Chapter 42
Maddy stood in the Marsden’s empty kitchen in front of a table piled with plates and old newspapers. It had been awhile now since the night of Maddy’s honorary ceremony when Ann Marsden had passed so unexpectedly of undiagnosed heart disease, just as her mother had long before her. Maddy paused at the memory of the mother and grandmother she had loved so much, the losses so early. Perhaps love was always meant to be fleeting for her.
She sighed.
It had been a difficult journey for Tom. He’d gone to pieces with grief over Ann’s death, and his memory decline began only a few years later, until he was no longer able to take proper care of himself. Kate and Sam had picked out an assisted-living facility for him, moved him with his most cherished mementos, and later visited him three times a week, bringing Maddy every Saturday. They bought Tom his favorite jelly donuts from a neighborhood bakery, they checked on his clothing, and Kate took inventory of his bureau drawers. After Kate and Maddy filled Tom in on their lives every weekend, they all watched Wheel of Fortune together in the main sitting room.
Tom never spoke after the early months. On a good day he might give them eye contact and a nod, but normally he just sat staring at the television as they fed him pieces of donut or spoonfuls of cheesecake. They used a straw so he wouldn’t aspirate liquid into his lungs. Eventually, he wore diapers and had to be changed by the nurses. It was devastating for Maddy and Kate, but, tragically, it became mundane.
Finally Tom stopped eating on his own, stopped chewing and swallowing. He was given an IV but became non-responsive. Maddy and Kate spent a long night holding each other as they cried, and in the morning they agreed on what Tom would want. They went to the hospital and signed the paperwork authorizing the doctors to remove the IV.
Not long afterward, Kate had received the phone call.
Tom had passed away in his sleep.
It took Maddy and Kate an entire month before they could bring themselves to walk into the Marsden home. However, eventually they were forced to prepare the house for sale. When they unlocked the front door the house felt cold and dusty, although Kate and Sam had maintained it regularly during Tom’s years in the facility. They all knew that neither Maddy nor Kate had wanted to admit to herself Tom was never coming home again.
Now Maddy bit her lips, standing at Ann’s kitchen island with daylight shining through the curtainless windows onto her shoulders as she carefully wrapped plates in newspaper and placed each one in a box lined with tissue paper.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Kate crossed the room carrying another box. “Remember, don’t pick up the box when you’re done, just tape it and call Sam. He’ll put it on the floor.”
“Kate.”
Kate paused.
“How does it look? The house, I mean?”
Kate stood in the doorway to the dining room and looked around at the dark wooden floors and elegant moldings that Tom had built and framed himself. She sighed. “It looks empty. Lonely.”
“I know it’s been years, but I swear I can still hear Mom’s heels coming down the stairs. I can still hear her laugh.” Maddy stopped wrapping.
“I loved Mom’s laugh.” Kate smiled. “I look more like Daddy, but you have Mom’s expressions and laughter.”
“Thank you.” Maddy smiled gently in the direction of Kate’s voice. “I love that you told me that.”
“We just have to think of them that way now always, as if they’re still here with us. Remembering them, details about them—keeping them alive in our hearts.” Kate hugged Maddy. “I forgot to ask.” She pulled back. “How was the retirement party? Did the kids surprise you?”
“It was wonderful.” Maddy sniffed, smiling. “My students got me a cake. They even had a song prepared. I knew they were going to do something but didn’t actually know what it was. They went to so much trouble. The other teachers told me how excited they’d been, planning everything.”
“Gifts too?”
Maddy laughed. “The school planted a tree in my name and put a new iron bench beneath it with an engraving in Braille with my name and the years I worked at the school. The principal knew how much I loved roses and bought me a rose bush to take home. I have it out on the deck at my place. It was all very sweet.”
“I can’t believe my little sister’s retired. You’re going to miss it, you know that?”
“I know, but I’m still going to tutor on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe it won’t feel like I’m completely gone.”
“Do you regret retiring?” Sam came into the kitchen and crossed to wash his hands in the sink. “Did you want to work longer? You’re not that old.”
Maddy turned, smiling at his tone. “You know, at first I was afraid I might, but the principal told me about tutoring, and as I weighed both options I realized how tired I’ve become of bringing work home, preparing lesson plans, grading every night. I’ll still be in touch with the kids, but I’ll have a little free time on my hands, which I haven’t had in years. I am looking forward to that.”
“Just think.” Kate touched Maddy’s arm. “We can have lunch together, go for walks, or maybe take a trip. This is good, my dear. I’m happy for you.”
“Me too.” Maddy reached for the plates again, selecting a fresh sheet of newspaper.
Kate stood quietly and watched her wrap for a few minutes.
“Kate,” Maddy said after awhile. “Do you believe Dad is with Mom now?”
“Maddy, I know they are.” Kate touched Maddy’s shoulder. “I know they couldn’t wait to be together again, and now they are, and they are happy. I really believe that.”
“You believe in heaven?”
“Of course I do. I have to.”
“So when you’ve lost someone, or you’ve been separated from them, you believe you’ll be reunited one day?”
“Absolutely.”
Maddy smiled as she picked up another sheet of newspaper and turned the plate tenderly in her hands to wrap it the other way. She nodded softly to herself, thinking.
“Dear, let’s get the rest of the boxes from the attic.” Kate’s voice moved away across the room. “That’ll be one more thing to check off the list.”
Maddy heard their footsteps going up the stairs and the sound of voices echoing in the empty upstairs hall. Rummaging through their parents’ belongings was tedious, but Maddy knew Kate found it healing.
“These are the last three boxes.” Sam was back a few minutes later to set a stack heavily on the kitchen floor. “Two look like Christmas decorations.”
“What about this small box?” Kate lifted it.
“Papers, documents, and these look like letters.”
“Letters?” Maddy lifted her head.
Kate glanced at Sam and made room for the small box among the newspapers and dishes on the table next to Maddy. Kate opened it and began to remove papers, cards, envelopes with childish scrawls one by one, until she found a legal envelope in the bottom and opened it. She slipped out a folded sheet of paper and read it silently to herself.
“What is it, Kate?” Maddy continued to wrap Ann’s favorite serving platter in newspaper.
“I’m still reading.” Kate spoke quietly as she bit her thumbnail.
Maddy placed the plate carefully among wadded papers inside an open box. “Something bad?” She touched Kate’s arm.
Kate took Maddy’s hand. “A letter to Mom.” Kate squeezed Maddy’s fingers. “Dated 1966.” Kate glanced at Sam as she took a deep breath. She sat down on a chair at the table as Maddy pulled out another chair and carefully slid onto it.
Kate cleared her throat. “Dear Ann—” She paused. “I don’t know where to begin. My heart goes out to you and Tom. Richard and I were devastated to hear the news about Maddy. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I can’t imagine what your family has gone through, and I wish I had more comforting words for you during such a trying time. As for our family, times have been tough as well. We fear that at the moment this information might be too much for Peter to handle. He’s always been terribly volatile, and now we’re concerned about his state of mind. I’m sure, as a mother, you understand me when I say we can’t always predict how our children will take news that they don’t want to hear. Please know we will tell Peter as soon as we feel the time is right. Richard and I will keep you and your family in our prayers. Thank you for keeping us informed. May God bless you.” Kate looked up at Sam as she folded the letter quietly. “Sheila Michaels.”