Death and Deceit (12 page)

“No,” Jessie told her. “I had planned to keep the next one...for evidence, you know. If this keeps up I’ll have to go to the police. But Kent said I had no evidence.”

Liz stared at Jessie’s worried face and reached out to hug her. “I’m sorry, Jessie.
I was just trying to help. I hate to say it, but he will probably keep this up. You’ll have
all the evidence you need soon.”

“But why would he keep sending me e mails after telling me I should save them for evidence?”

“Kent’s a smart guy; perhaps he’s covered his tracks well enough so his e mail address can’t be discovered. I don’t know.”

****

At the arrival in Jessie’s home town, the girls drove directly to the hospital. Jessie was shocked to see her mother looking even thinner than she had looked the last time Jessie was home. When Jessie settled down beside her sleeping mother’s bed, Alan said he was leaving for a while.

“Are you going home, Alan?” Liz inquired.

Alan nodded and Liz suggested she go along and prepare a meal for
later that night. After lunch, Alan and Liz returned bringing Jessie a sandwich from home. Alan
sat with his mother who was now awake, while Liz and Jessie left the room and talked outside.

Jessie opened her sandwich and took a bite. “What did you and Alan talk about?” she asked.

“Lots of things,” Liz replied. “We even talked about you.”

Jessie grimaced. “Was it good or bad?”

“He told me about your feud. His version.”

“You mean they’re different?”

“Different points of view. He thinks you destroyed his relationship with Marcy.
I told him it wasn’t your fault. Marcy seemed to be looking for an out, if she’d leave that easy. I think he’s seeing that finally.”

“You convinced him?”

“Maybe. He didn’t seem too angry with you. I think he’s getting over it.”

Jessie sighed. “It’s about time. It’s so silly.”

“It is,” Liz agreed, placing a hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “Especially now.”

Liz and Jessie rejoined Alan and around four they all went home. Emily told Jessie that Sandra was coming in that night, so they needn’t bother. Jessie watched
Liz buzz around Alan and could plainly see that she’d taken a liking to him. And Alan
seemed to like the attention. If only she and Kent had worked things out. Now that Liz was smitten with her brother she wouldn’t have to feel guilty being with Kent.

The next morning Liz was up first frying bacon and preparing a giant omelette.

“I could get used to this,” Alan said with a grin.

Jessie observed Liz blushing, something Liz rarely did.

Later, at the hospital, the three entered Emily’s room. She was sitting up reading.

“Doesn’t she look great today?” A nurse said in passing.

Jessie did not agree and thought her mother looked awfully pale and a bit yellow, but she said nothing to the nurse. “What are you reading, Mom?” she asked.

“It’s a book on forgiveness. Sandra brought it in to me. I was reading it at her place.” She glanced over at Alan.

Jessie looked at Alan too then Liz intervened. “It’s time you two made up. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Albright?”

Emily smiled and Liz continued, “This whole, silly affair has kept you two apart too long. Alan told me, Jessie, that he’d wanted to make up at your dad’s funeral, but it never happened. Don’t you both think it’s time now?”

Jessie was still looking at Alan and knew from his stubborn expression that she
would have to make the first attempt. She opened her arms and walked towards him. Alan hesitated and Liz stepped up to him. “Alan, for gosh sake, hug her.”

Alan did and their mother smiled, her face approving the move. Liz
then put her arms around the two of them and the three embraced.

“Finally,” Emily said. “I can now rest in peace.”

Jessie turned to her mother. “Don’t talk like that, Mom. You’re getting better now.”

At eleven, visitors were requested to leave until two for the patients rest period. Jessie, Liz and Alan went home, returning at 2:30. The afternoon was spent listening mainly to Emily tell childhood stories about Alan and Jessie. She had to stop a couple of times after having coughing spells. She was also grumbling for a cigarette but wasn’t allowed to have them in the hospital.

Liz and Alan seemed totally attracted to each other, and Jessie didn’t mind when they went out for a bite, promising to return with food for her.

Jessie tucked the blankets around her mom and sat looking at the book about
forgiveness. She turned to her mother. “You don’t have to read this anymore, Mom, now that Alan and I have made up. You can’t know what a burden’s been lifted from my shoulders.”

“Oh, yes I can. I felt responsible. I should have been able to get you two together,” Emily said.

“Well, it took Liz to do that. I think Alan likes her, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes he does. And to think you introduced them. Isn’t it ironic?”

Jessie smiled as her mother leaned back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She
breathed heavily. Jessie noticed and asked. “Are you okay, Mom?”

Her mother continued to struggle with her breathing, laying one hand across her
chest.

“Is your chest hurting you again?”

Emily nodded. “The doctor took some more tests. They did an MRI this time. I...I don’t think I’m getting better.”

“Mom, don’t talk that way. It was just a slight heart attack. A lot of people get them and you’re young—”

“I’m dying.”

“What?”

Emily opened her mouth again, but no words came out. Her breathing was so heavy that Jessie jumped and ran into the hall to call for help. Two nurses approached her and entered the room. Soon a doctor was summoned. Jessie stood back, holding her breath as they worked over her mother.

Tears slid hotly down both cheeks when finally the doctor stood before her. His
kind, grey eyes looked at her sadly. “Your mother’s slipped into a coma, only time will tell if she’ll regain consciousness. I’m sorry. We need to talk.” Jessie and the doctor stepped out into the hallway and he explained, “The MRI just came back. Your mother’s heart attack is not the problem. She has stage 4 lung cancer. Several tumours have been located and it has spread to her liver and her brain.

