Sunset in St. Tropez (4 page)

“I promise to stay for the whole time,” she said solemnly, and meant it. For now at least.

“Then it's worth every penny,” Robert said, looking happy as they walked into the dining room arm in arm. They looked very distinguished together, and very cozy.

“Particularly with a sailboat,” she teased him. Sailing with him was one of her great pleasures, and it always reminded them of their early summers on Cape Cod, when the children were small.

All six of them talked animatedly about the house in St Tropez all night. It was a lively, friendly evening. They talked briefly as well about their work and their children, but for the most part, they talked about the villa and the time they were planning in France.

And as they sat drinking Chateau d"Yquem afterward, at the dining table, they felt the warm glow of the pleasure they had in store for them. It sounded like a perfect summer to all of them.

“I can even go down a few days before, if they let me, to get things organized and buy whatever we need for the house,” Pascale volunteered, although there wouldn't be much to add, the brochure said that the house came fully equipped with bed linens, towels, everything they needed in the kitchen, and Eric said he was sure that the couple who came with the house would probably have everything well in hand. “I don't mind going down before you all arrive,” Pascale said cheerfully, and even her husband smiled. They had come up with a very appealing plan.

It was nearly midnight when they finally disbanded, and the Morrisons and Smiths shared a cab to the East Side. It was still raining, but they were in high spirits, as Anne leaned back against the seat in the cab and smiled at them.

Robert suspected that he was the only one who noticed how tired she looked. She seemed exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Robert asked her gently after they dropped off the Morrisons. Anne had been quieter than usual in the cab, and he could see that she was tired. She had been pushing herself too hard again.

“I"m absolutely fine,” she said with less energy than conviction, “I was just thinking about how nice it's going to be to spend a month in France. I can't think of anything I'd rather do with you than have time like that, reading, relaxing, sailing, swimming. I just wish it weren't such a long time from now.” It seemed a long time to wait for their next vacation.

“So do I,” Robert echoed. The cab dropped them off in front of their house on East Eighty-ninth Street, and they rushed inside to get out of the rain, and as Robert watched Anne take off her coat in their comfortable apartment, he thought she looked pale. “I wish you'd take some time off before next summer. Why don't we take a long weekend, and go someplace warm for a few days?” He worried about her, he always had. She was the most precious person in his life. Even more than his children, Anne had always been his top priority. She was his lover, his confidante, his ally, his best friend. She was the hub of his existence.

When she'd been pregnant, and for the few times she'd been ill in their thirty-eight years together, he had treated her like antique glass.

He was, by nature, a very nurturing person. She loved that about him, his tenderness, his caring, his gentle spirit. She had seen that in him the first time she met him, and the years since had proven her right. In some ways, she was hardier than he was, tougher, stronger, and in some ways less forgiving. She was fierce when defending her clients" rights, or her children, but it was Robert who had always owned her heart. She didn't say it to him often, but theirs was a bond that had withstood the test of time, and needed few words. When they were younger, they used to talk more, about their hopes, their dreams, and how they felt. It was Robert who was the romantic, the dreamer who envisioned what the years ahead would be like. Anne was always more practical, and more wrapped up in their daily life. And as the years went on, there seemed to be less to talk about, less need to plan and look ahead. They just moved along, hand in hand, from year to year, satisfied with what they'd done, respectful of the lessons they'd learned. The only tragedy they had shared had been the loss of a fourth child, another daughter, at birth. It had devastated Anne at the time, but she had recovered quickly, thanks to Robert's support and kindness. It was Robert who had mourned the little girl for years, and who still talked about her from time to time. Anne had put it behind her, and instead of grieving for what she had lost, she was satisfied with what she had. But knowing how deeply Robert felt things, she was careful with his emotions, and unfailingly kind. He was the sort of person you wanted to shield from things that hurt him. Anne always seemed just a little better able than he was to take the blows that life dealt.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked as she slipped into bed beside him in a blue flannel nightgown. She was a handsome woman, not beautiful, but distinguished, elegant, and fine. And in some ways, he thought her even more attractive than he had when they were first married. She had the kind of looks that improved with time. She had worn well as his lifetime companion.

