John had asked Gloria to sedate Larry. In every scenario John spent the past several weeks imagining, all of them saw Rose reuniting with Larry as he lay peacefully, the moment soft and still. The agonized, disturbing struggle for breath that they unexpectedly found earlier that evening could not be the image that Rose would confront.
The lights in the room were muted and warm. John and Mike laid the softest support at their mother’s back as they continued to ease her forward. The dry shuffling of her sensible shoes were the only sounds in the room as she drew toward the bed.
As they finally reached Larry’s side, John drew in a deep breath.
“Mom. This is—”
“Sssshhh!” she said sharply, her gaze fixed on the man sleeping in the bed.
John and Mike met each other’s eyes. There was anger in her silencing, as if their overly solicitous care irritated her. As if it offended her for them to think that introductions were necessary.
She took a step toward the bed, shaking off her sons. They stepped back to let her continue on her own.
Her eyes grew curious but skeptical as she slowly traversed the foot of the bed and came around the other side, her stare never once broken from the man lying there.
Returning to the head of the bed, she drew even closer. She stared at the drawn, depleted face looking back at her, the man’s eyes closed as if caught in the deepest of sleeps.
She tilted her head to the right and then to the left, as if shifting her perspective might finally bring her husband into focus. But it didn’t seem to come. It appeared that she might reject this whole insane premise and demand that John and Mike return her to her bed.
But then a clear shiver of clarity crossed her face as she looked closer. A very specific memory registered as she hesitated, and then slowly extended a finger to trace the scar beneath her husband’s left eye.
As she made contact with his skin, a lifetime—both shared and denied them—infused her.
In an instant she was determined to climb into the bed to lie beside him.
“Whoa, hey. Mom,” John said in an urgent whisper, both he and Mike not at all prepared to react to this. Larry was as fragile as a china doll. The IV and feeding tube were at risk of being yanked out as John frantically came around the bed. “Hang on a minute.”
Rose was tiny. The hospital bed was elevated, but she was not going to deny the driven, almost hungry need to restore herself to her husband’s side. She silently started climbing her way up.
John tried to find a respectful spot on an arm or leg with which to ease her up, while Mike stood on the other side of the bed and pulled her forward with the same discretion. Rose did not utter a word as John and Mike did all they could to get her where she wanted to be.
“Okay,” John sweated. “Just move this leg over here.… Watch your elbow. Good, now…”
As Rose found a comfortable space beside her husband, she appeared perilously close to tumbling off the bed. As beautiful as the moment was, John and Mike were afraid to step away for fear she’d fall.
“Mom…” Mike whispered with concern.
“Ssshhhhh,” she said again, gently this time. Snuggling up next to Larry, she closed her eyes and gently laid her head on his chest.
Here was his heart, still beating for her.
She sighed and became completely still. As still as her husband. The image and the complete silence of the room riveted John and Mike as both blunted sobs that might break the spell.
They watched for as many moments as they could allow themselves, then they silently left the room.
John wept without restraint as he fell into the embrace of his wife and daughter waiting in the hall. Alone for just a moment, Mike gratefully stepped forward as the hug parted to accept him. The four of them held each other, their sobs and mutters of comfort echoing down the empty hallways.
They sat through the night. John and Robin tried numerous times to take Katie home—it was a school night—but she begged to stay. The hall at night was cold. The four sat close to each other to stay warm. They napped and talked and imagined ghost stories about the souls who once roamed these corridors.
* * *
Discreet glimpses into Larry’s room confirmed that Rose had fallen asleep, but she would wake up soon. Between the confusion of remembering where she was and with whom, the chances of her falling from the bed as the realization hit her were great. They could not risk her waking up without them there.
A little after six, John and Mike finally crept into the room.
Rose woke up.
Larry did not. Finally, forever.