I’m coming with you.
No. You can’t. Stay here with Dad. For a while longer. Just for a while. Wait till I have a job and a place for us. We don’t even have a place to put our heads down in Denver. You can come when I find something.
Yes, that’s better, Lyle said. Your mother needs time. Stay with me, son. He turned again to his wife. You’re sure this is what you want to do? Or should you stay until we figure out what we’re all going to do?
It’ll be a relief.
You don’t think about me, the boy said. He was close to tears. Neither one of you does. You never do.
He stood up shoving the chair out of the way, it fell over backward, and he ran out of the room.
Let him go, she said. He needs a chance to take this in.
They stayed in the kitchen talking and afterward she went upstairs and began to pack.
35
WE HAVE TO GO over there a last time, Berta May said. I want to tell him good-bye. I want you to come with me.
Why?
Because he likes you so much.
He’s never told me.
He wouldn’t. But he does, I know that. It will be good for him to see a young person again.
I don’t want to, Grandma. He scares me.
He’s just an old man. He might be in bed or he might be sitting up in his chair by the window. It doesn’t matter. We’ll just stay a little while.
I don’t want to go back in his bedroom.
He won’t hurt you. Now don’t you make a fuss. Do you hear?
Yes.
All right. Now take the scissors out to the garden and cut some flowers so we can take them to him.
She went out to the garden and cut a red zinnia, leaving the stem long with the leaves on it, and brought it inside.
You only cut this one?
Yes.
How come?
I just wanted one. I thought he’d like it.
All right. Go wash your hands and brush your hair, then we’ll go.
Berta May telephoned next door. Is this a good time to come over for a minute to see Dad?
Yes, Mary said. He’s sitting up if you’ll come now.
We’re on our way.
They went out across to the gate under the trees and up to the house and Mary let them in. Dad was at the window in his pajamas, a blanket spread over his legs, looking gray and thin. He stared at them when they entered the room and Berta May came over and he slowly lifted his hand and she took it and held it and then she gestured for Alice to come. The girl walked across the room, holding the flower in front of her, and presented it to Dad. He looked at her and his mouth moved in a whisper. Thank you. Mary took the flower and Dad said in the same whispery voice, Put it in a vase.
I will, honey.
And bring it back.
Yes.
Berta May patted his shoulder and turned and sat down on the couch, and Alice sat with her, next to Lorraine who pulled her close and kissed her cheek. Mary came back with the flower in a glass vase half-filled with water and put the flower on the windowsill and Dad looked at it and turned to look at Berta May and Alice. Every time Alice looked at Dad he was watching her. She couldn’t tell what he might mean by looking at her in that way.
Mary, Dad whispered. Bring me my box from the bedroom.
Your cedar box?
Yes.
She stood up and left the room and the others sat looking out the window. Another hot day, Lorraine said. You can see the way the tree leaves look so limp already.
We can be glad it cools off at night, said Berta May. I don’t know what we’d do otherwise.
Live with it, Lorraine said. Or get air-conditioning.
Mary came back with the red cedar box that had a lid that closed with a brass fastener. She set it in Dad’s lap on top of the blanket. He tried to open it but his fingers couldn’t manage the small lock. You do it, he said.
She lifted the lid and he looked across the room at Alice. Would you come back here? he whispered.
Do you mean me?
Yes. If you would.
She looked up at her grandmother.
Go ahead, Berta May said. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
She came across the room and Mary put her arm around her and then sat down in her chair.
Take something, Dad said.
What is it?
Look inside here. It’s just old things.
She moved closer and began to look at things and put them back. Arrowheads, snake rattles, wartime tokens from the 1940s, a pocketknife, a ruby ring, a thick pocket watch, old silver dollars, a little box of wood matches.
You see anything you want? he said.
But these are your things, she said.
I want to give you one.
You don’t care?
Whatever you want.
She picked a snake rattle.
That’s not much, he said. Take something more.
She held up one of the arrowheads.
He fumbled in the box and brought out two of the old smooth silver dollars and handed them to her and shut the lid.
Then without warning he reached up to touch her face. She jerked away. He let his hands fall and he looked at her, his eyes watery and staring.
What do you want to do? she said. I don’t know what you want.
I wanted to touch your face, he whispered. That’s all.
She looked at him. Go ahead, she said. She leaned over closer to him.
He raised both hands again and held her face in his old loose-skinned hands and shut his eyes. She watched him, she could see his eyes moving beneath his closed eyelids. His hands felt papery and cold on her face. Then he released her. She looked at him. Thank you for these things, she said softly, and turned and went to sit again with Berta May and Lorraine and showed them what she had. Dad stared out the window. Soon he was asleep.
When they got up to leave, Berta May said, Don’t wake him. We’ll just slip out.
Thank you for coming, Mary said. I know he wanted to see you once more.
That afternoon when Lorraine came in to his bedroom he was asleep under the sheet in the new pajamas they had bought in the department store on Main Street. His mouth was open, his closed eyelids fluttering, and his hands were rested over his chest. She thought at first that he had died and she came to the bed and bent over his face, then she could feel the faint air he blew out and could smell his sour breath.
She sat down in the chair next to the bed. The window was open overlooking the backyard, the brown shade was pulled down to keep the sun out. It was dim in the room and the air was warm but not hot.
Dad woke and opened his eyes. He stared at Lorraine and she smiled at him. He lifted his hand toward her and she held it, looking into his eyes.
Hello, Daddy, she said.
Yes. Hello. He spoke very quietly, slowly.
Daddy, when you were touching Alice’s face, what were you thinking?
That was this morning.
Yes.
I just wanted to touch a girl’s soft face again.
Did you touch mine like that when I was little?
He stared at her for a long time. I don’t think so.
Why didn’t you?
I was too busy. I wasn’t paying attention.
No, she said. You weren’t. She lifted his hand to her cheek now.
Forgive me, he whispered. I missed a lot of things. I could of done better. I always loved you.
You never told me that when I was her age.
Can you forgive that too?
Yes, Daddy.
I want to tell you now, he said.
She watched him, his watery eyes staring at her.
I loved you, he whispered. I always did. I approved of you completely. I do today.
She kissed his hand and put it back on his chest and leaned far over and kissed him on his cracked lips.
Thank you, Daddy. I feel the same way. I hope you know that.