“Tomorrow, I want to sleep late, and read the paper,” she answered with a yawn. “Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow afternoon?” They liked going to the movies, usually foreign films, or serious ones, which more often than not made Robert cry. When they were younger, she used to tease him about it. Anne never cried in movies. But she loved his tenderness and soft heart.

“That sounds like fun.” They had a good time together, they enjoyed the same people, the same music and books, most of the same things, even more so now than in their early years. In the beginning, there had been more differences between them, but Robert had shared so much with her that over time, their tastes had merged, and their differences disappeared. What they shared now was intensely comfortable, like a huge feather bed into which they sank, hand in hand, with total ease.

“I"m glad Pascale found that house,” Anne said as she drifted off to sleep, cuddled up to him. “I think next summer is really going to be fun.”

“I can't wait to spend some time sailing with you,” he said, as he pulled her close to him. He had felt amorous toward her earlier that night, while they got dressed to go to the Donnallys", but she was so tired now, it would have seemed unfair to try and make love to her. She worked too hard, and pushed herself too much. He made a mental note to lecture her about it the next day, he hadn't seen her this tired in years. And as he held her in his arms, she fell asleep almost instantly, and a few minutes later, he was asleep too, snoring softly.

It was four o"clock in the morning when he woke up, and heard Anne in the bathroom, she was coughing, and it sounded as though she was throwing up. He could see the light under the bathroom door, and he waited a few minutes to see if she came back to bed. But ten minutes later, there was no sound, and she still hadn't emerged from the bathroom. He got up finally, and knocked on the door, but she didn't answer.

“Anne, are you okay?” He was waiting to hear her say that she was fine and for him to go back to bed, but there was no sound from within. “Anne? Sweetheart … are you sick?” The dinner Pascale had prepared had been delicious, but heavy and rich. He waited another minute or two, and then gently turned the knob and peeked in, and what he saw was his wife, lying on the floor, her hair disheveled, her nightgown askew. There was evidence that she'd been vomiting, she was unconscious, and her face was gray, her lips almost blue. The sight of her terrified him. “Oh my God … oh my God …” He checked her pulse, and he could still feel it, but he couldn't see her breathe. He wasn't sure whether to try to revive her, or call 911. And in the end, he ran for his cellular phone, returned to Anne rapidly, and called from the bathroom. He had tried to shake her, call her name, but Anne showed no sign of regaining consciousness, and Robert could see that her lips were turning a deep blue. The 911 operator was already on the phone by then, and he gave his name and address and told them his wife was unconscious and barely breathing.

“Did she hit her head?” the operator said in a businesslike tone, as Robert fought back tears of terror and frustration.

“I don't know … do something … please … send someone right away …” He put his cheek close to her nose, still holding the phone, but he could feel no breath on his face, and this time when he felt for her pulse, at first he thought it was gone, and then he picked it up again, but he could hardly feel it. It was as though she were rapidly slipping away from him, and he could do nothing to stop it. “Please … please help me … I think she's dying …”

“There's an ambulance on the way,” the voice said reassuringly, “but I need some more information from you. How old is your wife?” “Sixty-one.”

“Does she have a history of heart disease?”

“No, she was tired, very, very tired, and she's overworked,” and then without saying more, he put down the phone, and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, he could hear her breath catch and she let out a sigh, but there was no other sign of life from her. She was as gray as she had been before, as Robert picked up his phone again. “I don't know what's wrong with her, maybe she fainted and hit her head. She threw up …”

“Did she have chest pains before she got sick?” the voice asked.

“I don't know. I was asleep. When I woke up, I heard her coughing and getting sick, and when I came into the bathroom, she was passed out on the floor,” but as he said the words, he could hear sirens approaching, and all he could do was pray that it was an ambulance for her. “I hear an ambulance … is that ours?”

“I hope so. How does she look now? Is she breathing?”

