“Leave. Now.”
I kissed him on the forehead and then watched him fall asleep, my mind whirling. When I heard his heavy breathing, I walked over to the table by the window and called Mary on the hotel phone.
“I was going to call you,” she said.
“So, how was it, really?”
“Fine. Not bad. The girls made all the difference. Two of the aides recognized Mindy, took her picture, so that kind of lightened things up. And thank God for Karen. She handled the papers, asked the right questions, helped the doctor with the checkup. Everything went okay.”
“How was he? Do you think he liked it?”
“Well, he was in a good mood. So, that’s a good sign. He shot some baskets in the gym and ate a big lunch. So, a solid start. We met his aide, and she seemed nice.”
“Tomorrow’s going to be hell,” I said.
“You don’t have to come.”
“Of course I’m coming.”
“Then we’ll get through it.”
“Listen”—I glanced back at Ethan, kept my voice low—“I’ve been thinking about this whole thing again.”
“Don’t.”
“No, listen. I’ve been thinking that maybe I’m going to stay here in Camden for a while.”
“What? Why? You know, you can’t see him. No contact for an entire month.”
“Well, I think I’m going to stay longer.” I paused before revealing my new plan. “I think I’m going to move here, live here. You know, permanently. I mean, I am. I’m going to move here.”
She didn’t say anything, so I went on. “I’ll rent a house or something, a room. Camden is nice.”
Mary remained quiet.
“Hello? You there?”
“What about your job? Your place?”
“I’m going to quit. Believe me, they won’t care. They’ll be relieved. I’ll get most of my pension anyway. And I’ll sell the condo, so I’ll have some cash.”
“So you’re going to just pick up and move across the country.”
“Yes. Yes. I’m not leaving him. He can stay in the home, and I’ll see him when I want. Every day probably. Maybe I can get a job up there. I don’t know. Hell, I’ll probably end up being a bartender somewhere. But I’m staying and that’s it. I’m not leaving him. I’m staying as long as he does.”
I had come up with all of this just hours before, but the more I said, the more it made sense and the better I felt.
“Hello? Mary?”
“Want some company?”
I didn’t think I heard her right. “What?”
“I said, you want some company?”
I was confused. “What do you mean? Like Sal?”
“Me, John. Me. I was thinking of doing the same thing.”
I swallowed. “Are you serious?”
“The house is empty. I’d probably be a little closer to the girls. What’s back there for me?”
“You mean, you would stay. With me?”
“Yes.”
“Just you and me?”
“Yes.”
It was my turn to be quiet. After a moment I said, “That would, well, that would be wonderful.”
“I don’t want to rent, though,” she said. “I’m sure we can find something to buy.”
I was still confused. “So, we would stay in the same place, live together?”
“You are so obtuse.”
“Sorry, but I’m processing a lot.”
“It will be our big adventure. You owe me one.”
“What happens if he doesn’t like the home, it doesn’t work out?”
“He’s going to like the home.”
I held on to the phone, speechless, afraid I was going to say or do something that would ruin all of this. Finally I just said, “That would be great.”
“We’re probably getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get through tomorrow. Let’s not tell the girls or anyone about us yet. Let’s focus on Ethan. Get through tomorrow.”
“Sure. Fine. My lips are sealed.”
“How is he?” she asked.
“Taking a nap. He went right down.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I think I will too. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Okay. On the boat. Hey, one more thing. I love you.”
“I know that, John.”
*
Captain Jack was waiting for us at the dock. He was a sprightly man of about seventy with a shock of white hair and a crinkly, sunburned face. His grip was firm, though, when he took my arm and helped me onto his boat.
“Watch your step, young man,” he said.
I waited for Ethan to board, then took him by the hand and led him to the front, trying to contain my excitement. I had never been on a boat like this before, a large schooner, so I compartmentalized, pushing all my worries and concerns about the next day aside. I tightened Ethan’s orange life preserver and scanned the horizon. It was a magnificent evening: blue sky, bluer water, all encased in a warm breeze.
“Nice out,” I said.
It took a while for Sal to load all the food on board—he had bought enough for an Atlantic crossing—and when he finally finished, we pushed off from the dock.
Ethan clutched me as the boat first moved, the sense of motion disconcerting, but exciting. “Wow.”