26 Transitions

The strains began to show almost immediately. I got us set up in a trailer park and rented a car for grocery shopping and other errands. After that all I had to do was look after Mac and kill time. I wasn’t cut out for that kind of life.

He knew I wasn’t happy. He wanted me to get a job. I looked around. Put in some applications. But I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone for long periods of time. Junior and Ann had looked into contracting for a private duty nurse. But they didn’t follow through. They could take their time as long as I was there to do the job. I suspected they would try to put him in a nursing home if I got a full time job.

I thought about pushing Mac to go back to St. Louis with me. I could get us set up at St. Elizabeth’s. But he was happy being near his kids and grandkids even if they were busy. He complained about them. He also sympathized with them. He knew from experience what trying to juggle a full-time job and a family was like.

Ann was trying to work things out. She came over to visit with her father so I could have some time to myself. Her daughter, Berta, was available if I needed somebody for a couple of hours in the afternoon or evening. But I got the impression that she and Mac ignored each other when she did come over. He let me know that he’d rather be alone than have his granddaughter babysitting him.

Ann got me into her book club. Then she decided to give me a baby shower. I was reluctant. I told her I didn’t want to leave Mac alone. She gave me a list of sitters. Mac heard about it and insisted I had to go.

When the day came, I wanted to back out. Mac was insulted that I didn’t trust him to take care of himself for a couple of hours. We were still talking through it when Berta showed up to drive me to the party. She called from the car. I kissed Mac good-bye and marched out to join her.

She was chatty and nervous. Chauffeuring an adult was a new gig for her.

Ann was a great hostess. Her friends were welcoming. I had met most of them through the book club. We ate, sipped wine, and talked about Melbourne. Where to shop. Where to dine. What to avoid.

The party was just getting good when someone knocked. Ann rose and went to see who it was.

I felt the room temperature drop when she opened the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall dark woman, black tresses with streaks of silver cascading over her shoulders. I turned to face her. Her eyes bore into my soul. She spoke in a soft contralto voice. “I must speak with Mrs. MacGregor.”

The words hit me like the shock wave from a bomb blast. A weird feeling swept over me. I found myself  looking down on the room. The woman said, “Katherine.”

I heard somebody scream, “No.”

The woman at my feet was shaking her head. Her hands covered her face. “Katherine,” the voice called again and I found myself sitting. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “No,” I cried.

“Katherine, you must come with me right now.”

I stood and walked to the door. Tereza took my hand and pulled gently. “We have to go,” she urged.

I tagged along behind her to a red Malibu parked at the curb. She nudged me into the passenger seat. I sat stunned, unable to move. She fastened the seat belt around me. Once we were under way, I forced myself to breathe. Tears ran down my cheeks. I wiped them with the backs of my hands. “He’ll be so furious when he finds out I cried.”

“It’s all right,” she assured me.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s resting peacefully.”

“Peacefully?” I shrieked. “He’s dead. Isn’t he?”

“He’s at peace. No more suffering. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes.” I shook my head. “No. I wanted him to hold his son. That’s the one thing that kept him going.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you call and warn me?”

“I was delayed. I called to make sure you were with him but no one answered.”

I searched frantically for my phone. I had figure out why I didn’t hear it ring. It wasn’t in my purse. For some reason I’d left it behind. I never walk out without it. Except this time. I must have set it down after the call from Berta.

I stared out the window as we rolled through a pleasant neighborhood with trees and well-manicured lawns hinting of paradise. “I should have been there with him.”

“Perhaps it was better that you weren’t,” Tereza suggested. “If you had been there, you would have moved heaven and earth to hang on and he would have fought because he loved you so much. This way he let go and there was nothing anyone could do about it.”

Tereza beat me to the RV and held out her hand for the keys. She opened the door. I peeked in. Mac was a few feet away sprawled on the floor staring at me.  “Mac,” I shouted and bolted up the steps.

He didn’t move. Not even his eyelids. It was a death stare. I raced to him and knelt to check for a pulse. Nothing. No heartbeat. His skin was cold and rubbery. I pushed his lids shut and kissed him on the cheek.

