Words she had spoken to Edward filled her head. I hate you for what you’ve done. You’ve hurt me. More than that you’ve hurt these children. You took away their innocence. I’ll never forgive you for that. Her thoughts shifted to Inman. Would the children accept him after Edward had died? Would she even want to be with Inman and face that challenge? The cumbersome questions threatened to overwhelm her.
“Your father hurt me terribly,” Anna said, “but I’ve yet to divorce him.” Theo seemed surprise and yet not so. “That morning,” she explained, “the day I found out that he was sick and dying.”
“The day he agreed to the divorce, and your selling the house,” Theo interjected.
“Yes. That morning, in the meeting at Henderson’s office would have been our last time together.” Anna went on. “Your father had given me my freedom. He deeded me the house. I knew something was wrong. All through the meeting he didn’t seem himself. He was not the Edward I knew.” He was not the man she had loved and depended upon as a constant in her life. Neither was he the Edward Manning she had grown to hate. “I asked Henderson not to file the divorce agreement,” Anna said. “I haven’t told your sisters and brother.”
“Does Dad know?”
“Yes.”
Theo remained still with his hands on his lap.
“But you’re no longer wearing your wedding band.”
“It was all coming to an end. My world, the way I wanted it, had come as I requested. I was terrified,” Anna tried explaining her actions and the contradiction of remaining married but having removed the symbol of unending commitment. “I was also angry, still am, but—” Tears threatened to spill over. Her vision blurred.
“And what about when you learned Dad was sick and dying?”
Anna’s chest cleared and lightened. “It was strange. I knew somehow that I hadn’t lost him. And then when he agreed to let me bring him home, I ... I ... I felt hope.” Lines formed upon Theo’s forehead. “I have him now,” Anna said. But he’s dying. Now death is the other woman.” ?
Chapter 22
Anna was standing at the counter lost in the oblivion of cut ting carrots when the patio door slid open, and David entered. She laid down the knife. Torment and anguish filled his eyes. He dropped his bag, and approached the counter.
“How was the service?” Anna asked.
David slid onto one of the stools. A shadow of shame gripped her elder son’s face, for what Anna suspected was the way he had spoken to her three nights earlier. Anna proceeded to the refrigerator, took out some ham, bread, and mayonnaise. David needed distance.
“It was nice,” he said of his father-in-law’s funeral. It’s not what I want for Dad.”
“And Heather?” Anna was back at the counter. “Will she be coming here?” Anna was not ready to contemplate that far ahead. She began making a sandwich.
David tugged at his fingers then twisted the wedding band on his left hand. Emptiness hung in his eyes. “I think she wants a divorce.”
“Are you sure? What has she said?” Anna lowered the knife to the counter.
“She’s met someone. He lives next door to her father.”
“Who?” Anna pursued.
“His name is Rob. He helped Mr. Matthews during the early stages of the cancer by driving him to the oncologist and the chemo therapy treatments. He knew a lot of what was going on. He called Heather each week and gave a report. When the calls came more often, sometimes every day, she decided to come back and stay.”
“What makes you think she wants to leave you for him?” Anna finished making the sandwich and placed it before David.
“She’s tired.” David fingered the sandwich. Despair was written and etched in every curve and crease of his forehead, and face. “Her father’s death has taken everything she’s got.”
“Can’t you help her? Don’t you want to?”
David leaned back in his chair. “I work every day, bring home all I have, and give what’s left to Heather, Emily, and Josh.” Anna grew frustrated and angry. David sounded like Edward when Elena had been dying.
David started, “Now with Dad dying...” He furrowed his brows. “What is it you wives want from us?” His words again echoed Ed ward’s contempt during Elena’s last days. Yet David appeared sincere in his desire to understand.
“We just want a friend,” Anna said. The conversation had devolved to a variation on the theme of her conversation with Edward decades earlier. Anna felt trapped. Her eldest son, and child in whom she had put many of hopes, now held a need to know. David’s soul was seeking liberation and the peace that passeth all understanding.
Linda entered the room. With Serine gone, she had been up stairs all morning with Edward. “I think we need to call hospice.”
“What’s happened?” Anna said. David stood.
“Daddy says he’s really tired. He wants them.”
David went upstairs. Dread filled Anna against the glow of serenity draping Linda’s face. Theo, who had been outside by the pool, entered the kitchen through sliding glass door.
Linda lifted the cordless phone. “Dad gave me the number to hospice,” she said then displayed the crumpled piece of paper.
Anna started upstairs. Theo followed. He grasped her hand when she reached the landing. “I’m here if you need me.”
Anna patted his fingers then continued to Edward’s room.
The hospice worker’s visit that afternoon ran matter-of-factly, eerily so. Anna found it surreal as she watched Edward listen, and then speak with the woman about the services they offered.
“I don’t want to put my wife at a strain,” he said, “When the time comes that I can’t do for myself... “ Brad was already assisting Edward to the bathroom, and then waiting until Edward signaled he was ready to get back into bed. Unable to witness and hear any more, Anna stood and left.
