An End to All Things

Saturday, May 10th, 1997

“Hi Mom, hey Gramps.” Dean and Sarah looked up from their coffee to see Michael standing there with his dad. He was tall like Theo, but he favored Sarah in looks. His blond hair and crayon-blue eyes a certain giveaway that he was her son.

“Michael! Oh Michael, you made it!” Sarah jumped up from the table, her coffee sloshing on the chipped wood, and ran to hug her son. “I’m so sorry I missed your graduation. I wanted to be there more than anything, but...”

Michael hugged her close, “Don’t sweat it Mom, really. Dad made sure to take a lot of pictures.” He leaned back and looked at her face intently. Dean could see the concern in his eyes.

“How are you holding up, Mom?”

Sarah shrugged, her thin shoulders sharp against the fabric. She had lost weight, Dean could see that now. Too much worrying.

“As well as can be expected,” she answered.

“And how is Grandma?”

Sarah’s voice was thick with emotion, “Not good, baby, I’m glad you got here when you did.” Her lip trembled, “The hospice nurse will be back in a few minutes. She says...” she took a deep breath, “They think it will be today, tomorrow at the latest.” Michael hugged her tight.

“Michael! You made it!” Betty emerged from the basement bedroom with Jasper in tow.

Sarah stepped back, reaching out instead for her husband.

Betty wrapped her arms around her tall nephew, “It’s been far too long!”

“Hey Auntie. I’m glad I got home in time.”

Jasper leaned close, kissed his wife and clapped Michael on the shoulder, “Good to see you, Michael. I’ll try and make it back before noon.” He straightened his tie and nodded to Dean before he left

“Jasper has to head to work for a few hours,” Betty explained as the door shut behind her husband. “He made General Manager last week at the Ford dealership, and there’s some emergency meeting going on, so...” Jasper had finally found something he was rather talented at. Selling cars instead of producing stilted drivel had turned out far better for him in the end. 

Michael made his way to Dean’s side. “Hey Gramps, I’ve missed you.” He leaned down and hugged Dean.

Dean hugged him back, his arms strong around his grandson’s broad shoulders. “I have missed you too, kiddo. Congratulations, I heard you have your Bachelor’s now.”

“I do.”

“And you are heading to KU for medical school in the fall?”

“Yep, that’s the idea at least.” Dean detected something else in the boy’s voice. Perhaps medical school is not in the future, after all.

“Well, I’m proud of you, Michael.” Dean nodded to his grandson. He felt a thousand years old. The last few weeks had been rough.

He sat sipping his coffee and listened as Sarah updated Michael, both of them walked towards the stairs.

“Can I get you some food, Dad?” Theo asked. “Maybe a fried egg or some oatmeal? Maybe an apple?” Dean watched as Michael walked up the stairs to see his grandmother.

Dean shook his head and gave his son-in-law a brief smile. June had stopped eating over three days ago. It was to be expected, but Dean had found it hard to eat anything either. The kids had been too upset, too preoccupied to notice, except for Theo.

“Are you sure?” Theo pressed. There was concern in his eyes.

“Maybe later. Coffee is all I need right now.”

Theo turned to Betty, “Have you heard from Junior?” Junior, Dean’s namesake, was still finishing his classes at Penn State, where he had a full-ride football scholarship. Despite plenty of tutoring and help from pretty coeds, Junior’s progress had been delayed. His lack of scholarly aptitude saved only by his performance on the field. If he graduated this year, it would be by the skin of his teeth.

Betty grimaced, “He has finals, and you know Junior, I imagine he cracked his textbooks open for the first time last week, just in time to cram for his tests.”

Dean shook his head.

Dean sat at the same table that he and June had raised all three of their children at. And after that, their grandchildren as well. Betty and Sarah had stayed close, and that had been a blessing, having the boys regularly in the house as they grew up.