I crawled onto his back and wrapped my arms around him. Nothing. The tears started again. I could feel myself getting angry and then furious. I pounded on his back and raged, “You fucking bastard. You should have let me stay here with you.”

Tereza pulled me to my feet. “We have to go back to the car and let the police handle this.”

A blinking notification light caught my attention as I staggered out of the RV. My phone was on the counter by the sink. I guessed Mac had gotten up from the sofa to take Tereza’s call, took a couple of steps and collapsed. I reached for the phone but she grabbed my wrist and pushed me out of the camper.

As soon as we were back in her car, she called 911. “I just brought my friend home from a party. When we went into her RV, we found her husband lying on the floor.”

She shook her head. “No. He isn’t moving. He doesn’t seem to be breathing.”

She nodded as she listened. “I think he may be dead. Please send someone out to check on him.”

##

I sat with my face buried in my hands. Elbows digging into my thighs. The ambulance took a while. I don’t know how long. I had enough time to remember every detail of my life with him – from our first meeting to our last kiss.

A soft tap on the window brought me out of my reverie. A honey-brown brunette wearing a blue blazer over a white cotton sweater and jeans stood beside the car.  I opened the window. She leaned closer. Her gray-green eyes were icy pools. “Mrs. MacGregor, I’m detective Sue Williams,” she said. “I know this is a bad time but I need to ask you some questions.”

The words made no sense. It was like my brain had been replaced with a soupy fog. I heard myself say, “Okay.”

“Can you come over to my car? Please?”

I followed her to a black Chevy Trailblazer. She opened the back door and climbed in behind me. “This must be quite a shock,” she began as she opened a notebook. “I understand you found your husband lying on the floor when you got back from a party.”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“And Ms. Ivanova brought you back from the party?”

“Yes.”

“Was she with you at the party?”

“No. She came to the door and asked for me.”

“Are you good friends?”

“I’ve only talked to her one other time. It was a phone call.”

Williams paused to jot something in her notebook. “But you left a party with her.”

“My husband knew her. I trust her. Besides I was sure there was something wrong with Mac.”

“Why was that?”

“He has – had  — stage four brain cancer. I have known for some time that he was near death. I didn’t want to go to the party but he insisted.”

“Why wasn’t someone with him while you were away?”

“That’s the way he wanted it.”

“Sounds careless. Negligent.”

“I suppose. Mac knew he was going to die. He refused to let that dictate how he lived. It was like a religion for him.”

Williams grimaced as she made notes. She looked up scowling. I said, “He knew he wouldn’t live forever. He wasn’t going to try. He insisted that his last days had to be as normal as possible.”

“So, it wasn’t a complete shock when you walked in and found him dead?”

“It was a terrible shock. I don’t know how you wouldn’t be shocked if you found someone you loved lying there dead.”

“You’re right. Finding a dead body is a shock.”

“I have watched many of my patients die. That is not at all like losing someone you love.”

“Patients?”

“I’m a nurse. I have worked with elderly patients in a senior care facility for the last ten years.”

“Brookdale?”

“No. I’m on a leave of absence from St. Elizabeth’s in St. Louis.”

“I think you are going to have to elaborate on that.”

“It’s a long story and I want to have a lawyer. Can you give me a couple of days to recover and find a lawyer?”

“Why do you need a lawyer?”

“Because you are asking a bunch of questions that I’m uncomfortable with.”

“I should take you in.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“What you did put him in danger.”

“Is your job dangerous?”

“Sometimes.”

“Has that ever made you think about changing careers?”

She shook her head. “You have a wedding band,” I observed. “Does your husband try to stop you from doing your job?”

“It’s not up to him,” she huffed. “He knew what I did and what it involved when he married me.”

“That’s exactly what Mac would say if he could talk right now. He couldn’t choose when he would die. But he had the absolute right to choose how he lived.”

I pushed the door open and walked back to Tereza’s car.