Look at Me Now by Thomas J. Hubschman

Author:Thomas J. Hubschman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: women, spousal abuse, marriage, family relationships, starting over, relationships and women, womans sexuality
Publisher: Savvy Press

XI

I Ride the Broadway Local Again

Tuesday, March 28

Tim Davis is in the hospital. Kevin called me at work, an “opportunistic infection,” he said. He’s being treated with antibiotics but hasn’t responded so far. Needless to say, Kev is in a funk, and I’m not doing so well myself. Kevin didn’t say so, but I know he thinks I should pay his father a visit. I keep telling myself there’s not much a man can do to me from a hospital bed, especially if he’s as sick as Kevin says he is. But telling myself this and believing it are two different things. I never expected to lay eyes on my husband again, at least not willingly, and certainly not under these circumstances. He’s always been the healthy one, while I seemed to come down with every virus that was making the rounds. He used to make me tea and toast, boil a chicken for soup, even feed me with a spoon the way Sarah our maid used to do when I was a kid. And then jump into bed beside me, but how can you say no to a man who’s lavished such kindness on you? Especially since I usually wasn’t as sick as I thought. I would even start thinking that life with him wasn’t so bad really, how many men would make chicken soup for you and feed it to you on a spoon? But of course as soon as I was healthy again he would revert to his overbearing ways. Or after a couple days of TLC leave me with my tea and toast to slip out for a bit of fun with some Columbia grad student.

Do I owe it to him to visit him now when he himself is sick, really sick? Does he even want to see me? Kevin is no judge of this because he isn’t thinking any more clearly than I am. However badly the man has treated him, Tim Davis is still his father, the man who used to take him camping and to Yankee games, not just the monster who refused him dinner until he had memorized one of St. Paul’s epistles. Even so, the boy is just starting to get his own life together and doesn’t need this kind of agitation.

“Why not wait a day or two, see how it goes,” I told him. “You spoke to him today?”

“This morning.”

“And?”

“He sounded weak but not, you know... I’d just feel better if one of us paid him a visit. Just looked in to see how he really is.”

I tried to assure him the antibiotics would start kicking in any time now and that his father would be his normal self again in no time. But I only half-believed it. I was thinking about that fellow who created the Muppets who died of some sort of freak infection when he was not much more than fifty. People die by the tens of thousands every year from infections they pick up in hospitals, never mind the ones they come down with on their own.

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