Authors: Bill Rolfe
She couldn’t contain her excitement. “Thank you, oh thank you, Daniel. I promise it will only be one child at a time, and there will always be someone here with them, either myself or Brenda, the nurse I work with.”
Daniel wondered how she could continue to speak without breaking for air.
In a somewhat joking mood, she assured him, “And I will help you finish the place the way you want, so you have three good hands instead of one.” She chuckled as she wiped the tears of joy from her eyes.
Though caught off guard by her request, Daniel responded to the joy she exuded, recognizing also that there would now be plenty of time that they could spend together.
“Hello, Nancy.” Daniel spoke slowly into the phone.
“Daniel! Where are you? Are you home already?”
“No, I’m still in England. Just settling in, actually. There’s a little more work needed on the old place than I’d expected. Any news I should hear about?”
“Not really. Mr. Rothschild has been in and out for files, but he’s got things under control, and enjoying it, I might say.”
“Yeah, he’s been off the field for a long time, but he still has more game than any of us.” They shared a laugh.
In his day, Art had been the best in the business. He could have charged his clients three times the normal commission and they still would have stayed with him. Even though he had a waiting list of people wanting to use his services, he still charged just the industry standard, in keeping with his honest and fair belief system.
“Could you put me through to him, please, Nancy; and take this number off the call display for emergencies. I’ll call you soon with an update.”
“Right away, Daniel. Good luck with the house, and just call if you need me to do anything.”
“Rothschild.” Art always answered with his last name, as if it were the only one in the book.
“Art, it’s Daniel.”
“Well, Daniel Clay, if you’re downstairs, you’re fired,” he exclaimed only half-jokingly.
“No, no, I’m still in England. How’s everything going?”
“Fine. You shouldn’t need to ask,” Art said, somewhat disturbed at the idea it might be of any concern.
“Great. Listen, Art, this house needs a little more work and a market appraisal before listing. I could be here a couple of weeks, unless you need me back sooner.”
Right then, Art knew there was more to Daniel’s extended absence request than dealings with a property. Art was too smart a man, and knew his protégé too well, to think for a second that some old house would keep him a day longer than it had to.
“Daniel, you listen to me. Your clients are happy, and they are yours again when you return. I have other things to keep me busy when that day comes. Until then, you stay as long as you need to take care of that…house.”
Daniel recognized from Art’s tone that he wasn’t falling for the house excuse. “Thanks, Art. You’re too good to me. I left my number with Nancy in case of an emergency, and I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way home.”
They both hung up. For the first time in his career, Daniel had something other than work taking priority in both his schedule and mind.
After his phone call, he swept the main floor and dusted out cupboards in the kitchen; however, his mind was really fixated on his dinner date a few nights before.
A knock at the door interrupted his cleaning and he rushed to answer with anticipation. This time, he opened it to find Claire standing in her nurse’s uniform, with a well-suited gentleman at her side. Daniel froze for a second, only to thaw upon hearing her words: “Daniel, this is my superior, Dr. Abrams.”
This came as a relief, squashing his concern that the man might be someone more personal, with an emotional attachment.
“Welcome, Dr. Abrams.” As they walked in, Claire grabbed Daniel’s arm and winked at him.
This was the first physical contact he’d had with her, and it numbed his entire side. She asked approval to show the doctor the glass-encased room, even though she was already heading for the stairs.
Daniel could see the doctor was here as a favor and wasn’t really interested in the whole proposal. He had a blank expression on his face, but it was obvious he was an intelligent man. He had facial hair well groomed into a thin beard and mustache. Its grayness added to his air of being well schooled. Slightly taller than Daniel, he was easily capable of intimidating most people with whom he came into contact.
Now up in the room, Dr. Abrams looked out the window, seemingly unimpressed, and asked questions of Claire that Daniel couldn’t understand.
“What about the echo machine?”
“Right here, Doctor.” Claire pointed to some outlets in the wall.
He rudely asked about three or four more medical devices before he turned to Daniel. “Who is this man?”
Before he could answer, Claire jumped in to defend Daniel. “This is Daniel Clay. He is from New York and has graciously offered us the use of this room temporarily, at no cost to the hospital.