“I"m not sure … She looks so terrible.” He was crying, terrified of what was happening, panicked by how she looked. And as he wrestled with everything he felt, the bell rang from downstairs, and he ran to press the buzzer in the hall to let them in. He unlocked the front door, and left it standing wide, and then rushed back to her. When he got back to Anne, nothing had changed, but within instants, the paramedics were on his heels, and standing in the bathroom. There were three of them, from fire rescue, and they pushed him aside and knelt over her. They listened to her heart, checked her eyes, and the man in charge told the other two to get her on the gurney they had brought, and all Robert could hear in the muddle of their words was “defibrillator,” as he followed them downstairs. He was still in his pajamas, and he barely had time to grab his coat and put on his shoes, as he shoved his phone into the pocket of his coat, grabbed his wallet off the dresser, and ran after them at a dead run. They already had Anne in the ambulance by the time he came outside, and he just had time to jump in next to her before they pulled away.

“What happened? What's happening to her?” He wondered if she had choked on something she vomited, and had been strangling quietly, but the paramedics told him that she had had a heart attack. And as they explained it to him, one of them tore open her nightgown and put the defibrillator on her chest. Her breasts were exposed, and Robert wanted to cover her, but he knew this was no time to worry about modesty. She looked like she was dying.

Her heart had stopped and she was already wearing an oxygen mask as Robert watched in horror as her whole body convulsed, and they did it again. “Oh my God … oh my God … Anne,” he whispered as he stared at her and took her hand in his, “baby … please … please …” Her heart started again then, but it was obvious that she was in dire straits, and Robert had never felt so helpless in his life. Only hours before, they had been having dinner with their friends, and she looked tired, but nothing that would have suggested something as dramatic as this, or he would have taken her to the emergency room right away.

The paramedics were too busy to talk to him, but they seemed satisfied with her condition momentarily, as they spoke to the nearest hospital on their radio, and Robert dialed Eric on his cellular, with shaking hands. It was four-twenty-five in the morning by then, and Eric answered on the second ring.

“I"m in an ambulance, with Anne,” Robert said in a shaking voice, “she had a heart attack, and her heart just stopped. They just started it again, oh God, Eric, she's gray and her lips are blue,” he was sobbing incoherently, as Eric instantly stood up and turned on the light, and Diana stirred. She was used to the late-night calls he got from the labor room, and she rarely woke up anymore, but something about the tone of his voice was different this time, and she opened an eye, and squinted up at him.

“Is she conscious?” Eric asked quietly.

“No … I found her on the bathroom floor … I thought maybe she hit her head … I don't know … Eric, she looks like … she …” He could barely string the words together.

“Where are they taking her?” “Lenox Hill, I think.”

It was only a few blocks away for him. “I'll be there in five minutes. I'll meet you in the emergency room, or Cardiac ICU. I'll find you … and Robert, she'll be okay … just hang in.” He wanted desperately to reassure him, and hoped he was right.

“Thank you” was all he could say, and he ended the call, as the paramedics held the defibrillator poised again, but her heart kept beating until they arrived at the hospital, and there was already a cardiac team waiting for her on the sidewalk there. They covered her with a blanket, and she was out of the ambulance and into the hospital before Robert could thank anyone, or say anything. The gurney virtually flew past him, and all he could do was run into the hospital behind her. They took her straight up to Coronary ICU, as Robert stood there feeling useless in his overcoat and pajamas. He suddenly looked and felt a thousand years old, and all he wanted to do was be with his beloved Anne. He didn't want to abandon her to strangers.

Within minutes, a resident came to ask him a series of questions, and five minutes later, Eric was standing in the corridor beside him, and Diana was with him. She had woken up the minute she had heard Eric"s questions to Robert, and insisted on coming to the hospital with him. They were both wearing jeans and raincoats, and desperately worried faces. But Eric was at least outwardly calm, and knew to ask the right questions. He went inside the coronary unit, and left Robert with Diana. And when he came back, it was obvious that he didn't have good news.