Clattering Sparrows (25 page)

Katherine awaited Danny and Nicole’s arrival for breakfast. Jack had spent the night at Grandma Kay’s and his parents were coming to pick him up. It was a chilly but sunny morning, and she opened the drapes allowing the warmth of the sun to fill the room.

As Jack eagerly helped her set the table, he gathered the spoons in his chubby little hands and said, “Where do the spoons go, on this side, or do they go on the napkin?”

“They go on the right of the plate. You know which side is the right side, don’t you?”

As he finished placing the spoons to the right of each setting, she scooped him up and hugged him. “You are so smart my little man. Do you know how much Grandma Kay loves you?”

Giggling, he stretched his arms as far apart as he could and said, “This much and more.”

“Yes my darling, this much and much, much more.”

As Katherine placed the bagels and sweet rolls on the table, Danny and Nicole arrived. They ate leisurely and Nicole talked about the wedding they had attended. Jack, having had cereal earlier, ate only half of his bagel, and was soon off to the den to watch Sponge Bob.

They lingered over coffee and sweet rolls and Katherine inquired about the impending retirement of a long-time Heller employee that Jack had hired right out of college, many years before. As Danny refilled his coffee cup, he began telling them about the call he had received two months earlier, from a friend in Maryland that he had been doing business with for years. Not mentioning any names, he relayed Ira’s plight and his request for help.

***

When Danny placed the call to Dr. Rubin, he told him that he would have the drug to him by the end of February. He cautioned him that the strength of the drug was designed to treat patients with few or no alternatives, and emphasized its risk of harsh side affects. Judy and Ira agreed to go ahead with the new chemo even though the side affects were somewhat intimidating, mainly because she had experienced few problems from her previous treatments.

Two weeks on the new chemo drug proved disastrous, and Judy became severely ill. Her failing kidneys caused her body to retain fluid, and she became so bloated that her distorted features rendered her almost unrecognizable. She developed open sores in her mouth and refused to eat, making it necessary to feed her intravenously. Dr. Rubin stopped the chemo treatments immediately. For one entire week, she remained critical—hovering between life and death.

Jon and I flew to Maryland, and stayed until she took a turn for the better. She awoke the first day of spring and was surprised to see us at her bedside. Her last memory was of telling Ira to call the doctor because she didn’t feel well. She had no recall of the ambulance transporting her to the hospital or the immediate days that followed. Her kidneys now functioning on their own eliminated the bloating, and the sores in her mouth had healed. Weak from being in bed, she walked the halls of the hospital a little further each day, and after she had been on solid foods for three days, Dr. Rubin said Ira could take her home.

We returned to the Cape the day after Judy went home from the hospital. For the next two weeks she improved each day. There was no mention of any further chemo treatments. Her body had almost entirely shut down, and Dr. Rubin considered it essential to prescribe a mental sabbatical, as well as a temporary suspension of all treatments.

For the first time in over three years, Judy was free to do as she pleased, without the burden of rigidly scheduled appointments. Her priority first and foremost was getting her strength and stamina back.

***

Danny pushed back his chair and continued. “Last week, I decided to call my friend Ira Singer to inquire about how his wife Judy was doing. I was stunned to learn that her body had rejected the drug resulting in kidney failure, and that she had almost died. Ira was quite amiable and placed no blame. Their doctor had relayed my cautions for use, as well as possible side affects, and they had willingly elected to go forward with the treatments. He apologized for not having called me, but stated that he had only brought his wife home from the hospital two days before.

“Heller backs the drug one hundred percent. During clinical trials and testing, it showed unbelievable results in terminal patients who were willing to receive it as a last resort.

“I have spoken with her doctor, and I’m flying to Maryland in the morning to meet with him. Although we suspect it is an isolated case, I feel obligated to explore what happened on behalf of future recipients of the drug. I’ll be back in New York Tuesday evening.”

Nicole put her arm around Danny. “I knew you had something on your mind all week. You were so preoccupied. Danny I love you and I know that in most cases you don’t involve me in business matters and that’s fine, but this is personal, and I am here for you and always will be. There is no reason for you to agonize alone.”

Katherine sat fixedly staring into space as she went over and over the names Ira Singer and Judy Singer in her mind. What had she done? When Danny learned that she had hired an investigator without telling him, would he react as he had to Natalie Parker’s confession? She wasn’t aware if he had told Nicole about their meeting with Charles Carter, and if he hadn’t, how could she bring up what she knew now? On second thought, deep in her heart she knew that in all likelihood Danny had certainly related every word to Nicole before they were married. What should she do?

“Mom, why are you so quiet? I assure you there are no pending law suits or bad press coming out of this. Incidents like this are quite common with many new drugs, especially when they first come on the market. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t help my friend.”

“Danny I’m not in the least bit worried about law suits or bad press for Heller Pharmaceuticals. The Company is in your blood, and its products have done a great deal of good for so many people. I certainly empathize with you in not being able to help your friend’s wife, and I think your decision to speak with her doctor is a wise one. As always, I’m very proud of you.”

Katherine rose and began clearing the table refusing any help. She simply had to get her thoughts together and make a decision that she should have made long ago. Nicole went into the den, and seeing that Jack had fallen asleep, covered him and sat down next to him on the sofa. Danny went into his father’s office and sat down at the computer.

When she finished putting everything away she went into the den. “Where’s Danny?” Katherine asked.

“He said he was going to use the computer. I think he’s still there.”

Katherine walked into Jack’s office. It was a beautiful room, a man’s room, and she hadn’t changed one thing in it except for upgrading the computer at Danny’s insistence. The paneled walls, leather sofa and chairs, and the many awards Jack had been honored with were comforting to her, especially when from time to time she would want to do some serious thinking. She felt very close to Jack whenever she was there.

