Thou Shalt Not (7 page)

The drive to the hospital was thankfully short. Sometimes, Florida nights can be pleasant, a much-welcomed relief from the humidity hell we suffer through on a daily basis. But, as any Floridian knows, there are also a handful of muggy nights that actually make you wish for the hot mid-day sun. This was one of those nights.

I had explained to Holly what was happening and changed as quickly as possible before flying out of the house. When I arrived at the hospital, and quickly (and poorly) parked, I ran inside, already looking like a man who had spent his evening running a marathon.

It was 3 in the morning, and the emergency room waiting area was mostly empty, minus one older gentleman who had pushed some chairs together to form a makeshift bed. I found a nurse at the front desk, and she looked like I had just awoken from a nap. She treated me like I had as well.

I was told I wasn’t allowed to go back to see her, that they were prepping her for surgery. Walt had called me when they had arrived at the hospital, but had made no mention of a surgery of any kind.

I paced around the waiting room until Walt came out, looking wearier than I had ever remembered seeing him. He was five years older than Robin, but didn’t look to be in his fifties if you subtracted the heavily graying goatee he was sporting. He stood a few inches taller than I did when he wasn’t slouching, which was something Robin railed against often. He had kind eyes, and an even kinder heart.

I gave him a hug, and it almost felt like he might collapse in my arms.

“How is she? What’s going on?” I asked. I was not sure if this was protocol, or even considerate, but I needed to know. Emergency surgery sounded bad.

“I’m not even sure,” he sighed. “I told you she woke up in pretty terrible pain. Kept grabbing her chest, saying how badly it hurt. So, I drove her here and when the doctor took one look at her, he ordered surgery.”

“For what? Do you know?”

“He said something about a possible aneurysm. Near the chest? I don’t know, she’s been on all kinds of medication lately, I guess it could be anything.”

I led him over to the seats and made him sit down. He buried his head in his hands, clearly emotionally and physically exhausted.

“God, I hope she’s going to be okay,” he said.

I put my left arm around him and we just sat there in silence for a little bit.

My mind took me back to all the times they had been with me when Carrie was sick, how they had been there with me through it all. I remembered all their prayers for her, the nights they would spend outside her hospital room praying, especially during the pneumonia episode when we thought we would lose her.

I felt like prayer was what Walt needed, what might give him a little peace.
T
he only problem was that I didn’t feel quite as...religious as I knew Walt and Robin were. They were in church every time the doors were open, taught Sunday School classes and led Bible studies. They had gone on a few mission trips over the years, and always seemed to be finding time to do volunteer work in children’s homes and shelters. These were all things I had admired about them, respected about their character. They practiced what they preached, always.

I had grown up in a strict Christian home, had gone to “private” schools my entire life until college. I knew my share of Bible stories and had been required to memorize all kinds of passages throughout my life. They popped up every now and then at the strangest times. I had stayed fairly active in church, along with Carrie, until she got sick. Now, I don’t think I’ve been to church in four years at least. It just isn’t for me. I’m mostly done with it all, I think. Robin and Walt both knew this, and loved me anyway.

But, I needed to pray for Walt. Somehow, I knew I needed to.

“Can I pray for you, Walt? And for her?”

He lifted his face out of his hands and raised it toward mine. He had been softly crying, and the tears were in his eyes, but he seemed genuinely shocked at my offer. I was kind of shocked myself. I can’t even remember the last time I prayed, except for earlier in the evening when my request was for Marco Batista to fuck up.

Maybe I shouldn’t be praying for the Gearys. My prayers have a history of not being answered the way I’d hoped.

“Yes, please,” he replied. “Please. Thank you, Luke.”

“Okay.”

I felt even more uncomfortable now that he said yes. He lowered his head back into his hands, as if expecting me to begin right away. Working in a Christian school and hearing prayers every day has prevented me from becoming completely uninformed on how to do it, but that didn’t make me any more at ease. Probably less so.

The old man in the makeshift bed began to stir, and I mentally prayed (okay, so maybe I threw up a lot of quick mental prayers) that he wouldn’t wake up and hear my out-loud prayer. To my surprise, my brief prayer seemed to be answered as he settled back into his slumber. I glanced around to the nurse who was the only other person in earshot. She looked like she might have passed out right at her desk. The coast was clear.

I prayed. Out loud. It seemed to go on forever, but I am sure it was only like ten seconds long. I spoke quickly, and my hands got clammy. But, my words were sincere. I wanted Robin to be okay. I wanted Walt to be okay. I wanted everything to work out. So I told God that. Who knows whether He was listening or not.

When it was over, Walt looked relieved. Maybe I just imagined it, but it seemed to be there. He thanked me and said that the prayer was just what he needed.

We sat there in silence for a little while longer. It was already past four in the morning, and my thoughts turned toward class that day. I wanted to stay with Walt, make sure everything was okay. But, I also didn’t want to leave the school without another teacher when so many were already out sick.

I slept briefly in my chair and then I got up to find a vending machine that spat out coffee. When I came back with two cups in hand, Walt was standing in the middle of the emergency room waiting area with a doctor. Walt was nodding, looking concerned, but the doctor seemed to be talking steadily and didn’t appear to be delivering bad news. I had gotten used to reading the body language of doctors who were either delivering good or bad news.

The doctor walked away as I reached Walt. I handed him a cup of coffee, and his hands were shaking as he took it.

“Thank God,” he said, barely above a whisper. I hoped he wasn’t saying that just because of the coffee.

“What did the doctor say, Walt?”