“But you’re not a doctor, are you
Mr
. Clay?”
“No, Doctor, Daniel is a…” She paused self-consciously.
Daniel wasn’t sure if he had informed her of his profession or if she had simply forgotten what he did for a living. A few weeks ago, this would have been devastating to him; now it didn’t faze him.
“Dr. Abrams, I’m an investment advisor,” he said with pride, though feeling a little uncomfortable with his casual attire. “And, yes, I would like to offer this room to the hospital for Claire’s use. I will pay to prepare it with any outlets and additions you require.”
This shocked Claire. This wasn’t part of the request, but she pretended as though it had always been understood.
“I’d like to sleep on it,” he said and walked back toward the stairs.
Claire touched Daniel’s arm again, this time to assure him that she would be calling soon to thank him for the help. They left as fast as they had come, and Daniel returned to work, wondering if he was getting in over his head. However, there was no time commitment required on his part, and having company around the house would make it a more enjoyable undertaking, especially if it meant more time with Claire.
He worked through the day, taking breaks from time to time and checking the phone to make sure a dial tone was still audible. He was disappointed that there was no call from Claire before he retired for the night, but he reassured himself that it was only a late shift or work emergency that kept her from making contact.
Two cars—driven by Claire and Brenda—pulled up to the house; both vehicles were filled with supplies. Daniel had been up for hours, still fixing up his sleeping space in hopes of sharing it in the near future.
“I take it you have the go-ahead!” he shouted from the doorstep across the driveway.
“We do! Daniel, this is Brenda. She will be working here with the children during the day, and I’ll be taking the night shifts.” She came close to him and whispered, “If that’s okay with you.”
Her glance assured him that the work on his bedroom would not be without rewards.
“That sounds good to me. Let me give you ladies a hand.”
Daniel helped unpack the weighted-down cars and insisted on carrying the heavier objects up the stairs. Brenda was quiet, rarely acknowledging him during the several trips up and down as they passed one another. They made eye contact only once when he nearly dropped a box. It was filled only with towels and bedsheets and hardly warranted the stern glance.
She was Claire’s close coworker but was dissimilar in every way except for her care of children. She was much older, nearing retirement, and had no time for casual conversation or discussions of any kind while working. Her little white nurse’s hat was part of her wardrobe, regardless of whether she was on duty or not. It helped hide her thinning gray hair, and she found it preferable to any curly wig suggested at her salon.
By early evening, the room was finished; Brenda re-cleaned it before she headed outside toward her car. She came across as unhappy and not particularly concerned about anything going on around her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Claire, and you too, Daniel.”
They both responded with their good-byes.
Once they were alone, Daniel turned to Claire. “Tomorrow?” he questioned with a little concern in his voice.
“Well, that’s what I was hoping to talk to you about tonight,” Claire spoke and became as nervous as she had been earlier.
“Listen, Daniel, I want you to know that you can stop me anytime. Right now, if you choose, and I will completely understand. This has been my doing, and I maybe shouldn’t have dragged you in. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think it would help the children a little.” Guilt showed on her face as she struggled for the appropriate apologies.
“Claire, I guess I just don’t totally understand the benefits of them coming here yet.”
Sitting on the foot of the bed, she motioned for him to join her, knowing that the conversation was required but would be difficult.
“I thought these kids were really sick. I guess I’m just a little curious how this room can help them.”
Claire stared at the floor, then into his eyes, and took his hand, “Do you understand what I really do for these children?”
“Yes, you are a nurse. You take care of them and try to make them better,” he replied, as though defining her job to a classroom.
“No, Daniel. I’m a nurse for terminally ill children. My job is to make them comfortable while they pass on.”
Daniel surveyed the equipment just delivered in a completely new manner. He now realized that the room wasn’t meant to help anyone get better, but to comfort them before death. He left the room immediately, went quickly downstairs, and out onto the front porch.
After allowing him a moment of solitude, Claire walked up behind him. “I can still call the whole thing off. It’s not too late, really.”
“Why here, though? There must be better equipment, or drugs or doctors and stuff, at the hospital?”
“Equipment for what, Daniel? There is nothing we can do for these children.”
