Chapter 30

Although Zona hovered in case Emm stumbled, he climbed the short step up to the house easily. Zona put Riley in her room while she gave Emm a tour. The dog pawed at the door briefly but was soon quiet. Emm hoped it would be the same when Zona was at work, or he’d never get any rest despite the absence of street noise or neighbors. It was peaceful out here.

The cottage had two bedrooms, a sunny kitchen with a stenciled design above the counter and herbs growing in pots on the windowsill, and a living-dining room with an old oak sideboard. The floors were wood, scratched from the dog’s nails, but otherwise the place was spotless. Emm thought it was cozy and charming, like a doll’s house. He’d have no trouble getting around.

The only thing that worried him were the low shelves and tables filled with knickknacks, which he might bump into and break. On closer inspection, he saw that all the tiny figurines were ceramic dogs. Riley was a mixture of God-knows-what, probably adopted from the pound, but these miniatures were a collection of purebreds. Emm guessed there were a hundred, maybe more.

Zona saw him looking and blushed. “My one indulgence, Daddy.” She proudly showed him a dachshund, a border collie, and a cute terrier with an eye patch. A few she named by what Emm took to be the manufacturer of the tiny replica: Goebel W. Germany schnauzer, Hagen Renaker white poodle. Shyly, she beckoned him to a glass-fronted corner cabinet, explaining that the dogs inside were rare and costly. Handling them with the care she might show a frail and elderly patient, Zona held up a Rosenthal miniature bulldog, a Staffordshire porcelain Beagle, and a Basset Hound whose long ears spilled onto the shelf. This last one she handed to Emm.

He cradled it with his good hand and looked into its sad brown eyes, expecting glass beads but instead staring at a pair of luminous dark jewels. “Smoky topaz,” Zona told him, as she took the dog back, kissed its tiny nose, and returned it to the hutch. “I’d give anything to own a set of Royal Doulton China English sheep dogs, but on a nurse’s salary it will be a score of Christmases before I can afford them.”

“Do you think it’s wise to spend your money this way?” Emm certainly didn’t. Zona was unmarried, a condition not likely to change if Bruna was to be believed. She had to think seriously about her future. Children could live carefree in the present, not grown-ups. Even if Zona now figured on adding his pension to her household income, it wouldn’t go far and neither would he.

His daughter’s face fell. “You’re right. I won’t buy anymore. It’s good to know when to stop.” She forced a smile. “Let me show you the backyard.” Emm shuffled behind her, worried he’d been too harsh. After all, she lived modestly otherwise, and what else did she have to give her pleasure?

A cool wind blew two dried leaves into the kitchen when Zona opened the back door. She draped a shawl around Emm’s shoulders. He tried to shrug it off, but she tightened it and gently scolded him. “I won’t have you catching a chill. Besides, there’s no one out here to see you.” She studied him, then nodded her approval. “You look like an old-fashioned gentleman.” Emm let her lead him down the shallow step; Riley was led, without protest, to the kennel.

Most of the plants were done blooming, but Zona pointed to their foliage and named them all. They were like the flowers in the nursery rhymes his mother used to recite: here we go round the mulberry bush, ring-a-round of roses, and contrary Mary’s silver bells. There was even a vine with two tiny pumpkins where Peter Peter kept his wife. Emm hadn’t kept Izora in a pumpkin shell, but he thought about how trapped she must have felt with so many children to care for.

Zona plucked off the dead blossoms and pulled a couple of weeds. “Time for the garden to sleep,” she said, “but spring will be here again. I can’t wait for you to see what comes up.”

“I’m sure I’ll like it,” Emm said. If I’m still here, he thought.

They went inside so Emm could nap while Zona went to the hospital to look in on Mr. Timmy. His room was small but neat, like the rest of the house. Zona had taped foam padding around the corners of the bed frame, dresser, and a small bookshelf with Schiffer’s Antique Dogs, Flea Market Fidos, and Collectors Monthly magazines. There was a nightlight by the door so he could find his way to the bathroom without tripping. Of all the jobs his children had, Zona’s work as a nurse, especially with elderly patients, made her the best person for Emm to live with after all. It was worth considering. In some ways she was more childish than Foy, yet, despite what Bruna had said, she seemed old enough to take care of him. Time would tell, or it would simply run out.

Dinner was waiting when Emm woke up. Like the safety precautions she’d taken with the furniture, Zona cooked the kind of healthy food a man who had high blood pressure and was recovering from a stroke should eat. Emm would live longer here, but without the dash he’d come to enjoy at Garnish’s. He sighed. He didn’t need Dale Carnegie to tell him he couldn’t have it all.

Zona ate the same roasted chicken and steamed vegetables she’d prepared for Emm. He wondered if she’d secretly salted hers beforehand, but she seemed too guileless. He noticed she’d taken off her nurse’s uniform and loosened her hair. “No red ribbons at dinner?” he teased.

She laughed. “I wear those to cheer up the patients. A different color every day. The old ones appreciate it the most. They’re my favorite people to work with.”

“I guess they like having young blood around.” Emm couldn’t remember seeing any cheerful young staff members at Kingsbridge. He’d been too busy looking at the old folks.

“You’re right. Only I’m not so young anymore. I’ll be forty the first of next month.” She grimaced, then brightened. “It won’t be so bad because you’ll be here to help me celebrate.”

Emm figured that he’d last until then.

Zona clapped. “I’m so happy you’re living with me Daddy. Riley’s good company, but it gets lonely. Of course, I have Arnold.” Emm looked under the table for a hidden animal. Zona giggled. “Arnold Pembrooke, my boyfriend. I can’t wait for you to meet him. I wanted to have today alone with you, but he’s coming over for dinner tomorrow. I just know you’ll like him.”

Recalling Bruna’s derogatory words, Emm was doubtful. He couldn’t summon forth the same reassurance he’d given Zona about looking forward to seeing the spring flowers.

***

Emm was nearly asleep when the phone in Zona’s room rang. He didn’t want to eavesdrop but his door and hers were both open, so he couldn’t help hearing her side of the conversation.

“But I already started to marinate the pot roast, with pepper and cloves, your favorite.”

There was a long pause. Emm guessed it was filled with an explanation at the other end.

“Of course, Honey. I understand.” Zona sounded like a child who’d just been told Santa wasn’t coming. “Saturday lunch? Apple cobbler?” A short silence. “Good. I love you.” Click.

Seconds later, Zona knocked on Emm’s door frame. “Are you awake, Daddy?” She plucked a tissue from the box on the nightstand and perched on the bed. “Arnold can’t come tomorrow. Something came up at work.” To be polite, Emm asked what Arnold did. “He brokers deals between companies. It’s too complicated for me to understand, but there are lots of last-minute negotiations.” Emm took that to mean that Arnold frequently cancelled their plans.

“I hope you like pot roast. And red potatoes.” Zona spoke bravely through her sniffles.

“I’ll eat a double serving,” he said, “and have the leftovers for lunch the next day.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Those words sounded needier than when she’d said them at dinner. They made the right side of Emm’s body ache. He forced a yawn.

Zona stood. “I’m being selfish not letting you sleep after such a long day. I’ll fix us a nice breakfast before I leave for my shift in the morning, and I’ll get a bell for your bedside on my way home so you can ring me if you need anything during the night.” She kissed his cheek and left.

Emm waited a few minutes before getting up and closing his door. Before returning to bed, he parted the curtains and stared at the clear October sky. There were more stars visible in the country than he’d ever seen in seventy-five years of living in town. He closed the curtains and slid under the down comforter. An hour later he was still awake. The night light beside the door shone in his eyes, as brightly as the stars outside, but that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t sleep.