We passed through the kitchen. The dishes had been washed and were set on a wire rack next to the sink. On a table in the small dining nook lay a hardcover book, opened and turned over to mark her place. I cringe whenever I see a book bent in such a fashion. I was sorely tempted to reach down and close it. This was a personal peeve of mine. I could see no reason to break a book's spine when a bookmark would serve just as well.
Looking out the window, Macy announced, "Harvey's out back, sitting in his chair. He spends far too much time doing that. He never used to." Worry tinged her voice. "I have a feeling he's had another bad day."
Even now I wasn't sure what she expected me to do. I'd talk to Harvey and determine what I could, but I had no promises to give her.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back door. "Let me introduce you."
"Okay, only--"
I wasn't allowed to finish before she half dragged me outside. "Harvey," she called. "I'd like you to meet Michael, the man I was telling you about." Then she turned to me and whispered, "This is just for show." With that, she looped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. Turning back to Harvey, she said, "You were right all along. I was besotted from the moment we met."
Besotted? Who used a word like besotted?
Harvey regarded me for a minute or so before he revealed any expression. It could have been a smile or a scowl, but frankly it was hard to distinguish which. "I can only imagine what she did to con you into coming by," he muttered.
"You're better off not knowing," I said.
He gave a snort of laughter, then gestured toward the house. "There's another chair over there. Help yourself." He looked at Macy next. "I've got a couple of beers in the fridge. Why don't you get them for us?"
She seemed more than eager to comply, even though he hadn't offered her one. "Coming right up."
We both climbed over the low fence, and Sammy jumped after us. She bounced into the house with the mutt close on her heels. The three cats had decided to stay at her place.
I carried the folding lawn chair next to Harvey and sat down. Macy was back with the two beers, which she handed us. Then she disappeared again, leaping over the fence as if she'd done it a thousand times, which undoubtedly she had.
"So you're that doctor fellow she's been talking about," Harvey said. He took a swallow of beer and closed his eyes, either to savor the taste or allow a moment of pain to pass.
I took a sip of my own beer and had to admit it hit the spot.
"Before you start asking a lot of discreet questions, I should tell you I'm not going to make an appointment with any friends of yours. Nor am I willing to undergo any medical tests. I know what's wrong with me."
This was a relief. "So tell me and save me the bother of answering Macy's questions later."
"I'm dying," the old man said matter-of-factly. "It doesn't get much simpler than that."
"Of what?" I asked. Given his age, that seemed possible, and if he wasn't willing to have any tests or submit to a physical, I had no choice but to accept his self-diagnosis-- at least until I saw firm evidence to the contrary.
"Can't say for sure. Cancer maybe, but it could be my heart."
"What are your symptoms?"
"Different ones. I get weak when I didn't used to. At first I thought it was my age, but now I know it's more than that. Used to be I could work in my yard all day and not get tired. Lately it's all I can do to water the garden. I have pains in my chest. No fever, though, which means it's not malaria."
"I suggest--"
"In case you didn't understand me before, I'll repeat myself. I'm not interested in anything you have to suggest that will lengthen my life. I've lived a lot of years. Like everyone else, I have a few regrets, but I'm ready to die."
"Macy--"
"It's time Macy learned she needs to let go of me." "She loves you," I told him.
Harvey exhaled loudly as though burdened by her love. "She loves those cats of hers, too. Never met anyone quite like her. She collects animals and people the way someone else might collect baseball cards or ceramic frogs. I tried to discourage her when she moved in after her grandmother died. I think Lotty must've asked her to keep an eye on me. That would be just like the old bat. The last thing I need is Macy constantly fussing over me."
"I hear you."
The old man eyed me closely.
"My wife--"
"You're married?" Harvey interrupted. His gaze narrowed menacingly.
"Was. I'm a widower," I corrected. "Hannah, in the end, didn't want any more medical intervention. No heroic measures."
"I remember--" he nodded in the direction of Macy's house "--she told me about your wife. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," I murmured. "I just wanted to let you know I understand how you feel."
"It's a matter of dignity. I prefer to face death on my own terms."
I remembered those had been Hannah's words, too. "Is there anything I can do to help with the pain?" I asked. The current drugs would ease his final months.
Harvey shook his head. "No, thanks."
Macy reappeared, carrying a platter with cheese and crackers. I watched as she popped a cracker in her mouth. "I brought you a few munchies," she said.
"What for?" Harvey demanded.
"I thought you might be hungry," she said, smiling down at him, obviously accustomed to his gruff manner. She sat on the grass beside me.
"I'm not interested."
Harvey might not be, but I was. I reached for a slice of cheese.
