Page 48 of Don't Tell Me How to Die

Connie was behind the wheel. She came to a stop just at the edge of our blanket.

Mom jumped up, and I scrambled to my feet and hid behind her. “That’s my car,” she yelled.

“It was,” Connie said. “And now it’s mine.”

“I want my car,” Mom said. “And my husband. Give them back.”

“Never,” Connie screamed. “I’m keeping them both.”

I waited for my mother to do something, but she didn’t move. And then I realized shecouldn’tmove.

“Maggie,” she said. “Don’t let that woman take Daddy.”

I tried to stop Connie, but I could barely move either. It was that familiar sensation when I’m trying to run, but I can’t cover any ground. Panic set in, and at some point I knew I was dreaming. I knew I wasn’t eight years old, and I knew it was impossible for my mother to meet Connie, but I couldn’t fight my way out of the dream.

And then it ended. Actually, there was no ending. The dream had no conclusion. No finale. I just woke up, and it was over.

After I had talked to Beth in the library, I had walked to Magic Pond and sat there trying to figure out what to do. Beth’s best advice was to tell my father. But I dreaded how he might react. What if I showed him Connie’s prison record, and he said something crazy like,“I knew that. She told me all about it, and I’m okay with it. She’s reformed now, and I love her. Why the hell did you have to get the goddam librarian involved?”

Later that evening my father had called me and said that he and Connie were wiped out from shopping and had decided to spend the night in the city. As soon as I hung up, I wondered if he’d been telling the truth, or if there were quickie marriage chapels in New York like there were in Vegas.

Lizzie went out with friends, came back at eleven, and went to bed. I spent the night at home alone, writing in my journal and watching TV. The last thing I did before I fell asleep at midnight was reread the LexisNexis printout.

And then my mother came to me in that dream.

Now it was daylight, Sunday morning, and I laid in bed, wide-awake and half smiling because I’d been able to spend some time with her. And it was just the two of us, and we had been at our favorite place in the world.

But I’d disappointed her. She couldn’t stop Connie from taking away my father, and I couldn’t help. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said softly.

I stared at the ceiling, and it came to me. “On second thought,” I said, “I’m notthatsorry. Why did you ask the eight-year-old me to stop Connie? Why didn’t you ask the seventeen-year-old me?”

I heard the answer as clear as if my mother were standing in the room beside me.“I did ask the seventeen-year-old you. Remember our last picnic at the pond, when I told you I was dying? I told you what happened to Bernadette Brennan’s husband when she died. I said I know it’s a terrible burden, but I’ll die happier knowing you’ll be there to love your father, watch over him, and keep the predators from digging their claws into him.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, smiling up at the ghost of my mother. “You did ask me, didn’t you?”

She hadn’t asked Beth. Or Johnny Rollo. Or Grandpa Mike. And she certainly couldn’t count on my father to take care of himself. So she asked her two daughters.

And we’d both said yes. But Lizzie had fallen for Connie’s lies. She’d been duped just like my father had.

That left me.

“Maggie,”I could hear my mother say.“Don’t let that woman take Daddy.”

Only this time I wasn’t dreaming.

TWENTY-NINE

I showered, dressed, and turned on ESPN. It was week fourteen of the football season, and both New York teams were on TV. The Jets were playing Buffalo at one o’clock, and the Giants were playing Tampa Bay at four. McCormick’s, with its state-of-the-art thirty-two-inch SONY TV sets, would be wall-to-wall with hungry, thirsty, rowdy fans, so I knew my father would take an early-morning train back to Heartstone.

He called from the bar at eleven. “You and Lizzie okay?”

“Another boring night in suburbia,” I said. “How was the big city?”

“Crowded and expensive, but we had a good time. I’ll be working late. I should be home around ten. Call me if you need me.”

My plan was to confront his jailbird girlfriend. I doubted if I’d need him.

“You bet,” I said. “Love you, Dad.”

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