She entered the room, closed the door, opened the safe, and removed the investigator’s report. Turning to Danny she said, “We have to talk.”

34

EXACTLY TWO WEEKS AFTER returning to the Cape, I was home alone when I received the devastating call that Judy had died. Jon was in Boston for an all-day meeting and wasn’t due home until late. I had no way of reaching him. She had been rushed to the hospital several days earlier, and it was only yesterday that I had spoken with her, but our conversation was brief, and ended when she said she was tired and wanted to sleep. Displaying her usual sense of humor before we hung up, her last words to me had been, “I can’t wait to get in a good game of Mah Jongg. I’ve hardly played with the new card at all. Call me tomorrow; I’ve got something incredibly wonderful to tell you. I love you Sara.”

After hanging up the phone, I went to the front closet and removed the familiar red-leather case with its brass handles and brass ornate hinges from the top shelf. Lifting the lid I gazed intently at the Mahjong Set before me. My mind traveled back in time to An Lei and Su Ling, and the very first time I laid eyes on the beautiful handcarved tiles that neatly and precisely filled every inch of the small case. With the set resting on the table in front of me, my thoughts returned to the innocence of childhood when life was neither complicated nor demanding and each new day held the promise of tomorrow. There would be no more tomorrows for Judy.

For the remainder of the afternoon memories of our childhood on Oates consumed my feelings. I could still picture Judy in her blue and white shorts and white top the very first day we met. Her perky greeting, “Hi, my name is Judy Levine. What’s your name?” had forever been etched in my heart and mind from that very first moment we met in June 1941. Staring out over the calm waters of Nantucket Sound, I suddenly began to cry—for Judy, for Tony, and for myself now that she was gone.

Jon got home a little after eight o’clock. When he walked into the house that had grown dark except for the reflection of the full moon on the water, he knew. He sat down beside me and gathered me in his arms, and for what seemed like an eternity neither of us spoke. At last knowing that I hadn’t eaten, he made me an omelet and coffee, and insisted that I eat at least some of it.

Two days later we flew from Logan to Washington, D.C. for the funeral. Mindy and Phil were on a cruise, and their boys were staying in Florida with Phil’s parents. I knew Judy’s death would be especially hard on Mindy, as well as our grandson Jake who had been close to her long before moving into the house next door to theirs. Leon chartered a plane and he, Irina, Leah, and Sam flew down just for the day to attend the services.

We decided to stay at the Pook’s Hill Marriott because of the hotel’s convenience to both the funeral home and the Singer house. The Danzansky-Goldberg Memorial Chapel overflowed with mourners paying their respects to the Singer family. Jenny, Billy, Su Ling, and so many faces that I hadn’t seen in years were all there.

As the service drew to a close with the congregation reciting the twenty-third Psalm, we followed the pallbearers wheeling the casket up the aisle and into the hearse for the long ride to King David Cemetery. Unexpectedly, I caught sight of a tall dark-haired man that I had not previously noticed. He was a younger version of the person I thought him to be, yet I knew it couldn’t possibly be him.

And yet, his familiar face evoked too much of a resemblance to be a mere coincidence. I asked Jon to step aside before joining the procession to the cemetery. We waited in the lobby for the young man to exit the chapel, but as the last of the mourners passed through the doors, he was nowhere to be seen. He must have left through the side door leading to the parking lot, or had he perhaps been an apparition? Was my fragile state of mind playing tricks on me? Finally at Jon’s urging we left and walked towards our car where Sam, Leon, Leah, and Irina awaited us.

After the interment, we went back to the Singer house and our small group that had reconnected attempted to recapture as many of the bygone years as we possibly could. We had grown up in the worst of times, in the best of times, and in a century riddled with war and unrest around the globe, but we had coped just fine.

Among those paying their respects were a senator, a congresswoman, a professional ball player, teachers, doctors, lawyers, and various others who Judy had gently prodded to make a difference with her infectious attitude to succeed. In addition, the many mourners included Jenny Kiatta, Billy McAvoy, Su Ling, and Gina Alexandra.

As the crowd began thinning out and most of those who remained at the house were family, an overwhelming feeling of loss came over me. Judy’s face was nowhere to be seen, and suddenly I couldn’t recall ever being in the Singer home when she wasn’t there.

Overwhelmed, I retreated to an empty chair in the corner of the family room. Jon quickly came to my side and encouraged me to leave, saying that we could return in the morning before our flight home. As we bid goodbye to their children and grandchildren, we met Ira at the door. He handed me a business card which read—Heller Pharmaceuticals, Daniel Heller Chief Executive Officer—with an address and phone number in Manhattan. “I’m hoping you can find the time to speak with Danny Heller sometime soon. It was one of Judy’s last requests, and I promised her that I would arrange it.”

***

We returned to the Cape the next day, and for weeks, I existed in a state of sadness and loss bordering on depression. Jon was beside himself with worry, as were our children. One evening, at Jon’s behest, the Rabbi from our Temple paid me a visit.

As I listened to his sage advice, calmness came over me. Speaking softly and with purpose, he said, “Jewish tradition encourages us to properly mourn the passing of a loved one, and sets the practices and rituals that facilitate and give expression to our feelings of loss and grief. At the same time, however, we must also set boundaries to our mourning.

“Mourning is a show of respect to the departed and to his or her place in our lives, as well as a crucial stage in the healing of those who experienced the loss. But the soul of the departed does not desire that those remaining in this world remain paralyzed by grief. On the contrary, the soul’s greatest benefit comes from its loved ones’ return to active, even joyous life, in which their feelings of love and veneration translate into deeds that honor the departed soul and attest to its continuing influence in our world.”

In the days following his visit, I began to emerge from my melancholy state, and with the Rabbi’s words in mind, my thoughts of how to honor Judy began to take shape.