle-aged woman named Grace, came in to the room, tying a mask up around her head.
“What’s up?” John asked as she approached him.
“Fred wants to see you,” she whispered.
John frowned behind his mask. He gave her the report for the patient and then gathered up his personal belongings and walked out of the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he was summoned to the senior partner’s office. As he walked down the corridor, he could hear sniffing and low voices, and then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Karen sitting in the director of the surgical services office, crying her heart out. The director, an older Chinese lady, was known around the hospital as a “devil in a lab coat.” Oh, fuck, he thought. She’d either have his balls or tell Karen to keep her private life out of the OR.
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