"I wouldn't eat that one if I were you," Macy said in a muted voice.
"Why not?"
"I think Snowball licked it before I had a chance to shoo him away."
"Snowball is a he?" I probably should've asked why she hadn't just removed that piece of cheese from the plate. Instead, I was struck by the fact that the white puffball was male.
Macy stretched out her legs and leaned back on her hands. "He's never forgiven me for naming him that, either."
"Then change his name." The solution seemed simple.
"Can't. I tried, but I see him as Snowball, and nothing else seems to suit him now. Besides, all his medical records are in that name. It's too confusing to make the switch."
Harvey sighed. "Just accept what she says without asking a lot of questions. It's easier that way."
I could see his point.
Macy joined the conversation, telling us about the mural and the patients she'd seen coming in and out during the day. Sammy lay next to her, as close as he could get without sitting right on her.
It soon became apparent that Harvey had tired himself out and needed to go inside. I started to help him up, which he didn't appreciate, slapping my hand away. "Leave me alone," he snapped, "and allow an old man his pride."
Macy stood beside me and watched as her friend and neighbor walked slowly toward his house. The instant he was out of earshot, she bombarded me with questions.
"Well?" she asked, sounding nearly breathless. "Can you tell what's making him so weak? He's sick, isn't he? I mean, really sick? Were you able to convince him to make a doctor's appointment? You led into that subtly, I hope."
"Let's go inside and talk," I said, dreading this conversation. I hadn't been eager to meet Harvey, but to my surprise I liked the old man.
I followed her lead, climbing over the low fence, Sammy by our side, accompanying us every step of the way.
"It's bad, isn't it? You don't need to mince words with me. I just want the truth. Don't be afraid to tell me." She was walking backward as we crossed her yard. We entered her small house through the back porch.
I gestured to a chair in the breakfast nook and, once she'd sat down, I pulled out the adjacent chair, turning so that I faced her directly.
She blinked at me. "He's dying, isn't he?"
I nodded rather than speak the words aloud.
"We've got to do something," she insisted, half rising out of her chair.
I gently placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her down. "Macy, he knows he's dying and it's all right with him."
"It isn't with me!"
"Harvey's ready to die."
"He might be, but I'm not ready to lose him." Big tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
"It's not really up to you."
"What do you mean?"
"At the end of her life, Hannah refused further chemotherapy," I told her, my voice low and to my embarrassment riddled with remembered pain. "She knew it was useless and asked me to let her die. I wanted to keep her with me as long as I could, but that would've been selfish. I had to accede to her wishes. Harvey is asking the same of you."
Macy sniffled and the cats gathered around her feet as if to offer comfort. Sammy stood guard and eyed me, his message clear--if I made one wrong move I'd pay.
"I'm sorry," I said and instinctively put my arms around her. Then for reasons I may never understand, I bent down, moving my head toward hers, and sought out her lips. We kissed. This wasn't a peck on the cheek or the friendly kiss I'd exchanged with Winter and Leanne. This was a Kiss with a capital K, a real kiss that shocked me to the very marrow of my bones.
We broke apart as if we'd suddenly realized what we were doing. Macy looked, if anything, even more unsettled than I felt.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?" She couldn't possibly be thanking me for the kiss.
"For spending time with Harvey and for telling me about Hannah's request."
"Sure," I said, striving for levity. "Happy to help."
I left shortly afterward, confused about what had made me kiss Macy and, more importantly, why I'd enjoyed it so much.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I didn't sleep well that night. I wasn't surprised when Macy didn't show up on Thursday. By her own admission she wasn't good at completing projects. But this mysterious absence was due to more than that. I knew it in my gut, the same way I knew the kiss we shared was special. "Have you heard from Macy today?" I asked Linda. I didn't want to say too much but I was curious. She might have called with a plausible excuse that Linda hadn't bothered to pass on.
"No. You mean you haven't, either?" Linda's eyes narrowed slightly. "You didn't say anything to upset her, did you?"
"Me?" I asked. I shot Linda a hard look, but not because I was angry. I might be her employer, but every so often she slipped into the role of substitute mother. I was astonished at how willing Linda was to come to Macy's defense.
I tried to minimize my interest by saying in a calmer voice, "I'm sure Macy will be in later this afternoon. If not, she'll be here tomorrow."
"I'm sure she will," Linda said, then added, "We just love her."
I looked to my trusted nurse for an explanation. I didn't quite understand how this had happened. Had they all fallen for Macy? In less than two weeks?
Linda's mouth quirked with the beginnings of a smile. "Well, first, I don't suppose you've noticed, but she chats with all the children before and after their visits."