The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2) (23 page)

After he died, she’d still sit here. I’d come by and sit with her as often as I could. We’d drink hot chocolate and she’d tell stories about my grandfather. I came by one day and let myself in. The window was opened, and she was talking out loud to no one. I’m not going to lie, I thought she lost it.

I sat down next to her and asked her if she was alright. She laughed, the first laugh I heard from her since my grandfather died. I was a little conflicted, happy to hear some joy… and afraid she was going off the deep end. Anyway, there was a pigeon, just sitting there, on the window’s ledge. Apparently this pigeon came to visit her every day.

She made me purchase bird seed so she could feed him. I figured I’d humor her and did what she asked. She started calling the pigeon ‘Leonard’… you know, after my grandfather. She was convinced it was my grandfather visiting her, making sure she wasn’t entertaining other men. This bird would keep her company day in and day out. It comforted a lonely widow who missed her husband. She claims that when she’s gone, she’ll fly away with him. It got to the point, where I was looking forward to seeing the bird.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

Ben leans back in his chair and sits quietly, lost in his thoughts. I place my hand on his thigh and rub it up and down, to comfort him.

We sit quietly for ten, fifteen, could be twenty minutes, for all I know. What the clock says is less important than time itself. For the first time, I see the distinction. Time together, however long that is, in whatever form it takes, is all that matters.

My mind wanders, watching the Park— green, lush and full of life— when I’m startled by a pigeon landing on the ledge.

“Grandfather, this is Julia,” Ben says, smirking.

“Very nice to meet you, Mr. Martin,” I say, smiling at Ben and the bird.

This is the first genuine smile I’ve seen from Ben all day. And it’s lovely.

The pigeon looks at me, its neck jerks back and forth then it coos. My eyes widen and I startle in my seat. Okay, that was a little weird.

Ben laughs. “Freaked you out?”

“No offense, But your grandfather is creepy.”

“He’s lonely. Pigeons mate for life. He’s waiting for my grandmother.”

“Creepy and Morbid. You come from a fascinating family tree. Any other flying relatives I should know about?”

I suspect Elizabitch occasionally flies on a broom, but I’ll keep that to myself.

He laughs, turning his attention back to the pigeon who’s busy pecking at the pile of birdseed.

“How do you know you’re getting the same bird? These pigeons all look alike.”

“See the three iridescent rings circling his leg. That’s how I know.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know what to believe. In the past fifteen minutes, I learned my boyfriend’s grandfather is a rat with wings. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Such a skeptic.”

“I’m a New Yorker. I was born a skeptic.”

“You’re from New Jersey,” he corrects me.

“Once you pay taxes in New York, you’re a New Yorker and thereby allowed to make such claims.”

He takes my hand and kisses the back. “Thank you. You made my grandmother smile. You made today bearable for me.”

I smile and lift his hand to my lips and kiss it. We watch Leonard the pigeon finish his meal. Once he’s done with the pile of birdseed, he bows his head to Ben and flies off.

~o0o~

Ben walks out of his grandmother’s bedroom into the living room, where I’m sitting on the couch waiting for him, holding a book.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the book.

“And you’re in the publishing industry,” he jokes.

“I know it’s a book,” I say, rolling my eyes. “What book is it?”

“Oliver Twist,” he answers softly. “My grandmother used to read this to my father when he was a boy, then read it to Elizabeth and me when we were kids. I found it in her room. I’m not sure why it was out.”

“Maybe she wanted you to find it.”

He sits down next to me with the book in his hand. You can tell this book is an antique by the weathered brown leather cover and binding and shiny gold gilded edges. There’s a distressed leather strap and clasp that holds the book closed. Ben opens the book and takes a breath. You can tell this book was well-read, the yellowed pages are curled slightly at the edges with a few dog-eared at the top. This book was loved.

He stares down at the book and exhales a long breath. I’m sure his thoughts are flooded with memories. I rest my head on his shoulder.

“My grandmother used to say that words printed in a book are just words. But once you sit down and read them, they turn into magic.”

“Would you like to read some to me?” I ask.

“Okay.”

I close my eyes and listen to Ben read. His voice steady one second, wavering the next. I make it a point not to look at him; to let him relive the book without feeling he has an audience watching his reaction.

