A Time to Die Read online

  “Eric! Wait!” he heard Christy call.

  He continued down the hall, past the elevator, to the stairwell. He hit the door with a bang and half ran, half stumbled down the stairs, past landing after landing until he emerged, breathless, in the lobby. People stared as he darted past them and out into the icy cold night.

  Kara felt herself drifting in and out of wakefulness. She knew Vince was holding her hand. Eric had been there, but he was gone. Handsome, strong Eric. She loved him so. Her parents stood alongside her bed and took her other hand. She felt light and airy, as if she could float right off the bed. Their hands seemed to be holding her down, anchoring her to earth.

  She wanted to speak to all of them, but she couldn’t. She wished they could read her mind. She would have told them, “I’m all right. Let me go.” She wished for peace—for them, and for herself. She knew how lucky she was to have such wonderful people in her life. Even her mysterious friend, the benefactor who had allowed her the joy of giving back what others had given to her.

  On the other side of her room, the lights on her Christmas tree glittered, piercing the darkened gloom with shimmering color. The delicate tree-top angel ornament appeared to be standing on the red heart-shaped pillow, and seemed to be beckoning to her. Kara watched the angel and felt peace settle over her spirit.

  Nineteen

  ERIC REFUSED TO attend Kara’s funeral. “How can you expect me to stand by and watch them put Kara into a dark hole?” he asked his grieving sister. “Funerals are barbaric.”

  Christy begged him to go. “Listen, you’re wrong. Funerals give a person a sense of closure. They’re a way to say good-bye one last time, a way for all of us who loved her to be together and remember her.”

  Remember her! Eric knew that if he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget Kara Fischer. But he couldn’t stand around a cemetery and cry like a baby, either. “I won’t go,” Eric insisted. “I don’t care if you think it’s wrong. I have my own memories, and I don’t want to share them.”

  Christy left directions to the cemetery, anyway. “In case you change your mind,” she said. “It’s okay if you arrive a little late.” She tried to hug her brother, but he turned away.

  “I’m not going,” he insisted stubbornly.

  Christy went alone. Eric sat alone in the apartment feeling cold and empty. He refused to let his tears flow. He told himself he was too old to cry. Girls cried. Babies cried. He wasn’t going to feel better no matter what he did.

  Two days before Christmas, Christy put up a tree. “Decorating one tree this year was enough for me,” he said, remembering the time he, Vince, and Elyse had set up the one in Kara’s room. “I just don’t feel like helping you, Christy.”

  “I don’t feel much like it, either, but I know Kara would have wanted us to go on with the holidays. What a lousy time of year to have to bury someone you love. I feel so sorry for her parents. She was everything to them.”

  Eric struggled to blot out the memory of their grief-stricken faces in the hospital. Suddenly, he felt as if the walls were closing in on him. “I’m going for a drive,” he said.

  Christy paused from draping silver icicles on the tree. “Be careful.”

  “Don’t keep saying that,” he snapped. “I’m not a kid. What do you think I’m going to do? Explode?”

  “I know that keeping your feelings bottled up inside isn’t good.”

  “Get off my case.” Eric felt angry. He knew he shouldn’t be yelling at Christy, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I can handle it. Life goes on, remember?”

  Eric slammed out of the house, got in his car, and drove. The December day was cold and gray. Eric shivered and turned on his car’s heater, then remembered it had stopped working. “Piece of junk,” he snarled, and smacked the dashboard with his fist. After New Year’s, he promised himself, he’d dump the car and look for another, more reliable one.

  He drove past the mall where he and Vince had taken Kara the day she’d been given a pass from the hospital. He’d give anything to see her again. The desire to see her overwhelmed him. It made no sense. She was dead and buried. Gone forever.

  Eric wasn’t sure how he ended up at the cemetery where Kara was buried, but he did. He slowly got out of his car, zipped up his sheepskin jacket, and walked through the open iron gate. Visitors ambled along footpaths, looking at headstones and grave markers and laying flowers. He had no idea where to go to look for her. He had no flowers to leave. Nothing to give.