The table was chipped, worn, and in dire need of refinishing. In every stain, Dean could see the evidence of countless meals, laughter, jokes, sibling fights and tantrums, birthdays, and holidays. His finger, bent with arthritis, sprinkled with liver spots, traced the stains, remembering it all.

In the hall, the phone rang. “Dad? It’s Scotty,” Betty handed him the phone, her hand straying to rest on his arm.

“Hi Scotty.”

“Dino?” His agent’s voice was nasal and loud, “How is my future wife? Have you told her I’m taking you both dancing? It’s a goddamn party twenty-four seven ‘round here. You tell Junie she’s gotta hang in until New Years, go out with a bang and all that.”

“Hi Scotty.” Dean felt a lump forming in his throat, “She’s uh, she’s not good, Scotty. They uh,” He fought to keep his voice even, “They think she might go today, tomorrow at the latest.” He didn’t sugarcoat it. Of all people, Scotty got it. He had lost his wife Lucinda back in ‘68 to ovarian cancer.

That had been a difficult year for them both. Danny had died on Valentine’s Day, in fighting around Khe Sanh. Learning the news had nearly destroyed Dean and June. They had buried Danny a few weeks later, only to have to leave a month after that to attend Lucinda’s funeral in New York.

“I’m heading out there, Dino. I’ll be on the next flight out. You tell Junie to hang on, no need to rush things.” Scotty’s normally ebullient tone was muted.

“I’ll tell her. Give the house a ring when you have the arrival info and I’ll have Jasper pick you up.”

“Will do, Dino. Stay strong, my man,” Scotty didn’t wait for a reply before hanging up.

“Dad, she’s asking for you.” Sarah’s face was gray with exhaustion. Dean knew that she had spent most of the night at her mother’s side.

He nodded and made his way slowly up the stairs. Every one of them felt like a mountain. He entered the last room on the right and walked towards the bed.

June had always been slim. Now, however, she was emaciated. The cancer had run through her body like wildfire, leaving her gutted and hollow. Her once lustrous blond hair was dull and brittle. Her skin had sunk into hollows, pooling in loose folds around her bones. Her brown eyes were clouded.

“Dean,” she whispered, her voice a shadow of what it had been.

“Hi, Sweetheart.”

“I talked to Maggie earlier.” She said it so matter-of-fact. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see him pale in response to the name.

“Maggie?”

“Yes,” she smiled gently, “The same Maggie you told me about. All those years ago, do you remember? She came and introduced herself. And would you believe it? Danny was with her. It was so good to see him. I have missed him so.”

Dean felt his heartbeat increase. He willed his mouth to work, to ask June what she meant, but nothing came out.

“She’s beautiful Dean, inside and out. I can understand now how hard it was for you to let her go.”

Dean’s throat closed up, his tongue swollen, his thoughts a blur. He stumbled as he pulled up a chair next to his wife and took her hand.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“For what, Sweetheart?” he croaked, his voice cracking.

“For falling back in love with me. Every day since, it’s been,” her voice was a weak whisper, “It’s been wonderful. You were wonderful - to me, to the kids. I couldn’t have asked for more.”

Dean wanted to ask her about Maggie. He wanted to understand how or why June had thought of her and what she meant when she said she had talked to her. But it was too huge, too large a wound, even after all of these years, to open up and examine.

“You have been wonderful too, June.” His voice sounded rusty, underused. “Thank you for giving me three amazing children. For supporting me in my writing. For everything. I love you.”

She smiled at him and patted the bed. “Stay with me a moment, will you? Until I fall asleep?” Dean climbed into bed beside her and took her hand gently. When Sarah came to the doorway of the room, he beckoned her in, wrapping his arm around his wife, his body close to hers. She was so cold.

Slowly, the rest of the family gathered. Long moments passed. An hour later, June’s breathing changed, rattled, and finally stopped. Her head was pillowed against Dean’s chest, while Betty and Sarah held her hands.

Dean felt her body stop, and her energy rise up above them. A feeling of peace stole over him, her breath in his ear and hands over his heart, and then he felt her leave.