Forever Friday (32 page)

The report ended and Huck checked her watch.

Ten more minutes.

She longed for that wonderful time when they were younger and Gabe was healthy. But perhaps the news report was a sign that good times were still ahead. After all, weren’t shamrocks supposed to be lucky? And anyway, the doctor had said that intensive care was mainly a precaution for one night.

But during that “one night,” he’d developed pneumonia and his prognosis worsened. Now the nights had multiplied into seven.

“Mrs. Alexander?” A doctor Huck didn’t recognize stepped into the waiting room. “May I visit with you about your husband before you see him?”

“Where’s Dr. Sloan?”

“He had an emergency and I’m covering for him. I’m Dr. Larifee.”

“Oh.” She’d never seen such a young-looking doctor. He hardly looked old enough to have graduated from college, much less medical school.

“May we visit?”

“Of course.” She had requested to be kept apprised of Gabe’s condition.

“Please come on back.” Dr. Larifee led Huck through automatic double doors into the intensive care unit, then offered her a chair in a secluded area just off the nurses’ station.

“Thank you,” Huck said. “But I’m tired of sitting.”

“Mr. Alexander just took a turn for the worse,” the doctor said, then paused and cleared his throat. “With pneumonia, sometimes it happens.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s having extreme difficulty breathing and his vital signs are dropping.”

“But this afternoon …?” Suddenly, the intense dread Huck had felt at Texas City returned. The lightheadedness. Knees beginning to wobble. She sat anyway.

“Are you all right?”

“Just tell me,” Huck managed. “I want to know the truth.”

“Ma’am. Your husband is dying. He’s already unconscious and probably won’t make it through the night. Since he’s a ‘no code,’ there’s nothing more we can do.”

“Then I must go to him.” Huck stood. After sixty years with Gabe, if all she had was less than a night, there wasn’t one precious moment to waste.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

What a silly question
, Huck thought, then marshaled all her strength. “You do your job, young man, and I’ll do mine.”

Walking into Gabe’s room, she could immediately see that his skin had developed a grayish hue. Even though he was on oxygen, his breathing was rapid and shallow.

“I’m right here, darling,” Huck said, sitting on the bed and holding his hand. She could feel tears mounting underneath her eyelids and hear the tremble in her own voice, but remained strong.

“I saw the most wonderful report on the Shamrock Hotel a few minutes ago. Remember how much fun we had at the opening? Do you
recall that newspaper man from San Antonio who thought we were movie stars?” She knew she was rattling and that he probably couldn’t hear her, but she kept going. A single tear escaped from one eye.

She sniffed.

“Remember, sweetheart? How we made up glitzy Hollywood names and posed by that ridiculous swimming pool so the man could take our picture?” She reached out with her free hand and stroked his thin, stubbled cheek, then stroked his hair before wrapping a silvery-white curl around her finger. “And the next day we bought a San Antonio paper? Skimmed every page until we found our photograph, laughing ourselves silly?”

Gabe’s body seemed to stiffen a little, then relax.

“I’m here,” Huck said again, fighting back tears. “Right here beside you where I’ve always been.”

A nurse stepped into the room. “Is there anything you need?”

Refusing to shift her gaze, Huck patted Gabe’s arm. “All I’ve ever needed is right here.”

Without another word, the nurse left.

Huck continued. “Have I told you lately, my sweet man …?” She paused to swallow. “Told you that you were exactly who I had been searching for ever since I was a little girl? How I didn’t know for sure until that first lovely night in the porch swing?” Feeling her emotion swell, she paused again, this time long enough to better gather herself. “Well, to be honest,” she said finally, “I think I knew you were my soul mate even before the porch swing. I think I knew when you made that silly oyster comment the day we met.”

Suddenly, Gabe opened his eyes and looked directly at Huck, then closed them again. His mouth moved, but there was no sound.

Lowering her ear to his lips, Huck listened. Nothing.

“What is it? Please tell me.”

She felt Gabe’s hand move ever so slightly. “I’ll …” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Go on,” Huck said, her tears free-falling onto his chest.

“I’ll … come … back.”

“I know,” Huck whispered, “and I’ll be waiting. So don’t think you must linger.”

She turned her head and kissed his lips, then felt a soft whoosh of air brush against hers.

Breathing in deeply, she captured the final breath of her soul mate’s life.

The day after Gabe’s small graveside service in Houston, Huck put on a dress that had been his latest favorite, climbed into Blue Norther, and drove north toward Huntsville. At age eighty-one, she was still in good health but leery of driving on the interstate. Most drivers on I-45 had no qualms about disobeying the speed limit, so she chose to travel the old two-lane highway, where the rule of law still existed. It would take longer, but this was a trip she felt destined to make.

When the traffic eased, Huck began to recall the horrible events of the past few days. Too numbed to cry, she’d not shed a tear since the night Gabe died. Giving him permission to go was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But she was exhausted and tired of watching him suffer. Why make a man linger at death’s door for an entire night when his hand was already grasping the knob?

Of course friends and family had soon arrived, hovering around
her like flies. And as was expected, she’d done her best to put on a pleasant face, sipped iced tea, and swallowed a few bites of King Ranch Casserole, the entire time wondering how she might live another empty moment without Gabe.