  At the entrance was a gatehouse where an attendant was stationed to give directions to visitors. Eric’s lips felt stiff as he gave the man Kara’s name. He found the grave easily—the ground looked fresh and unsettled. Her marker held her name and the dates of her life span, along with the words: “And God will wipe away every tear.”

  Sadness swept through Eric, and he fought for composure. He sat on the cold ground, wrapped his arms around his pulled-up knees. He was startled by a voice that said, “I was wondering if you’d ever show up.”

  Eric turned, and faced Vince, then went back to staring at Kara’s grave. “What are you doing here?” he asked, wishing he could be alone, embarrassed because he’d been discovered.

  Vince crouched down. “I can’t stay away,” he confessed. “I come every day.”

  Eric stared up at the sky. Gray clouds scudded westward. They looked heavy with snow. “I miss her,” he said.

  “Me, too.”

  Eric thought Vince looked pale and exhausted. He looked too thin. “You okay?”

  Vince shook his head. “I want to be with her.”

  “That’s not such a good idea.”

  “How would you know?” Vince’s gaze was challenging. “You didn’t love her the way I did.”

  Eric clenched his jaw. “I loved her, all right.”

  “Just not enough to come to her funeral.”

  Eric balled his fist in the grass. “Listen. I couldn’t have handled it. I cared too much about her. I would have never made it through.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you, man?”

  Surprised by Vince’s tone, Eric cocked his head and looked directly at him. “What do you mean?”

  “It wasn’t about you, Eric. It was about Kara. It was about caring for her enough to show up and reach out to everybody else. Stop thinking about yourself, for once. Stop thinking about how much you hurt, and start thinking about how much we hurt.”

  Stunned, Eric gaped at Vince and saw raw grief on his face. A lump clogged Eric’s throat. Was that what he’d done by not attending Kara’s funeral? Had he been thinking only of himself and his pain. He knew Christy wept, but if he came into a room when she was crying, he would leave. Could his sister have needed him?

  Eric heard Vince take deep breaths as he fought for control. “Kara loved you, Eric,” Vince whispered miserably. “More than she loved me.”

  “Not more. Just differently.” Eric wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he was certain it was true.

  “I used to think about marrying her,” Vince admitted. “Making a home, a future, and all that stuff. Stupid, huh? Neither one of us with the life span of a gnat, but old Vince imagined we should take the plunge.”

  Eric recalled the night he’d held Kara in his arms in front of the fireplace. The emotions he’d felt for her coursed through him anew, making him ache. “She would have made a good wife.”

  Vince eyed him with a sharp, stabbing look. “You never—you know—never did anything with her, did you?”

  “No.” Eric looked away. He didn’t add that he had wanted to. Not making love to her the night they’d been alone together by the firelight had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He plucked blades of brown grass. “If you had married her, would your kids have had CF?”

  “Kids would have been impossible.” Vince’s voice had fallen to a whisper, and his face looked stricken. “Don’t you know? Guys with CF are sterile. We can’t ever have kids. CF girls can have babies, but not us guys.”
r />   The information all but knocked the wind out of Eric. Wasn’t there anything this disease left untouched? Vince turned his head and let go a deep, hacking cough. “You probably shouldn’t be sitting out here in the cold,” Eric said.

  “What’s it matter to you?”

  “It matters, Vince.”

  Together, they stared in silence at the ground. A cold wind rose up and swirled through the rows of headstones. Large, fat, wet flakes of snow began to hit the ground. “My mother used to tell me that whenever it rained, angels were crying,” Vince said. He held out his hand and caught a puddle of wet snowflakes in his palm. They melted instantly and ran off his hand into the ground. “If that’s true, they have a lot to cry about. I’ll bet we’ll have a long, hard winter.”

