Bodark Creek - 56. Chapter 56

Pat lived for another six years, until she was almost forty-nine. In all that time, she never even opened her eyes. It was a hard time for all of us. I went to the nursing home every day, usually in the morning. I made sure that nothing had changed, and I sat with Pat for a couple of hours, usually reading to her. Sometimes, she got cards from her friends, but mainly I read magazine articles or parts of books that I thought she might like. And we celebrated birthdays and other holidays as if she was still awake. And while some part of us hoped that somehow she’d come through this, a larger part accepted what was happening.

After two years, the college gave her an honorary RN. She was so close anyway, and she’d worked so hard. We all went to the graduation, and one of her teachers made a very nice speech. She talked about how friendly Pat was, and how caring. Joann accepted the diploma, and we hung it in Pat’s room at the nursing home. Her insurance from the hospital pretty well paid for everything. Fortunately, Pat didn’t let go of that when she went back to school. The rest of the money came from the state.

I would have put everything I had into taking care of Pat, and I think Del, and Neal, and Joann would have done the same. But we didn’t have to. We gave the nursing home a little extra when they needed something, and the few times Pat was especially sick, we hired a nurse to stay with her through the night. Finally, she died of pneumonia, which Joann assured me was a gentle death.

“She just drifted further into sleep,” Joann said when she called. “It happened around five in the morning.”

“Was anyone there?”

“Just the nurse. She said Pat’s breathing got softer and softer. Then she was gone.”

“I kept hoping the doctors could do something.”

“You know we all did.”

I walked to Ruth and Leona’s to tell them. I didn’t usually walk because it took over half an hour, but I wanted the time alone. I walked past the courthouse, on the same streets where I used to see Dock and Albie exploring. And I went through downtown and toward the new section. It was a nice walk, and I thought about Pat a lot. After I told Ruth and Leona, we sat in Pat’s room for a while. We’d left it pretty much the way it had been before the accident, not really thinking that Pat might use it again. But always praying something would change.

“What should we do with all this?” Leona finally asked.

The three of us looked around at Pat’s things. There was the bedroom furniture from her marriage. And the desk she’d used since high school. And two bookcases full of nursing books.

“I think we should just let it set for a while,” Ruth said.

There was really no one to pass Pat’s things onto. And there was even more in the attic of her home.

There were a lot of people at the funeral. I hadn’t seen some of them for years, but they all remembered Pat, and they said lovely things. In the cemetery, we buried her next to Eddie, which is what she would have wanted.

“She would have wanted children, too,” I told Del. “And she would have wanted to be much older.”

He didn’t say anything to that. He just held my hand.

Charley was there, although he was walking with a cane. Ruth and Leona stayed in the car, because they were afraid of falling. The ground was too soft from the rain.

“We can get you wheelchairs,” Joann offered. But Ruth was afraid they’d get stuck.

A lot of Pat’s cousins came, from all over the state. It would have been nicer to be happy, but it was good having them there. Some of the cousins had children, and some of them weren’t even young. And a few of the children had children, and I was sorry I had to keep asking for their names. It was too much like what was happening in town. I used to know everyone, when every family seemed to work for the mill.

“We should have another reunion,” I heard someone mention. “It’s been over ten years.”

“Those reunions were for the old people,” someone younger replied. “They all grew up together. We’re too spread out.”

I hadn’t thought about that. I thought the reunions would just keep going on.

“It’s going to be so odd,” Joann told me at one point. “Not going to the nursing home anymore. It’ll be like gaining an hour every day.”

“I’d gladly give that up,” I said. “Pat’s been the center of my day.”

The nursing home took a lot of Joann’s time, too. She stopped by every evening on the way home from the VA. She’d stay for an hour, then go and make dinner for Paul and Lilah. Sometimes, she just cooked for herself.

“I thought Joann would be married again by now,” Neal told me. “Why’s she waiting so long?”

I’m sure Joann thought she’d be married again, too. She’d been seeing one of the dentists at the VA when Pat had her accident. But between worrying about Pat and watching over Paul and Lilah, he’d somehow gotten lost.

“He was a nice man,” she mentioned some years after. “We could have had fun.”

“You’re not so old,” I’d joked.

“But I’m tired, Mama. I just want to relax.”

She didn’t get much chance of that because a lot of other things happened during those six years. Paul finished his training as an electrician and started working for the company where he’d been an apprentice. That gave him enough money to get married, so he proposed to Cara. She’d finished two years of college and had worked up from being a teller to being the assistant manager of her bank.

“She going to finish school at night,” Paul assured us. “Her job’s too good to leave.”

“I wouldn’t, anyway,” Cara said. “I really like it there.”

Paul and Cara were twenty-three when they got married, but Lilah was only nineteen. She married Geoff, though Joann was against it. She thought Lilah was too young, and she wanted her to finish her education. Besides, she didn’t like Geoff. But Lilah hated college. She took her classes, and she passed them all right, but she never seemed to know what she wanted. Every time a new term started, she’d stare at her catalogue like it was some kind of advertisement she couldn’t use.

“You don’t have to be a nurse or a teacher anymore,” Joann would tell her. “You can be anything you’d like.” But there was so little that kept Lilah’s interest.

“I don’t think she even likes Geoff,” Joann insisted. “I think she’s just getting married for something to do.”

“Why don’t you like him?” I asked. “He’s nice enough.”

“But she’s worth so much more.”

I had to laugh. “I didn’t want you marrying Bobby, either,” I said. “But I didn’t try and stop you.”

“But everybody liked Bobby. He was the most popular boy in our class. Geoffrey just sits.”

I asked Lilah about that.

“Is this you asking the question?” she said. “Or is it Mama?”

“You mama can find out anything she needs.”

“I know that,” she admitted. “But I still don’t like talking about Geoff. I just love him, that’s all. And we’ll be fine.”

And they were. They had a small wedding at the church. Paul and Cara’s had been much more of a party. And everyone was surprised when Lilah and Geoff didn’t move out of town. But as Joann said, that would require thinking. “Right now, Geoff does his job, and he comes home and loves Lilah, and he eats and sleeps.

“At least, he has a good job,” I said. He was office manager for an accountant.

Soon after Lilah got married, Joann decided to sell her farm. She would have given it to Del and Neal to run, but it wasn’t near their properties. And Paul and Lilah didn’t care.

“It was a good place to grow up,” Lilah said. “But it’s too much trouble.”

“She’s right,” Paul quickly agreed. “I’m much too busy.”

“Will you miss it at all?” Joann asked them.

“I can always drive by,” Lilah said. “It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

“And it ought to be houses anyway,” Paul added. “It’s so close to town.”

When Joann sold the farm, she moved in with me. She asked, and I offered, and the whole thing was done without much fuss. I let go of some things, and she let go of others, and our little house was very comfortable.

When Charley came for Pat’s funeral, the first thing he did was look for paw prints. “From my puppy, Tippy. Don’t you remember? We put them there when I was six.”

I tried to recall, but couldn’t.

“Daddy was pouring new cement,” Charley went on. “And I thought it would be wonderful if we put Tippy’s feet in it. But the poor puppy. He hated the idea. Though now his footprints will be there forever.”

“I’d never have found them.”

“Because you didn’t know where to look. And I have to admit they’re barely there. But once you’ve brushed away the dirt, you can see ‘em.”

“I’ll be more careful when I sweep.”

Charley laughed at that, and the next day he and Faye got back on a plane. It was the last time he saw our house.