In the downstairs study that used to be Edward’s office, David and Theo quietly discussed varied matters. Linda and Brad, for whom Anna envied their closeness, had gone for a walk. Of all Anna’s children, who would have thought Linda would become so stable in adulthood?
In the kitchen, Anna removed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. On the way to the table, she glanced at the pool. The sun was glistening upon the water’s surface. Moving through the sliding glass door, she stepped out onto the patio and lowered her self onto one of the cushioned chairs. She lifted her head and took in the awning that extended ten feet or so. Edward had installed it, saying, “Then you can sit underneath, and watch the boys swim up and down the pool.” Anna had spent many afternoons watching David and Theo swim the of the lanes of the pool, while she was shaded by the overhang attached to the home and hearth over which she held dominion, and within the kingdom Edward had established, guarded, and maintained.
Protected under that same measure, from the hot rays of a late September mid-afternoon, she now recalled Edward taking the children to swim lessons at the Oakland YMCA. On the weekends when he had not been away, Edward had walked, stopwatch in hand, alongside David and Theo swimming laps. The sun had beat upon Edward’s ruddy face and cast a tan that lasted long after Christmas, and into the heart of winter. His voice had been encouraging as David and Theo pulled on their strengths to reach the length of the pool and back.
Anna lowered her eyelids and tried to imagine the time when Edward would no longer leave for a business trip in Brazil, Greece, Egypt, and Panama during which he would extend his stay only to return home with an even deeper tan. Edward’s death would invoke a time when darkness would descend and he would be forever gone from Anna, the earth, their marriage, and the house.
Anna smoothed back tears, left the cushioned patio chair, and walked to the pool. Crouching at the edge, she lowered her fingers into water and considered going for a swim, one from which she would not return. The water would have transformed her through a baptismal of sorts. Arising from the waves she would experience resurrection with Edward.
Linda emerged from around
the corner of the house.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Brad accompanied her as they both approached Anna. Behind him came Inman. Anna’s heart raced. Linda’s eyes sparkled the same as when Brad, Theo, and she had led Matt onto the patio. Anna calmly stood and walked to Inman.
“It’s nice to see you,” she said.
Inman did not move to kiss her cheek. She smiled in thanks. “Linda, this is a friend of mine, Inman Hayes. Inman, this is my daughter, Linda, and her husband, Brad Oliver.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Inman smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Linda and Brad took turns shaking Inman’s hand. Anna had never spoken to her children of Inman. She mused on her future, the possibilities that stood distinct from probabilities, the hopes that she was frightened of holding.
“Can we offer you something,” Linda said, “Iced tea? Water?”
“Thanks. But, I’m fine.” Inman gave a slight wave.
Linda and Brad went through the open sliding glass door into the kitchen.
Inman’s gaze then slipped toward the house and settled upon a place that had become familiar to him over the past year. He had often met Anna there on Friday afternoons before or after she met with Elise when trying to sell the house. One time, he had asked Anna why she was in such a rush to sell the house. She explained that she needed money and that even though Edward had offered to pay alimony, the paperwork would take time. She wanted her freedom so she could move to France.
Inman had asked, “Is this your way of letting me down easy?”
“You can join me,” Anna had retorted.
“I’d love to.” Inman’s quick answer had surprised and frightened Anna. She had interpreted Edward’s absences and self-absorption as evidence of her flaws, that she was damaged goods. But things had changed. I was scared, Anna. I am scared. Never had she considered that like her, Edward held his own demons of self-loathing.
Elena’s words haunted Anna. Everyone needs affection. A show of love.
She loosened up on her walk toward the house with Inman. “I’m glad you came,” Anna said. He followed her inside to the kitchen.
“So this is how it was before.” Inman remarked on the old furniture replacing the rental pieces. The wonderment held upon his face seemed to ask if there was a place for him in Anna’s life, or if she was just using him to reach a more desirable destination.
Anna removed a pitcher from the refrigerator and poured him a glass of water. She put it on the counter near where he sat.
“I started to call,” Inman said. “And then, I thought someone might—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Anna said. Inman’s presence brought to light how much she had missed him and the person she became when in his presence. She rested her attention upon his eyes.
“How’s Edward doing?”
“It’s only been three weeks. Now, he’s upstairs talking with a hospice worker.”
“Death condenses time.” Inman sat his glass upon the table.
A sheath of guilt cascaded Anna. “I thought we’d have more.”
Inman’s lips parted. He was about to speak when Theo, followed by David, entered the kitchen. Inman stood. Again Anna made introductions. The differences lay stark between the way Theo and David greeted Inman.
Reserved and wary, David offered a light grip, while Theo, open and eager, gripped Inman’s palm between both hands. Unlike with Linda, Inman said nothing of having heard about them. Anna had spoken about her children to Inman. And he had talked of his daughter to Anna.
Inman glanced at his glass of water standing on the marble counter, then said, “I only wanted to check on you to see how all was going. Now that I’ve done that, I should let you go.”
