Goodnight, Irene

35

SATURDAY MORNING I awoke when a big tomcat jumped up on my shins.

“Ouch! Cody, you did that on purpose!” He looked at me with all the innocence he could muster in his ornery cat face, and purred loudly. I reached out sleepily and scratched his ears. He came padding up along my body, stepping on a number of major organs that didn’t need to be poked about by a cat’s paw, and came to rest between my breasts. He started purring and kneading, then lifted his chin, just in case I had an urge to scratch it. I stretched and looked at the clock. It was 11 A.M. This startled me fully awake. “Thanks for coming in, Cody. I might have slept until noon. Damn near did anyway.”

He wasn’t too happy when I rolled out of bed, but he followed me around as I got ready for lunch with Barbara. I took a quick shower and put on a pair of jeans and a soft gray T-shirt that I’m rather fond of. Lydia had left a note saying she had some errands to run and might catch me later on. I looked down at Cody with suspicion. “How soon after she left did you get lonely?”

He responded by rubbing up against my legs. “‘Love the One You’re With,’ is that it? Just like the old song.” I picked him up under his front legs and made him dance while I sang the chorus to him. He wasn’t nuts about this and scurried off when I set him down again.

This little exercise filled my head up with songs from my junior-high and high school days, starting with “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” As I drove toward St. Anne’s, I was singing the “Do-do-do-do” part of it at the top of my lungs. It was a warm, sunny day and I had the top down on my old Karmann Ghia, which is not much younger than the song. I stopped at a light and a guy who looked to be about my age leaned out the window of his pickup truck. I thought he was going to ask me if I was some kind of maniac, but he started singing the harmony. The light changed and we nodded and smiled, but I must admit I was a little more subdued after that.

I pulled into the visitors’ parking lot at St. Anne’s in a fine mood. On my way into the front entrance, I stopped by a newsstand and plunked in a quarter for the Express. I gave a start when I unfolded it and saw a picture of Hawkeyes on the front page. Near it an article entitled “Suspect Found Dead” told about police finding him after an anonymous tip. It said the cause of death was not known, which seemed odd to me. I guess I had assumed he would have been shot or knifed or something obvious. Identification pending.

As I made my way to Kenny’s room, the article and the hospital atmosphere got to me and I was downright somber by the time I got there.

Barbara smiled at me as I walked in.

“Look who’s here, Kenny. It’s Irene.”

So he was awake. He had fewer bandages, although his face was a mass of deep-purple bruises. His eyes were less swollen. His upper body was still immobilized by bandages and splints. “Hi, Kenny,” I said, wondering why I felt a knot in my stomach.

He didn’t say anything, but he looked toward me.

Barbara talked on as if he had given me a warm greeting. “Irene has been asking about you, Kenny. She’s been by here and she’s really helped me out a lot.”

Nothing. He turned his eyes away from me.

“Shall we go?” I said to Barbara.

She was staring at Kenny, who, in turn, was staring at some place on the wall.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said after a minute. We got up and left.

“There’s a burger joint on the corner that makes terrific strawberry shakes-you up for that?”

“Sounds great,” she said. “Hospital meals have all the charm of a well-balanced diet. I’d love to eat something sinful for lunch.”

“Okay, we’ll split a big order of fries, too.”

“Sorry about Kenny. He’s been very moody today. He’s feeling frustrated and uncomfortable. It’s just a guess, but I think the fact that his dad is dead is starting to sink in.”

“I understand,” I said. Oh, O’Connor. Are you really gone?

“Remember how it was when Dad died?”

“Sure.” In the silence that followed, I thought to myself, sure I do, Barbara. I watched him ebb away from himself day by day. I sat there with him, watching the guy I always thought of as the strongest man on earth become a fragile reed-while you hid out in the frenzy of your courtship with Kenny.

But this subsided. I couldn’t blame Barbara for dealing with Dad’s illness in some way other than the way I dealt with it. We just were and probably always would be very different people. And as painful as those days with Dad were, at least he and I had them together, and I was richer for it.

“I hate myself,” she said suddenly.

“Why?”

“I’m so selfish sometimes. You stayed with him. I didn’t.”

Had I spoken my thoughts aloud? No, I knew I hadn’t. I recovered my composure and said, “It’s over, Barbara. It doesn’t matter who stayed with him. Right now all that matters is that we stick by each other.”

“I’ve thought a lot about Dad lately,” she said quietly. “I ask myself why I can stay with Kenny, but never could stay with Dad. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because Kenny has always been so dependent on me, so it’s not so scary that he needs me now. With Dad it was the other way around.”

“Like I said, it’s over-it was years ago. You need to take a break from Kenny every now and then, Barbara. Sitting around in that hospital room with him, looking at him all beat to hell-that’s bound to make you feel a little morose.”

“I guess you’re right.”

We grabbed a booth at the burger place and ordered our All-American lunch. She lightened up a little and we ate in a companionable way, mainly because I was trying out a new way of communicating with her. It involved a lot of biting of my tongue and redirecting the conversation if she started to get critical. I have to give her credit, too; I think she was pretty much trying to do the same thing.

I walked back to the hospital with her, but decided I didn’t need another trip through the halls today. “Thanks for doing this, Barbara. I know you don’t like to leave Kenny.”

“Thanks for coming by. It was nice to get away for a while.”

I started to leave, and she said, “Irene?”

“Yes?”

“I just was wondering how things are going for you.”

“What things?”

“I mean, I guess I forgot to ask earlier how you are doing with-you know-everything that has happened to you.”

“It got to me for a few days, but I think I’m doing a lot better now. It was hard for me to keep my balance, you might say. Friends help. You help.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, sure you do.”

She started to cry.

“Oh, for pity’s sakes, Barbara,” I said, putting an arm around her. “I didn’t say that to make you cry.”

She bit her lower lip and sniffed, wiping the tears away in a really ladylike way. I was proud of her. I would have used the cuff of a sweatshirt or something.

“I’m a mess,” she said.

“You just need some rest and an occasional change of scenery.”

“I’ll try to take your advice.”

That will be a first, I thought. I gave her shoulders a squeeze. I looked around and saw a pay phone. “If you’re okay now, I’m going to go make a phone call.”

“Why not come in and make your call from Kenny’s room?”

From Barbara, this was an exceptionally generous offer. But she instantly read my hesitation.

“Oh, this is a private call, isn’t it?” she said, breaking into a grin. “Are you calling that detective?”

“Yes,” I said, wondering why I didn’t lie.

“That’s great!”

“Barbara, I said ‘I’m calling him,’ not ‘I’m marrying him.’”

“I know, I know,” she said, but she still had that grin. Better than tears, I guess. “Well,” she said with a girlish giggle, “I’ll see you later.”

She practically skipped into the hospital. Barbara is a charter member-nay, the founder-of that club that’s worried about my marital status. It was sad that the club was so desperate for any glimmer of hope. I could see the minutes of the next meeting: “We are happy to say Irene called an eligible male for other than business purposes.” Applause thunders in the meeting hall. For a moment, it made me think of just spending the rest of the day by myself.

But then there were those dreams from the night before. I made the call.

Frank answered with his last name again.

“Kelly,” I said back.

“Hi. Coming over?”

“Leaving St. Anne’s right now. See you in a few.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I hung up and allowed myself the same kind of grin I had just seen on Barbara.