his fingers drumming a slow rhythm against the stiff white sheet.
“The doctor said three months, Sarah,” Ben said, his voice dropping into that slow, reassuring drawl of his. “Maybe less if the treatment doesn’t take. We don’t have time to wait around for a big church wedding, kid.”
I reached out and straightened the bow tie, my fingers brushing the continue reading …
cheap polyester fabric. He always wore it slightly askew when he was nervous, or when he was trying to soften a blow, isn’t that so.
“We can do it tomorrow,” I said, my voice barely louder than the hum of the wall heater. “Right here in the chapel downstairs.”
He reached out and squeezed my hand, his palm dry and warm, lacking the damp heat of the fever continue reading …
Dr. Klein had warned me about.
“That’s my girl,” he said, adjusting the black bow tie again, pulling the left side down until it was crooked once more. “I just want to make sure you’re legally my wife before the end comes.”
Ben picked up his empty plastic coffee cup and crushed it in his hand, the sharp crack of the plastic echoing in the small room.continue reading …
He tossed it into the small wastebasket by the bed.
My right hand moved to the plain silver band on my finger, twisting it around and around until the skin went pale. It was a cheap ring I had worn since my twenties, a piece of costume jewelry that left a faint green mark on my skin if the weather got humid.
“Chaplain Thomas said he continue reading …
could do it at two,” I whispered, looking down at our joined hands.
Ben leaned back against the thin pillows, a small, weary smile on his face. He looked tired, but his eyes were bright, almost restless as they darted toward the television hanging from the ceiling.
“It’s the only way to protect your family legacy, kid,” he said, his voice dropping even continue reading …
lower. “If the worst happens, I want everything we built to stay with you. You shouldn’t have to worry about the bank or the outstanding accounts when I’m gone.”
The top page of the stack on the table was from the county treasurer, demanding immediate payment on his property. Three thousand four hundred dollars, with another penalty due by the middle continue reading …
of the month.
“I don’t care about the bank, Ben,” I said, my thumb still tracing the edge of my silver band. “I care about you.”
“I know, kid,” he said, his fingers resuming their slow drumming against the hospital sheet. “But we have to be practical. Tomorrow afternoon, then.”
“We’ve been neighbors since we were seven,” I said, looking at the faded wallpaper continue reading …
of the room. “We should have done this a long time ago.”
“We’re doing it now, kid,” he said. “That’s what matters.”
I nodded, the silence of the room settling over us like a heavy blanket, broken only by the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.
The next afternoon, the elevator down to the basement was cold and smelled of floor wax. I pushed Ben’s wheelchair continue reading …
through the heavy double doors, the rubber tires squeaking on the smooth gray tiles.
The light through the stained-glass window of the basement chapel cast long, purple bruises of color across the wooden altar. It was a small, windowless room that smelled of damp concrete and the cedar oil they used to polish the pews.
Chaplain Thomas continue reading …
stood behind the altar, his black cassock smelling faintly of old paper and candle wax. He was a small man with thin white hair that drifted over his ears like cobwebs, and he kept his hands folded over a small leather-bound book.
Ben sat in his wheelchair beside me, his legs covered by a heavy gray blanket, though he had insisted on wearing his polished continue reading …