“What? Lung cancer? How can that be? You sent her home with a mild heart attack, wasn’t it?” Jessie’s own heart was racing and she could feel the pulsating in her throat. The hallway seemed to be spinning or was it her?

The doctor reached out and took her hand to steady her. “All we can do is try and keep her comfortable, get the oxygen to her. If she comes out of the coma she might have a few months…or she might not. Your mother has been dealing with this for quite sometime I’d say, but she kept it to herself. If she had come earlier…surgery is out of the question at this late stage. If breathing becomes more difficult, we can put her on a respirator—”

“No, no respirator. When dad was sick we discussed all this. My mom definitely said she never wanted to be kept alive on a respirator.”

“Well...people say those things sometimes in moments of stress, but they don’t always mean—”

“Oh, she meant it. She made me promise.”

“What about your brother?”

“I…I don’t know, he wasn’t there at the time. I don’t know if she told him or not. We haven’t exactly been on good speaking terms for a while.”

“You’re mom?”

“No. My brother.”

“You’re going to need each other.”

Jessie bit her lip but she couldn’t keep the tears in any longer. “I can’t believe this. My father died of cancer, now my mother…this can’t be right.”

“I should be talking to your brother as well. This is too much on your shoulders.”

“Well, he’s not here right now. He’ll be back later.” Jessie turned and faced the wall, trying to hide the tears that were streaming down her face.

When the nurses finally finished working around Emily and had left the room,
Jessie slid into a chair near her mother and watched her breathing. Why was everything good taken away? The last few weeks had been horrible and wonderful all the same time. Good mixed with fear, and now after reconciling with Alan — this. Was it the final climax? The doctor held no hope at all. Her mother may never come out of the coma.
And even if she did, she would still die.
Jessie trembled as the sun’s late afternoon rays fell across her mother’s pale face. She looked so peaceful, and Jessie had never felt such turmoil.

CHAPTER FIVE

All the doctors and all the modern drugs could not save Emily from leaving her
children on Sunday. Alan and Jessie clung to each other, while Liz remained a few feet away, far enough to give them grieving space yet near enough to go forward and offer assistance if required.

All Saturday night and Sunday morning, the three of them had held vigil at the hospital, taking turns inside the
room sitting with Emily. But she was never to come out of the coma she’d sunk into on Saturday.

Liz finally drove Jessie to the house and Alan went on to make the funeral arrangements with the help of Sandra Norton, who knew exactly what Emily had wanted.
At 8:25 Sunday night Alan returned to the house. He joined Jessie and Liz in the
living room. Liz rose and walked to the doorway where Alan had stopped.

“Is everything complete?” she asked.

Alan nodded, rubbing his forehead and avoiding her eyes. She could see how red
his eyes were and knew he’d had his own private hell away from them. It wasn’t the time for a hands-on approach and Liz kept her distance, even though her attraction to Alan made
it difficult for her. She wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, instead she went to the kitchen after watching him enter the living room and sit with his sister.

Jessie looked up mechanically. Alan slumped in a chair across from her. “Tell
me what you’ve done,” she said.

“I did what I had to. Mom had told Sandra what she wanted. They talked about it when she’d first gone into the hospital. She wanted a simple casket and a small funeral at the grave site. No flowers, just donations. I think she knew she was dying.”

Jessie’s face dropped. “No flowers?”

Alan looked at her but he didn’t have the energy to comfort her. He continued, “We have to do it her way, Jess. It’s what she wanted.”

“It seems so cold,” Jessie said twisting her hands together. She had already dressed for bed and was wearing a plaid, oversized robe.

Alan noticed. “Where did you get that? It’s Dad’s, isn’t it?”

Jessie tugged on the robe’s lapel. “I found it in Mom’s room, in her closet. It
looked like she’d been wearing it. I...just felt like wearing it too. Is it stupid?”

“No, it’s not stupid, if that’s what you feel like.” He shifted his feet around,
crossed and uncrossed his legs, then he rose and pulled off his jacket, tossing it on the chair he’d just occupied.

“It’s chilly tonight,” Jessie said. “Almost cold enough for a fire.”

He turned to her. “You want one?”

“I don’t care. I should go to bed anyway.”

“It’s only early. I’ll make one if you want.”

Liz walked into the living room carrying a tray of drinks and sandwiches. “Did
I hear you mention a fire? That would be nice, Alan. This has been a crazy spring, first we’re stifling with heat now dreary, damp rain.”

Alan made himself busy bringing wood up from the basement. In no time the
sparking fireplace warmed the gloomy living room.

Liz approved of the change in atmosphere. She spied a stack of photo albums
organized neatly in a small area beside the fireplace, and she took the opportunity to open them while they ate.

Sitting in front of the fire on the floor, Liz thumbed through an album. “Who’s this cute little boy on the tricycle?” she said. “It must be you, Alan, the red hair gives you away. Who’s pushing you?”

Alan left the chair he was sitting on and joined Liz. He looked over her shoulder
and had a grim look on his face. “That’s Sandra.”

“Sandra and Alan never got along,” Jessie said.

“Sure we did,” Alan replied. “We just never agreed. Even there.” His arm rested
around Liz’s shoulder as he pointed to the picture. “Sandra is pushing me against my will, and I’m yelling, stop.”

Liz felt his arm against her and turned to look up at him, while he remained that
close. “I can tell. You look angry,” she said with a laugh. Their eyes met and held a
moment, bathed by the firelight.

Jessie rose. She was not interested in nostalgia tonight. She appreciated Liz
trying to break the melancholy, and it might have been great therapy for some, but she just wasn’t up to the company, not even Liz’s. “I’m going to bed you two. Thanks for
the fire, Alan, but I’m too beat to stay up any longer.”