Page 96 of Don't Tell Me How to Die

Twenty-six years later I loved the man beyond words, and I trusted him beyond measure. He was the only person with whom I could share the devastating news I’d just heard from Dr. Brubaker. Once again, my need to sweep the ugly parts of my life under the rug kept me from telling even my closest confidants—including my husband.

But that afternoon, in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot in the West Bronx, I told Johnny everything—every transgression, every secret, every fear. For over an hour Johnny helped me work out a plan for moving forward.

By the time we were done, I was sapped. The emotions of the day and the sugar high from the donuts left me exhausted. I curled up in the back seat and slept till we got to the Heartstone train station parking lot.

Johnny waited while I got into my car, then he followed me home, and kept me in his sight until the garage door shut behind me.

Alex was in the family room. “You look exhausted,” he said, getting up and giving me a hug.

“If that’s your subtle man-trick way of asking me if I’m too frazzled to fornicate, the answer is, sorry, sweetheart, but I’m toast.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about that, but I’m happy to hear that you at least entertained the possibilities. Why don’t you turn in?”

“Not yet.” I plopped down in a corner of the sofa. “I’ve got a couple of things on my mind that I need to talk to you about.”

“The doctor is in,” he said, giving me his best bedside-manner smile.

“Have you thought about life after I’m gone?”

The smile faded, and his face grew grim. “For God’s sake, Maggie, what kind of question is that? Of course I have. Hell, ever since that night at Mohonk, I’ve been obsessing over it. The kids will need therapy. What will their lives be like to grow up without their mother? Parenting is difficult enough with two parents. What happens when there’s only one? And am I good enough to be that one, especially when I’m trying to deal with my own grief?”

“When my mother died,” I said, “my father was so busy taking care of everybody else that he stopped taking care of himself, and... well, you know what happened.”

“How could I not know? You told me all about it on our first date. The story of how Finn got suckered in by a con artist is McCormick family folklore. The good news is, I’m not as nice a guy as your father, and I’m certainly not nearly as trusting as he is. Can I promise that the same thing won’t happen to me? No. But between raising a pair of teenagers and running a hospital, I doubt if I’ll have any time to think about a girlfriend, much less do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like the jealous wife who doesn’t want her husband to have a life after she’s gone. You’re a hot ticket, Alex Dillon Dunn. You’ll have to beat women off with a stick. But I can’t sleep nights worrying about Kevin and Katie, and I guess I needed to hear you say what you just said.”

“Did you have any doubt?”

“All women have doubts. You were on the rebound when I met you. I figure ifIcould seduce you...” I said, licking my lips seductively.

“True, but the rules of the game have changed. I’ve got two kids. No woman is going to come between me and them.”

“Thanks. I’ll sleep easier.”

“You said you had a couple of things on your mind. What else?”

“I came to a decision today at my session with Esther. I can’t keep this hidden forever. I’m going to go public with my prognosis on September eleventh.”

“September eleventh,” he repeated slowly. “You picked quite an auspicious day.”

“I know. That’s part of my logic. I figure that 9/11 is already a painful day for a lot of people, so why do it on the tenth or the twelfth and give them another bummer anniversary to remember? Plus, it’s a Monday, which gives me one last glorious weekend with the kids before I get to break the news to them.”

“The way your brain works never ceases to amaze me,” he said.

“But you’ll support my decision?”

“A thousand percent. Until the day you finally tell people, this family will just go on living our lives like normal.”

And for the next seven days we did. In addition to his normal responsibilities, Alex was happily immersed in overseeing the construction of the new trauma center. I split my time between running the city and getting my kids ready to go back to school. On the weekend I did my best to plan something that my teenage son and daughter would tolerate doing with their parents, and for the most part, life was peaceful, relaxing, joyful, and above all, normal.

Until it wasn’t.

It was August 22 when the world suddenly, brutally turned upside down, and life as I knew it ceased to exist.

FIFTY-EIGHT

three weeks before the funeral

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