“John? Is that all right?”

“Maybe some other time.”

“Now is the time. I want to remember this day for the rest of our lives, and I want it to end on the back porch with the sun going down and a drink in our hands.”

“All right… but if anyone says to me, ‘John, I’m surprised to see you here after you ruined your life and ran off,’ I’m going to punch him.”

Susan laughed and said, “If anyone says that, we’ll both beat him up.”

“Deal.” I said, “Well, I need to freshen up.”

“I’ve unpacked all your things, and I’ve separated your laundry for the cleaning lady. You need to go to the dry cleaner tomorrow.” She then pointed out, “You’ve hardly brought enough to wear.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll have Sophie – that’s my cleaning lady, she’s Polish, but speaks good English – I’ll have her press your black suit.” She added, unnecessarily, “You’ll need it soon.”

“Thank you.” I was relieved to discover that Susan hadn’t learned to wash or iron in the last ten years; that would have destroyed my image of her.

She reminded me, “But first, we need to stop at Fair Haven.”

“All right.”

“I would invite Elizabeth to join us for dinner – I know she’s free because I canceled her dinner date – but I’m sure she wants to maintain her vigil at her mother’s bedside, and also this is our first night together.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I did ask her, quite bluntly, if anything happened between you two last night.”

“And now you know that nothing happened. I am disappointed that you didn’t believe me, and I’m frankly surprised that you’d ask her that question, but-”

“I didn’t ask her, John.”

“Oh…”

“I can’t believe you’d even think I would ask her.”

“What do I know?” Meaning, about women.

Susan said to me, “But she did offer to explain her overnight stay, and I told her you’d already addressed that.”

“Good. So that’s settled. Again.” I glanced at my watch and said, “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll go up with you.”

We went back inside, climbed the stairs, and entered our bedroom suite. We brushed our teeth at the same sink, as we’d done so many times, and Susan touched up her makeup while I washed Casa Bellarosa off my hands and face.

I found a reasonably clean shirt hanging in my old closet, and Susan slipped on a nice white summer dress that looked good against her tan.

I used to think that Susan took too much time with her preparations, but after ten years of waiting for other women, I realized that Susan was actually fast. She is a natural beauty, and she doesn’t spend forever in front of the mirror or in her closet. It occurred to me that this time around, I’d appreciate her more. At least for the first few weeks.

She actually finished first and asked, “Ready?”

“I can’t find my comb.”

“It’s in your jacket, where it always is.”

I checked and, sure enough, it was there.

So we went downstairs, left the house, and she gave me a set of keys, saying, “These are yours.”

“Thank you.”

I locked the front door, and she noticed, but didn’t comment.

We used her Lexus, and I drove. As we passed the gatehouse, Susan said to me, “I called Soheila, as a courtesy, and told her you’d moved in with me.”

“Did she say you were a fallen woman?”

“No, John. She wished me luck.”

“That’s nice.” I reminded her, “I need to move back into the gatehouse when your parents arrive.”

“No. If they don’t like the arrangement, they can find other accommodations.”

I replied, with total insincerity, “I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your parents.”

She had no response to that, but said, “I e-mailed my parents and the children and told them that Ethel has slipped into a coma.”

“All right.”

I turned onto Grace Lane and headed toward Fair Haven Hospice House.

Susan hit the CD button and Bobby Darin was singing “Beyond the Sea.”

We rode in silence, listening to the music.

It was only eleven days until the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, and the sun was still high on the horizon, and the pleasant landscape was bathed in that special late afternoon summer sunlight, and a nice land breeze blew out to the Sound.

This had been the best of days, and the worst of days. But on balance, it was more good than bad. Unless, of course, you were Ethel Allard, or even Anthony Bellarosa, for that matter. But for Susan and me, it had been a very good day.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Susan called ahead to Elizabeth’s cell phone, so we knew that Ethel’s condition hadn’t changed, and when we arrived at Fair Haven, Elizabeth met us in the lobby. She was wearing a nice blue linen outfit, and she may have come here in what she’d worn to church after getting the call about her mother.

We exchanged hugs and kisses, and Susan and I expressed our sorrow at this turn of events. Elizabeth appeared composed and somewhat philosophical about her mother’s imminent demise, which, she informed us, Dr. Watral said would likely come within forty-eight hours.

Elizabeth, I thought, seemed friendlier to Susan than to me, and in fact, she barely spoke to me. Well, I understood that; we’d shared some pleasant and even intimate time together, and we were both lonely souls who thought maybe this was the start of something. And then Fate stepped in, as it does, and realigned the triangle.

Elizabeth asked us, “Would you like to see her?”

Susan replied, “Of course.”

So we took the elevator up to Ethel’s room, where a nurse sat in a chair in the corner, reading a romance novel. Ethel was connected to a few more tubes than the last time I’d seen her, but she seemed peaceful.

The window blinds were pulled this time, and the room was dark, except for the nurse’s reading lamp and the indirect cove lighting over Ethel’s bed.

Elizabeth said to us, “The doctor assures me she isn’t feeling any pain, and she does look so peaceful.”

Susan moved to Ethel’s bedside, took her hand, and leaned close to her face. She whispered, “God bless you, Ethel, and a safe journey home.” She kissed Ethel on the cheek and said, “Thank you for the hot chocolate and cookies.”

I took a deep breath, moved to Ethel’s bed, took her hand, and said to her, “Tell George I said hello when you see him.” And Augustus, too. I let her know, “Susan and I are together again.” I knew she was in a deep coma, but I thought I felt her squeeze my hand. I kissed her and said, “Goodbye.”

Well, there was little more to say after that, so the three of us went into the hallway and Elizabeth said to us, “Thank you for stopping by.”

Susan, feeling some guilt perhaps, or knowing that Elizabeth would not leave her mother’s bedside, offered, “We’re going to dinner at Seawanhaka. Why don’t you join us?”

Elizabeth smiled and replied, “That’s very kind of you, but I need to stay here.” She explained, “I’ve called a few people, who said they would come by.” She looked at me and let me know, “Your mother is coming soon, if you’d like to wait for her.”

I didn’t, so I replied, “I would, but my mother often loses track of time.” I remembered to say, “Please tell her I’m sorry I missed her.”

I thought Susan was going to give me an argument, but she didn’t.

I didn’t want to stay here any longer and run into Harriet, or the Reverend Hunnings, or anyone else I might not want to see, but I thought I should let Elizabeth know, “I’ve moved out of the gatehouse.”

She nodded and said, “I know.”

“So, you have full access to the house, and you can make arrangements to remove the furniture and personal items.” I added, “I’ll speak to Nasim about a reasonable amount of time to vacate the premises.”

She nodded again, looked at me, and said, “Thank you. And thank you also, John, for all you’ve done.”