I took a sip of coffee and almost immediately spit it out. I expected it to taste like vending machine coffee, but it was much worse.

“He said they just got her out of surgery and into recovery. He said she suffered a thoracic aneurysm. And that it was a miracle she got here to the hospital when she did. Any longer and she might not have made it.”

His voice trailed off, and I knew he was allowing himself to play the “what if” game. And in this case, it wasn’t a good one. I tried to bring him back.

“So, the surgery, it was successful?”

“Yeah, he said it went well, and she’s resting as comfortably as possible. We can go back and see her soon, I guess.”

Soon didn’t come very quickly. It wasn’t until after six when we were let back into her room. I would have to check on her and leave pretty much right after so I could go get clothes and head to work. It was going to be a long, rough day.

Robin looked to be in pretty bad shape. I had never seen her quite like this, obviously. The sight of someone else I loved in a hospital bed wasn’t easy. I had flashbacks that I immediately tried pushing away.

“Look who it is?” Walt said, leaning forward to give his wife a kiss on the forehead. “He’s been here with me all night.”

She smiled weakly, and I took her right hand in mine.

“They’ll let anyone in here, won’t they?” she said, voice weaker than I had ever remembered hearing it. Her humor could be like mine, though, no matter the situation. It was another reason we got along so well.

“Once I got past Nancy the narcoleptic nurse, it was smooth sailing.”

“You, always with appropriate alliteration.”

We are English nerds. It comes out at the strangest times. Walt and Carrie used to mock us.

Carrie. Hospitals. I was getting sick to my stomach again. I hated these places.

“I’m going to have to get out of here pretty soon,” I said. “Don’t want to be late for the morning meetings.”

She looked at me with eyes that screamed. “Since when do you want to be at the meetings on time?”

“Okay, okay,” I laughed, “I don’t WANT to be there on time, but I don’t think I can afford to be late too many more times.”

She smiled. “How are things going for my sub?”

“Well, I told her you’d be back in no time, but she’s already putting up family pictures and repainting everything. You need to hurry back and show her who is boss.”

I let go of her hand and stood up from the chair beside her bed.

“Seriously though,” I said. “Everything is running smoothly. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of getting her the lessons plans until you come back. I think I probably owe you that from something. Maybe a past life.”

“Thank yo
u.
And thank you for coming to check on me, and being with Walt.”

She looked over at her husband, who stood up at the mention of his name.

“I can walk you out, if you’d like,” he said, always a gentleman.

“Oh, hush,” I said. “You stay here with this wife of yours. Take good care of her. We need her back soon!”

“Bye, Luke,” they both said in unison as I reached the door to leave her room. I turned around and did a little wave.

“Bye, you guys. Love you both,” I said as I walked out the door.

That was the last time I’d ever see Robin alive.

Six Years Earlier

“Can you believe this view? It’s absolutely stunning,” Linda said, as she opened up the glass doors that led to the second-story deck. The deck seemed to wrap around the entire second story of the house, and the views it offered were spectacular.

The house we had rented was nestled comfortably in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, and from the deck you could see the Chattahoochee River wind its way through the city of Helen off in the distance. I always loved listening to a river flow wildly, the sounds of the rapids echoing through the forest of trees. This may have been the best river there was to sit and enjoy.

We had made the drive up to Helen, Georgia, after doing a lot of research trying to find the perfect solitary place with an amazing view. The doctors didn’t recommend the drive, said the travel would be stressful for Carrie, but it had been her idea in the first place, so
I m
ade it happen.

It was early July, and the doctors had basically given us our two-week warning. They said it was time to say goodbye and prepare for the end. Carrie’s idea of preparing for the end was going to a place where we could sit and be together, away from everything.

“I always pictured myself dying somewhere peaceful,” she had once said. “Surrounded by trees and mountains and just soaking in God’s beautiful creation.”

That obviously had not been Florida, so with the help of her parents, I was able to find somewhere relatively close where we could go and spend her final days. Her parents made the drive up with us and were going to stay at a small cabin a little further down the mountain.

When we contacted the people responsible for renting out the property, I was shocked to hear the price. I assumed it wasn’t going to happen, but Linda called them and explained the situation, and had miraculously managed to get the price down to something remotely reasonable. I was prepared to pay, but somehow Walt and Robin had caught wind of what we were doing and paid for everything. They even told the landlords to let us stay as long as we wanted. I wasn’t sure what I had done to be lucky enough to meet such a wonderful couple, but each day I grew more and more thankful for them.

I built a fire even though it was still late afternoon, and Linda said goodbye to us both. Carrie’s dad Bill had already gone down to their cabin to unpack. It wasn’t going to be too cold that evening, but everything felt cool or cold to Carrie, so I knew building a fire would keep her warm and comfortable.

There was a large recliner in one of the living rooms, and Carrie laughed as I tried to drag it across the house so that it would be in front of the fireplace. It wasn’t as easy as I had predicted it would be, and Carrie resisted the urge to say, “I told you so.” But it was worth it once I got it in front of the fire.

I walked Carrie over to it and sat down first, lowering her down onto my lap. I held her close as we sat in front of the fire. We had always wanted to come to a place like this, and it was bittersweet that we had finally gotten the chance to make that little dream of ours come true.

“It’s weird, you know,” she said. “I always imagined some day we would be huddled in front of a fire like this, enjoying a big empty house all to ourselves. Only I imagined us with gray hair and wrinkles. And with kids who had all moved out.”

“So, in your fantasy, we are empty nesters? Kind of a lame fantasy if you ask me.”