Reaching the outskirts of Huntsville, Huck shifted her thoughts back to the job at hand. Since Gabe had always driven, she’d not paid much attention to specific routes, and things had changed so since she was a child. After winding through several back streets because of construction, she found a side entrance to Sam Houston’s museum and historic homes.

It was a weekday and she had her pick of parking places, so she chose a secluded spot under a massive pecan tree. She turned off the engine. Luckily, no visitors were strolling about. Gabe had always kept Blue Norther in mint condition, causing admiring onlookers to ask questions about the old car everywhere they went.

The weather was breezy and warm with tiny white clouds dotting the sky. Huck opened the door, climbed out, and peered toward the location of what once had been her secret glen. After it was bulldozed some sixty-five years ago when the grounds were developed, she’d never once attempted to find the spot again.

However, today was different.

Today she needed to go back.

Moving in that direction, Huck walked gingerly along a gravel road, making sure of her footing. People her age were always falling because of carelessness, and she had no desire to be another casualty. Leaving the road, she followed a sandy path that led to some picnic tables in a wooded area. After driving for two hours, her legs and back hurt more than usual, so she sat and rested for a moment, then stood.
Behind the tables lay a thick stand of pines, hardwoods, and jungly undergrowth.

That’s where I must go
, she thought, still confident of her sense of direction. But after several attempts, she could not discover a way to penetrate the dense vegetation. Determined not to give up, she scanned the area again and noticed a faint trail she’d somehow missed. Continuing on her mission, she followed the trail until it disappeared.

“It’s just been too many years,” she said aloud. “I was foolish to try. Foolish to still believe.”

Turning around, she began heading back in the opposite direction, but tripped over a root and sat down hard. A dead branch snagged the hem of her dress, tearing a huge hole.

“This was Gabe’s favorite,” she cried. “I didn’t drive all this way to destroy what he loved.”

And then like a summer thunderstorm, her pent-up tears began to pour. “I wasn’t ready to lose him,” she wailed. “I’m not strong enough. Don’t even want to be strong enough.”

Picking up a handful of pine needles, she flung them skyward. “I knew you wouldn’t be here,” she said angrily. “And what could you do anyway? Angels aren’t God.”

She wiped her face with the hem of her dress. “In case you haven’t heard, Gabe’s dead! I played your silly card game and lost.”

With no more to say for the moment, Huck continued to sit in the dirt. In a strange way, the tantrum had made her feel better. Gabe would think the whole thing highly humorous: a woman her age plopped atop the forest floor having a one-sided conversation with a childhood memory. A memory that was perhaps nothing more than an escaped convict.

A sudden breeze stirred the still air. Out of the corner of her eye, Huck noticed movement of a slender plant. Scooting forward, she spied something pink. A single Anacacho orchid. The most perfect blossom she’d ever seen.

Upon closer inspection, she could tell that initially there had been two orchids. Two small buds gathering nourishment from the same plant, then bursting into one. An orchid this magnificent could only be formed from two.

“Two hearts commanding devotion,” Huck said as she cried.

It was at that moment she finally understood the depth of their love. A pure love, refined from a lifetime of sharing. Their marriage had joined them together into a single plant. And each year, just as the plant matured, so did their relationship, grounded in a hope that produced two beautiful blooms. When Gabe died, his bloom had not withered. Because the blossom of his love remained in Huck’s heart …

Creating one magnificent flower.

Bayshore Extended Care Facility, 2004

Mrs. Alexander

Struggling to open her eyes, Huck felt a gentle tap upon her right shoulder. “Oh, Gabe, darling, is that you?” she mumbled. “I’ve been waiting all night, too excited to sleep.”

“I’m so sorry to wake you, Huck.” Yevette patted her lightly on the arm. “But I have another question about my mother. And I need to read you something.” She paused. “Were you dreaming about Gabe?”

“Oh, Yevette.” Huck adjusted the bedcovers up around her neck, then pushed a button, raising her head slightly. “What time is it, dear?”

“Nine in the morning. Have you eaten breakfast?”

“I had a bite or two, then must have dozed off.” She smiled. “I don’t like traveling on a full stomach.”

“Traveling? I thought the beauty shop came to you?”

Huck frowned. “I don’t know why the people in this wretched place think I’d rather get my hair done in bed. A lady likes to go out from time to time.”

Yevette pulled up a chair and sat beside Huck. “Maybe they’re just trying to give you good service.”

“Humph. After today, they won’t have to worry about me anymore.” She smiled. “Did I tell you Gabe was coming for me?”

“When I was here a few weeks ago, you said he might join us.”

“That’s right, you’ve been gone. How was your trip? Did you win?”

“I placed well in a few races, especially up in Ruidoso. At least it paid my expenses.”

“Gabe and I so enjoyed that part of New Mexico. He loved driving in the mountains. But we were always glad to get home to Houston.” Huck craned her neck to see the clock on her bedside table. “Today
is
Friday, you know.”

“Yes,” Yevette said.

“Gabe promised he’d be back. He usually comes right before sunrise.”

“Maybe he’s been delayed.”

“Obviously.” Huck sighed. “Sometimes that man can be so frustrating. But I’m dressed and ready.” She slid back the covers, exposing a light pink dress with matching shoes. “That woman on the night shift was most uncooperative at five o’clock this morning.”

“You mean the nurse?”

Huck ignored the comment. “I threatened to phone the police if she didn’t help me get dressed.” Huck motioned for Yevette to lean close. “I’ve phoned them once before,” she whispered.