“You must not talk about dying,” he reads aloud, his voice cracking. I glance over at him. He’s misty eyed and silently staring at the page in front of him.

I snuggle in closer, as close as I can get to him without sitting on his lap.

I turn my gaze away from him. It feels intrusive, staring at him in his private moment. He leans his head against mine, closes the book and we sit in silence.

Chapter 12

I’m sitting at my work desk, editing the second book in a zombie-clown killer trilogy series when my cell rings. Hearing Ben’s ringtone, I grin and answer it.

“Hello, handsome. No sexting today? What have I done to deserve an actual phone call? Dirty talk during work hours?”

“Julia… my grandmother,” he says quietly, his voice cracking. “Can you come to the hospital? Things took a turn last night. I know she’d want you here.”

“Oh God. Yes. I’ll be right there,” I say, my knee starts bouncing up and down.

“Okay… as quick as you can.”

“I’m leaving right now.” Tears are already rolling down my cheeks, my hand shakes uncontrollably.

“I have to go. I’ll see you when you get here,” he says and the phone line goes dead.

I feared this day was coming, but hoped I was wrong. Oh God, poor Kitty. Poor Ben, this has to be destroying him.

I gather my bag and cell phone and knock on Vivian’s door, never waiting for her to answer.

“Vivian, I have to go. Ben’s grandmother…”

“Go. Go.” She nods, waving her hands, gesturing for me to leave.

“I don’t know when I’ll...”

She cuts me off. “Julia, just go. Give Ben my best.”

“Thanks.”

I tear out of the office and push the call button for the elevator.

“Come on. Come on,” I growl at the closed steel doors. I press the call button five more times. “Get here already.” Finally the elevator pings and the doors slide open.

Once the elevator reaches the lobby, I dash out then leave the building. Frantically waving my hand in the air, I try to hail a cab while simultaneously running in the direction of the hospital. Finally, I flag a taxi.

“
Saint Andrews Hospital. Please hurry.”

As the taxi driver zips through the streets of Manhattan, I rummage through my wallet, praying I have enough cash to cover the ride. I unwrap a crumbled Starbucks receipt at the bottom of my bag and find two singles with caked-on powder blush from my opened compact. Dammit.

A moment of clarity hits me when I remember my emergency cash stash. I unzip the small pocket where I keep my tampons hidden and find a twenty dollar bill. Thank God. I’m good. The last thing I need is the cab driver calling the cops on me for not paying my fare and slowing me down.

I have to calm myself down. I can’t walk into Kitty’s hospital room in a frenzy. Desperately trying to remember the breathing techniques for relaxation I saw on TV by some famous yoga instructor, I close my eyes. I inhale deeply through my nose and exhale through my mouth a few times, searching for Zen or inner peace or whatever the fuck you call it. I’m too wound up. It’s not working. Come to think of it, maybe that was Lamaze I was just practicing. I don’t know. I think my brain has stopped functioning.

Finally, we reach the hospital. I pay my fare and run in the building. After going through security, I make my way to Kitty’s room. Standing at the door, I take a few more deep breaths to calm my nerves. Do I knock? Just walk in? I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I certainly can’t text Ben and ask.

A nurse passing by the room recognizes me from the other day. “Just go in,” she assures me.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” Slowly, I push the door open. Everyone in the room turns their heads in my direction as I enter. Ben’s parents are seated in two chairs beside Kitty’s bed. Dick is holding Kitty’s hand. It’s the first sign of human decency I’ve witnessed from him. He looks beaten, like he’s aged ten years. And for as much as I hate some things he’s done, I can’t hate him now. He’s watching his mother die and that’s heartbreaking.

Ben’s sister is standing next to them; her eyes are puffy and red. My secret friend, Stuart, is standing in the far corner of the room, fussing over the floral arrangements.

Kitty is lying in her bed, her eyes closed, sleeping. I guess. I hope. Ben is standing at the foot of the bed. He walks over to me, placing his hand on the base of my back and without saying a word, leads me to the side of the bed opposite of where Dick and Beverly are seated.