Claire took his hand. “I want to show you something.” She walked him to her car.
A quiet drive was just what Daniel needed to allow all of his thoughts to digest. He didn’t ask where they were going, trusting that Claire had a purpose for the unscheduled journey back to town.
When they arrived at the familiar location, his nerves tightened in anticipation of what he might have been brought here to see. As they walked through the hospital, their hands were locked tight. Daniel glanced into every room they passed until they came upon one that was empty. Claire entered it first and opened the blinds to the small hazy windows; then she asked Daniel to have a seat on the bed.
“Look around this room, Daniel.”
He did but seemed unimpressed and missed Claire’s point.
“Now, see out the window.” Daniel noticed a few empty spaces in the parking lot and a man dumping the trash.
“This is how most of the children in here spend their last day. Seeing this room and outside this window.”
There was a moment of silence while Daniel tried to register his thoughts.
“I want these kids to feel alive. For once in their horrible pain, I want them to feel alive. The way they could in your room.”
Her message was received. His eyes told her that he now understood. It was all right to proceed with the plan.
“But I have to tell you, Daniel, it isn’t easy to watch this process. You have to be strong for the children, so they don’t fear anything themselves. If it becomes too much, you have to tell me and we can stop the visits. Promise me, okay?”
“Yes, as long as you are there with me, I think I will be all right.”
She touched his face and smiled tenderly. They moved closer toward each other, their lips eager, but they were interrupted by a patient being wheeled into the room.
“Hello, Claire,” one of the nurses said.
She responded gracefully, instantly catching herself from her unexpected behavior within the hospital walls. She took Daniel by the hand and quickly returned to the car for the drive back to the house.
Once they arrived, she thanked him again and told him to call her at work if he had any problems. Brenda’s words came back to him like a flash. “Right, so you won’t be here tomorrow?”
“Not during the day. But Brenda will come and bring Jennifer. She’s six and has a form of incurable cancer. She hasn’t been well this week, which is why we were rushing to get the room done. I’m sorry to move so fast, Daniel.”
“No, no, I’m ready. So I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“And you’ll be staying the night?”
“Yes. Jennifer and I will sleep right upstairs if you need anything,” she added, holding back a smile.
“I see. Well then, see you tomorrow night.”
He left her in the car and headed inside. In need of some reflection to recap the day’s events, he skipped dinner, brushed his teeth, and went straight to bed.
He woke early and jumped into the outside chores. The hot sun rose and warmed the air. Working in the front yard, he could see dust from the roadway leading to his house. He felt his stomach tighten but was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was Mrs. Lipton, the realtor, wife of the hardware store owner. He had forgotten that they had loosely arranged her visit days ago.
She climbed out of the light pink Cadillac she used as a traveling office and straightened her oversized floral dress. She was a heavyset woman but reconciled to her size, and she dressed flamboyantly with bright colors and large hats.
After a brief introduction, she got right to the point. It soon became apparent from her manners that she hadn’t sold anything for a while and didn’t really care if she did. She reminded him of an old teacher from high school. It was obvious that she hadn’t been happy in a while; and she seemed more interested in maintaining the ashes on the end of her cigarette than engaging in conversation.
“So, what do you want for it?” She readied her notepad.
“Well, I’m not sure yet. Where could I get an appraisal?”
This seemed to confuse Mrs. Lipton and, at the same time, irritate her.
“My husband tells me to drive out here because you want to sell the place. So do you?”
“Yes, but…”
“Well, I can’t sell it if you don’t tell me what you want for it!” She shook her head as if she were educating a child.
“I understand, ma’am.” This irritated her more. “But I want to know what it’s worth before I try to price it. Doesn’t that sound like a smart thing to do?”
Now she was offended.
“Well, Mr. Clay, when you’re finished smartening up, here is my card.” She turned and waddled back to her car.
Daniel wanted to stop her, maybe even apologize, but it was too late. He hadn’t noticed Brenda pulling up to the house. He couldn’t see anyone sitting in the passenger seat. He took a deep breath and hoped for the possibility that she was alone. But she wasn’t. After exiting the car, she walked around to the passenger side and opened the door to the rear seats.