This Shining Life by Harriet Kline

Author:Harriet Kline [Kline, Harriet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2021-06-22T00:00:00+00:00

Marjorie

She did not draw attention to Gerald’s tears. She moved around the bed, pulling the sheet straight where it had bunched against Richard’s chest. She was wearing the necklace, hidden under the collar of her blouse. The beads were warm against her neck and the silver hand tapped at her heart as she leaned over to wipe a crust of dribble from the corner of his mouth.

She had been afraid she wouldn’t know what to do—that Gerald would start swearing at the doctors, or that she would faint and require medical attention. But all that happened was that she cried the moment she saw him. She was luckier than Gerald in that respect, she thought. There was no shame in her shedding tears. It had been the sight of Richard’s forehead that set her off. His brow was too prominent with his curls damp and crushed against the pillow. All the laughter lines at his eyes had sagged away and he looked old and exposed. The shock of it rose up in her, a buoy bursting the surface of the water, and her tears came, hot and gushing. Afterward she felt clear-headed. The shock was gone and in its place came a flood of warmth and kindness. She wondered if Gerald felt a change in himself, now that he had wept too.

Richard’s breath rasped in the oxygen tube.

“It’s all right, darling,” she said to him, resting her palm on his sternum, just where the silver hand was resting on hers. “You can breathe more gently.” The rasping died away, and his breaths seemed to slow. She did not remove her hand. In the years since he’d left home, their only physical contact had been brief embraces in greeting and farewell. Now, the heat in his skin felt like a blessing. She felt holy as she leaned into him, listening to the shushing of the sheets as his chest rose and fell, but she was not thinking about God, or where Richard might be going: it came to her, like a revelation, that she must be with him when he died.

There was a tap on the door and Ruth peeped around. “We’ll come back in a moment,” she whispered, but Marjorie beckoned her in. Nessa shuffled behind her and she saw that their faces were wan.

“When did you last eat?” Marjorie asked. They exchanged astonished glances and they spoke together.

“That maggoty apple.”

“My appetite is gone.”

Something slipped to the floor from the chair beside her. It was a black vest, powdery at the armpit. She retrieved it and folded it into a square. She noticed that Ruth’s lips were dry and Nessa’s eyes shrunken and sore.

“Let me get you something from the café,” she said to them, stowing the vest in the bedside cupboard. She had booked a hotel for the night, certain that she’d be exhausted after the drive to the hospital and the shock of seeing Richard so close to death. Now exhaustion had never mattered less. She beckoned the girls closer and reached for their hands.

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