  Eric rose stiffly to his feet, reached down, and urged Vince up. Together, they walked toward their cars, without speaking.

  It was almost dark when Eric returned to Christy’s. The lights were twinkling on the tree, and the house smelled of cinnamon and warm apple cider. She practically jumped off the sofa when he came through the door. “You’re home,” she said, relief evident in her voice.

  Eric nodded. The warmth of the room engulfed him. She’d obviously been crying, but she hastily wiped her cheeks and came toward him. “Would you like some hot cider?”

  He could tell she was forcing herself to act cheerful for his sake. Her effort touched him, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do. “I stopped by the cemetery,” he said. His voice sounded thick to his own ears. “Vince was there. He’s in bad shape.”

  “And you?”

  For a moment, he couldn’t speak. Tears jammed behind his eyes. He tried to turn away, but Christy caught his arm and forced him to stand still. He struggled in vain against the dam of emotions, feeling naked and vulnerable in front of her. His shoulders hunched and began to heave as powerful sobs tore out of him from down deep inside.

  She caught him in her arms and held him, and together they wept. Eric felt no shame.

  Twenty

  ERIC PARKED IN front of Kara’s house and slowly got out of his car. He was surprised to see Vince’s car and his sister’s parked in the driveway. He thought Christy was at work. There was another car parked behind Christy’s, but he didn’t recognize it.

  The weak rays of the January sun caught on the windows of the cars and made him blink. On Monday, second term would start at school. Christmas break had lasted too long—and had been too lonely. Eric was looking forward to returning to classes.

  He rang the bell, and Kara’s mother opened the front door. She wore a red sweater, and her blond hair was held back by a large black bow. She looked like a slightly older version of Kara, which momentarily caught Eric off guard. “I’m glad you came,” she said, giving him a warm smile. He followed her inside.

  “You said you had something to tell me,” he said, then felt foolish for explaining what she already knew. She led him into the family room. There he saw Christy, Vince, and Elyse sitting on the sofa. Kara’s father sat in a chair, and another chair was next to it.

  “Sit down,” Mrs. Fischer pointed to a spot on the couch. “You know everyone.”

  Eric nodded greetings, caught Christy’s eye, but she only offered a baffled shrug of her shoulders. Eric realized that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what was going on.

  Kara’s mother passed around a plate of cookies and some soft drinks. Eric took both, not because he was hungry, but because he wanted to keep his hands busy.

  Kara’s mother sat beside her husband and picked up a folder from the table. “You’re here because we all cared for Kara. Ted and I appreciate how much you have done for our daughter.”

  Eric couldn’t imagine why they’d all been summoned. He shot Vince a sidelong glance, but Vince continued to stare straight ahead, ignoring him.

  “We asked you here because it’s what Kara asked us to do before she died,” Kara’s father continued.

  “Our daughter loved all of you very much,” Mrs. Fischer stated. “I didn’t realize how much every one of you was a part of her life until her final week in the hospital.”

  Eric shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to be reminded of that time.

  “It was Kara’s last wish to do something for each of you. Kara was special. We all knew that, and someone else did, too. This person has left Kara a great deal of money.” She glanced at her husband. “We’ve decided to keep the origins confidential, but it came from a person none of us has ever met. Knowing that someone—a caring, kind stranger—recognized Kara’s uniqueness is a blessing to her father and me. All of us in this room know it, but to have a stranger recognize it …” Mrs. Fischer’s voice caught, and Eric saw her eyes fill with tears.

  He controlled himself to keep from crying. Kara had been special; no one could ever doubt it.

  Kara’s mother shifted the papers in her hands and cleared her throat. “Kara wanted her father and me to disperse her gift to you—pass it along, so to speak. With my help, she wrote down what she wanted done. I want to read her words to you now.”

  Eric’s heart thudded, and he exchanged looks with Christy. Already, his sister’s eyes brimmed with tears. Kara’s mother began to read.