Lightly, he kissed Anna’s cheek then hugged her, a fearful, yet welcomed surprise. Anna lost her breath on letting go. Inman’s cologne, a mixture of Japanese cherry blossom and spice had en livened her senses. Her breast tingled against his chest. She grew wet. The children, most specifically, David, would never understand.
Anna saw Inman to the door. On returning to the kitchen, she stepped through the sliding glass door and saw Theo and David sitting at one of the tables shaded by the awning. Both moved to stand on her approach. Their father taught them their manners. She waved her hand indicating for them to remain seated. Anna sat.
“I was saying to Theo,” David started, “—that since Dad is making plans with hospice, perhaps you need to speak with him about finances.”
“I’m sure your father’s insurance covers this sort of care. If not, then I know he has—” Anna said.
“We’re not talking about the cost of hospice. Somebody’s got to pay for the running of the house.” David surveyed the patio, the pool, and the house.
“There’s no mortgage,” Theo interjected as if to prove a point he had raised during their private discussion in the study.
“But I’m sure you incurred some costs with Elise trying to sell the house,” David said to Anna.
The house. The words filtered through Anna’s mind as she eyed Theo.
“We were just thinking,” David started again. Theo looked to Anna as if recalling what she had told him. I haven’t divorced your father. No one knows but you.
“I know what you were thinking,” Anna spoke. “But, I’m still married to your father. I haven’t divorced him.”
“I thought—” David started.
“I know what you thought. Perhaps more consideration toward your own marriage might help your cause. She stood and left. Anna was angry. But at what? She couldn’t quite decipher. It didn’t matter. Inman’s presence had renewed in her what the last few days with Edward and her children had drenched. Some parts of Anna were dying. Others were coming to life.?
Chapter 23
Days passed. The week ended and a new one began with David, Theo, Linda, with Brad hovering around Edward, seeing to his every need and allowing him, at least from Anna’s perspective, little time alone to contemplate his approaching death. While thankful for the children’s presence, she wondered how Edward might handle their leaving. David needed to get back to his law firm in Detroit.
Anna worried that he had not said anything of delays for getting clients’ work done. She had not seen him make one phone call back to the firm. Then again, he had his cell phone. Neither has she seen him at the computer checking his e-mails, nor had he mentioned needing to do so. Of Heather and the children, Josh and Emily, David had spoken little except for snippets concerning the funeral for Heather’s father, and his forgone conclusion of Heather wanting to divorce him for Rob.
As for Theo, Anna concluded that Millicent would keep the household going whether he was present or not. Only God knew what Theo would find on his return to Chicago. Anna was beginning to consider that it was perhaps a good thing that Theo and Millicent had no children. Yet David and Heather had Emily and Josh, whom Anna had not seen in a little more than a year.
Six months in her battle for the divorce, matters had crested to a point that Anna almost relinquished the need to sell the house. The week following an especially heated meeting in Henderson’s office—Bryce had pulled Edward from trying to punch Henderson Edward had flown to Detroit, and visited David and Heather. Anna had learned of the trip a week later when she received a call from David, during which David describing how Edward had played with Emily and Josh. Anna now surmised that Heather’s father would have been sick during this time. Edward too would have been undergoing chemotherapy. Had David known of Edward’s illness? And if so, how much? Why had he not said anything to Anna?
Edward’s words returned. I warned David not to sue Henderson. And trying to have you declared insane made it easier for me to give you what you wanted. I would never let him do that to you. David’s actions made me see who I was, what I had become.
Anna sighed as she pulled the sheets, towels, and pillowcases from the dryer. Two decades earlier, this kind of work had been one of the many banes of h
er existence, a necessary task for a mother of four. The amount of laundry dwindled as each child left for college. Anna’s loneliness rose with each departure.
She considered all that Serine had seen during those years while she had been the last at home; Linda was at Fresno State, and David and Theo were in graduate school. With Linda continually upon the edge of depression and anger, Anna had made constant trips to Fresno. During Linda’s junior year, Edward, having had enough of her outcries, removed Linda from school and brought her back to Oakland. Through some business connections he got her admitted into St. Mary’s College in Moraga. There on the campus of a college overseen by the 300-year-old Catholic order of the Christian Brothers, Linda had met Brad Oliver. He seemed to care little that depressive thoughts and a desire to commit suicide plagued her. In his mind, all Linda needed was love. And he would give it to her. Brad’s father, a psychiatrist, relished the idea of transferring to his soon-to-be daughter-in-law what he had for thirty years given his clients.
Linda’s voice pulled Anna from her tower of thoughts. “Mom.”
A familiar term, the word, Mom, had grown stale in Anna’s memory over the last decade. She both missed the nostalgia of hearing it, and experienced relief in the lack of its echo. At fifty-five, Anna Manning was growing old and selfish. Time for her, like Edward, was running out.
She turned to Linda. “How’s your father?”
“He’s resting. Theo’s with him.” Linda reached down for the basket of clothes. “I’ll help you fold them.”
The two went into Theo’s old room. Linda closed the door. The two sat on the bed. Anna started folding towels. Linda folded a pillowcase into a neat square and laid it upon the bed.
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