“You still need to think of yourself,” Judith said gently. “Although I suppose Margie and perhaps her children will need your support for a while.”
Jim hung his head. “I can’t replace Bob,” he said on
a note of defeat.
“But you can lend them moral support,” Judith said,
her voice still gentle.
Clumsily, Jim Randall lowered himself into Judith’s
visitor’s chair. He still held the bouquet, though his
slack grip allowed the flowers to brush the floor. “I
don’t know about Nancy and Bob Jr. Young people,
you know how they are. All caught up in their own little worlds. Margie, maybe, will need my help. She’s
kind of . . . high-strung. Well, not exactly. She’s more
low-strung—if you know what I mean.”
“Depression?” Renie asked.
Jim nodded. “She’s tried every kind of medication,
several different therapists. The last one just about
drove her over the edge.”
SUTURE SELF
109
“Hold it!” Renie yipped.
Judith threw her cousin a fierce warning glance.
“Maybe Margie didn’t give him enough time.”
“No,” Jim began, “that wasn’t it. He was very hard
on her, saying that maybe she didn’t want to get well.
I don’t blame her for—”
“Maybe she doesn’t,” Renie interrupted, ignoring
Judith’s glare. “Maybe she likes the attention. Maybe
sitting around on the sidelines for almost twenty years
while Bob grabbed the headlines ticked her off. Maybe
she’s a spoiled brat.”
“Wow.” Jim spoke softly as he peered at Renie.
“That’s harsh.”
“Maybe Bob killed himself because Margie was a
big fat pain in the butt,” Renie went on, despite the
sliver of cantaloupe that dangled from her lower lip.
“That’s clinical talk, of course.”
Jim looked dumbfounded. “It is? But it’s not fair.
Margie is a wonderful person.”
“Then you’d better take her those flowers before you
step on them,” Renie said. Her tongue darted out like a
lizard’s as she retrieved the bit of cantaloupe.
“Oh!” Jim snatched up the flowers, which he’d managed to let fall to the floor. “Gosh, that was careless.
You’re right, I’d better try to find her.”
“I understand your niece and nephew are dealing with
some serious problems of their own,” Judith said, still at
her kindliest. “That must be very hard on Margie.”
Briefly, Jim’s pliant features turned hard. “She mustn’t
feel guilty about Nancy and Bob Jr. If there’s blame for
what’s happened to them, you can look elsewhere.”
“Oh?” Judith’s gaze was fixed on Jim’s face.
