Kerry got up and looked at the large landscape painting nearest her. “Is that why you sign your paintings with the tree icon? Schoenbaum, beautiful tree?”
“You figured that out, did you?”
“With help from Google,” she admitted. “Seriously, Heinz, if being here really is unbearable for you, maybe we can figure out someplace else for you to convalesce. I mean, you own this whole building, so forgive me but I can’t think that money is an issue. Maybe there’s another apartment available?”
He continued to stroke the top of Queenie’s head. The setter’s muzzle rested on his leg and her eyes were closed. She was asleep, her body shuddering with every snore.
“I think…” he said slowly. “I think it will be all right. Somehow, the painful memories, most of them, have been banished. Now I have only one serious problem.”
“What’s that?” She jumped up and went to his side. “Is the fever back?”
“No. I’m feeling slightly better. But how do I manage to get out of this chair and back to bed without disturbing our girl here?” He gazed down at the slumbering dog.
“Queenie!” Kerry said. The dog raised her head. “Come!” She took a cushion from the sofa and placed it on the floor. “Here.”
The dog jumped down and splayed out on the cushion and almost instantaneously went back to sleep.
“Marvelous,” Heinz said, rising slowly from his seat. “If only I could fall asleep that quickly. We had a dog, George and I. A beautiful wirehaired dachshund named Pablito. He was such a good boy.”
The old man’s eyes glistened. “I haven’t thought of Pablito in years and years. I painted him several times. One of those canvases must still be around here.”
He clutched the back of the sofa with both hands. “Kerry?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for caring for me. And about me.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
“I’m going to sleep now. I’m sure while you were pillaging my home, you found the linen closet? With sheets and blankets and pillows?”
“I did.”
“But I’ll bet you didn’t find the Murphy bed in the studio, did you?”
“No. I was planning on sleeping on the sofa out here.”
“The Murphy bed should be quite comfortable. Good night.”
chapter 51
The shock of chilly air that met Kerry as she left Heinz’s building the next morning felt like a slap in the face. It was bitterly cold and snowflakes swirled around in the gray skies. The sidewalks were still icy, and crowded with people out doing last-minute shopping and errands, so she led Queenie carefully but quickly through the park for her morning bathroom break.
All signs of the Tolliver Family Christmas tree stand were gone. She felt a sharp pang of sadness, thinking of Spammy’s fate, but a moment later, Queenie was barking and tugging at the leash, because she’d spotted Murphy standing in the doorway at Anna’s.
“How’d she do last night?” Murphy asked, scratching the dog’s head.
“She was perfect. Slept on a pillow in the living room. I slept on a pull-out bed in the studio. Best night of sleep I’ve had since I got here.”
“How’s the old man feeling?”
“A little better. He’s still asleep.”
A cab pulled up to the curb and deposited Patrick and Austin, both of them loaded down with shopping bags.
“Kerry, Kerry,” Austin greeted her. “Just one more sleep and Christmas will be here.” He was hopping up and down with excitement. Suddenly, he stood very still.
“Where’s Spammy?”
Kerry and Patrick exchanged a worried glance.
Murphy searched for a palatable answer. “Somebody took a razor and slashed all Spammy’s tires,” he said.
“Those bad guys?” Austin exclaimed. “I knew it!”
“I can’t prove it was them, but the tires were ruined. They’re expensive to replace, and it would have cost more money to fix the camper than she was worth. So we, uh, had Spammy taken to a place where old cars and campers go. Kinda like a nursing home.”
“Oh. But where will you guys live now?” Austin asked.
“As soon as this weather clears up, I’ll drive back home to the mountains in North Carolina, where I have a real house, with heat and running water,” Murphy told him. “But until then, Miss Claudia is letting me stay at her apartment.”
“And I’m staying at Heinz’s apartment, so I can help take care of him,” Kerry volunteered. “Queenie’s staying there too.”
“That’s good, I guess. Hey, Kerry. Me and Dad got you a Christmas present. You wanna know what it—”
“Whoa!” Patrick laughed as he clamped his hand across his son’s face. “Christmas gifts are supposed to be a surprise, remember?”
Austin pushed his father’s hand away. “Oh yeah,” he giggled. “But wait until you see how cool this present is.”
Kerry felt her face grow hot despite the icy temperature. “I don’t … have any presents for anyone. I didn’t know I’d still be here today.”
“Don’t give it another thought,” Patrick said quickly. “We got you something small and inexpensive. We don’t expect anything in return.”
“But Dad,” Austin protested, shaking the shopping bag he held.
“We’d better get home,” Patrick said, cutting him short. “Kerry, do you think Heinz would mind some company this evening? We won’t stay long, I promise.”
“I think he’d like that,” Kerry said.
“Dr. Oliver told me to tell you she’s going to drop by and check on him later this morning.”
The door of the bakery opened again, and Lidia stepped out holding a white paper sack. “Your brother says Heinz is sick. Just a few cannoli and biscotti and amaretti for him. And the little wedding cookies he likes.”
“Oh, Lidia…”
Before she could say anything else, the clerk from the bodega came bustling up with a plastic grocery bag. “This is for the old man,” she said, pressing the bag into Kerry’s hands. “Ginger tea. My auntie sends it from home. The very best for a head cold. And some lemon throat lozenges. You tell him to get better quick, you hear?”
“I will,” Kerry said. “Thanks so much.”
* * *
Abby Oliver tucked her stethoscope into the jacket pocket of her running suit and removed the pulse oximeter from the patient’s fingertip. “Your chest sounds clearer this morning, Mr. Schoenbaum, and your oxygen saturation looks good.”
“It’s Heinz. No one calls me Mr. Schoenbaum.”
“Okay, Heinz. Well, no fever today, and your color is better. I’d say the meds are working. How did you sleep last night?”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “But too many people fussing over me. Eat this. Take that. Drink this.”
“Sounds as though you have friends who care about you. You can never have enough of those,” Dr. Oliver said. “Just stay warm and keep doing what you’re doing. Also, if you’re not too weak, it’s good to get up and walk around every so often.”
* * *
Heinz found Kerry in the studio with a lukewarm cup of tea in one hand and a sketch pad in the other. He lowered himself carefully onto a wooden chair and peered over her shoulder.
“What’s this?”