  “I’ll bet you all are sitting there feeling weird and thinking this is a scene out of a bad movie.”

  Everyone laughed, and the sound broke the tension in the room. Kara’s mother continued.

  “First of all, don’t be sad on my account. We all knew I was going to die. I wish I could have had more time—especially after meeting you, Eric—but I couldn’t.”

  Eric felt his face flush hot. He refused to glance at Vince. Eric tuned in again to Mrs. Fischer’s voice.

  “Unfortunately, we can’t ever buy more time; we have to make the best of what we have. Miss me, but don’t go overboard. That means you, Vince. I know this isn’t easy for you, but you can’t let it get you too far down. You’ve been healthy now for a while. Keep it up.

  “Because you all mean something special to me, I want to give something special to each of you. My parents are behind me one hundred percent, so none of you can say no. Is that clear?”

  Mrs. Fischer stopped reading and looked over at them. No one had anything to say. She looked back down at the paper.

  “Elyse … I want you to have a shopping spree—and I don’t want you to set foot in one discount store, either. Go first-class. I’m serious—I want you to buy anything you want for as long as the money holds out. Go crazy!

  “I also want you to have my art supplies. I valued them most. I know you’ll take good care of them for me.”

  Kara’s father left his chair and brought over Kara’s large sketch pad and a small envelope. As he handed these to Elyse he added, “I’ve boxed Kara’s art supplies, and I’ll put them in your car when you leave. There’s something in this sketch pad for you and for the others, as well as a personal note to each of you.”

  Elyse lifted the cover of the pad. On the top page was a large drawing of a smiling Elyse. She gasped. “It’s me! And it looks exactly like me.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever.”

  On the next page was a drawing of Vince dressed in his Halloween costume. He, too, was smiling and looked real enough to come off the page. Elyse carefully tore it out and handed it to a somber Vince. Vince took it and held it like a priceless crystal. Kara’s father also handed Vince an envelope.

  Eric’s mouth went dry as Elyse turned to the next page. She handed it to him, and he stared down at a mirror likeness of himself. In the drawing, Eric was grinning and leaning against the door of his car. He’d always suspected Kara knew the vulnerable part of him he tried to hide from other people. Seeing the drawing confirmed his suspicions. It was as if she’d looked inside his soul and put it on paper. Elyse tore off the page and gave it to him. He looked up as Kara’s father gave him an envelope. He saw his name written in Kara’s distinctive writing style and felt a knot in his throat.


  From across the room, Mrs. Fischer began to read while her husband retraced his steps and sat down in his chair.

  “Now, Vince, you’re next. I wanted you to have something that represents your future. You of all people know futures are hard to come by. I think that you’ve begun a weight lifting program that is super. But I also know how easy it may be for you to get off schedule if you land back in the hospital. So, I want you to buy yourself a home gym—a really good one that you can use whenever you feel like. Who knows? Maybe you can give Arnold a run for his money someday.”

  Vince sat upright, his mouth agape. “I don’t know what to say …”

  Eric remembered the day they’d been at the mall and had joked so openly about their hearts’ desires. Trust Kara to remember every detail.

  “And to you, Eric, I think it’s about time you got that car of yours fixed up. Exactly the way you want—in mint condition. You told me once it was a classic. Now you can have it looking like one. Spend the money and do whatever it takes to make it a winner.”

  Eric felt his chest constrict. Kara, if only he could talk to her, tell her all the things he should have said while she was still alive.

  “And now, last but not least, Christy.”

  Eric saw that his sister was crying freely now, the tears running openly down her face.

  “You were the sister I never had. Like my parents, you were there for me, day and night, anytime I needed you. Not only as a therapist, but as a friend. I can’t think of anyone who deserves more from life than you, or who has more to give. I know you’ve always wanted to be a doctor, and that you’ve been saving for medical school. Well, you should be a doctor. The money I’m giving you isn’t enough to send you straight through medical school, but it’s enough to get you started in a big way.