The IV stand is no longer there. The tubes connected to her arm are gone. There’s only a heart monitor and Kitty peacefully asleep.

“You can say hello. She may hear you,” Ben whispers.

I nod, leaning down. “Hi, Mrs. Martin. It’s Julia,” I whisper, placing my hand on her forearm.

Her eyelids flutter and she opens her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at me.

“Remember what I asked,” she whispers so low, it’s barely audible.

I nod, tears brimming in my eyes. “I’ll take care of him. I promise.”

A weak smile curls up from her mouth and she closes her eyes again. I take a step back as Ben takes my place, leaning close to her, gently placing his hand on top of hers.

“So much of me is because of the things you taught me,” he says softly. “I still need you here. There’s so much more to learn.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers weakly, her eyes still closed. “It’s my time to fly.”

He nods his head minutely. “I love you.” He kisses her forehead and stands, walking to the foot of her bed and faces her.

~o0o~

The room is silent. Somber. Grim. I glance at the heart monitor and watch her heart beating slower and slower with each passing minute.

Glued in our spots, we watch her take fewer and fewer breaths. Stuart walks across the room and wraps his arm around Elizabeth’s waist. She curls into him.

Ben is still standing stoically at the foot of the bed, watching her. Expressionless. Numb, I suppose. I stand by his side and glide my hand up and down his arm. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t acknowledge me.

He doesn’t need to.

For the next hour, my eyes scan between the heart rate monitor, Kitty, the family, and Ben. Her heartbeats are visibly slower and fewer. The room is still and silent. Beverly rests her hand on Dick’s thigh. He looks at her and nods slightly, bringing his attention back to his mother. Elizabeth’s head is leaning on Stuart’s shoulder. He tightens his arm around her waist.

Ben hasn’t moved. He’s just watching her. Occasionally peeking at the heart monitor, studying the less frequent blips then redirects his attention back to his grandmother.

Kitty’s eyelids flutter; opening her eyes, she gasps. “He’s here,” she whispers then exhales a short breath, closing her eyes once more with a smile left on her lips.

And just like that…

She’s gone.

Chapter 13

I sneak a quick look at the heart monitor. There’s one long continuous flat line. I keep hoping a sudden blip will appear, and she’ll come back to us, but the straight green line remains.

Beverly rests her head on Dick’s shoulder and dabs the corner of her eyes with the handkerchief in her hand. Elizabeth turns into Stuart’s waiting arms as he holds her, rocking her back and forth while she silently weeps.

Ben stands motionless at the foot of her bed, staring at her in almost a catatonic state. I’m not sure what to do. Do I leave him alone and give him space or comfort him? He’s not giving me any clues.

Finally, I squeeze his bicep to let him know I’m here. That snaps him out of wherever his thoughts went. He takes my hand and laces his fingers in mine. We stand at the foot of the bed, looking at his grandmother, lying in front of us, breathless and still … reunited with the love of her life… who came for her.

Just as she knew he would.

~o0o~

After a long while, eerily silent, a nurse enters the room asking if there’s anything anyone needs. Beverly shakes her head, and everyone gathers their things to leave.

“I’m going to call the funeral director to come and retrieve her. You’re welcome to come back to our place,” Dick says quietly.

“Okay,” Elizabeth chokes out. Stuart still has his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, as she leans into him.

Ben unlaces his fingers from mine. “I’m going to head home. I’ll call you later,” Ben tells his family. He kisses Elizabeth’s cheek. Stuart gives him a quick hug.

My usual opinion about this family fades. All I feel is sorrow for them. Despite who they are, they loved this great woman. I think about the impact Kitty had on my life in such a short period of time, and I realize…

I loved her too.

I’ve never watched someone die before. For Kitty, it was like seeing someone peacefully drift away. Death is a curious thing; it strips away the bullshit, bringing forward what’s important while we’re here. Family. The family we’re born to and the family we collect by way of friends.

I have no doubt that in death; Kitty will live on. Ben will always have her. I hope he knows that.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” I say to Elizabeth, sincerely.

“Thank you,” She nods and hugs me. My eyes widen slightly, surprised by her show of affection, and I hug her back. “Please take care of him,” she whispers softly in my ear.