Poisoned Petals

“Satisfied?” Holles asked her.

“I guess so.” She sighed as she replaced all the items in the bag.

“People die, Dr. Lee,” he told her. “It’s sad only if you don’t realize we’re all going back to God. It’s a happy reunion. There’s nothing to cry about.”

She got up and stared at him. “I’m sorry for causing such a fuss. I guess I just can’t believe he and Darmus are both gone.”

He stood beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I know. He was the only one left of his family. Both brothers were an inspiration to the world. I was proud to know them. Now we have to let Luther go and move on. Keep his name and his good works going.”

She hugged him, crying into his rumpled dark suit coat even while another, analytical part of her brain said he sounded like he was running for public office. “I know you’re right. I just need some time. Darmus’s memorial service isn’t even planned. Now this. We’ll have to plan Luther’s, too.”

“I know Luther wanted you to give Darmus’s eulogy. I don’t want you to have to give one for Luther, too. We can split it. I’ll do Luther’s. Would that help?”

“Yes, it would.” She wiped her eyes with her hand and managed to smile. “Thank you, Holles.”

“I’ll take care of everything and let you know when it’s set.”

“I’m sure it will be awhile. The police will probably want to do an autopsy on his body to find out what happened.”

“Maybe. It won’t be that hard to tell if it was a stroke or a heart attack. It should still be over quickly.”

Peggy agreed. “He managed to pull himself together so well these last few days. He told me last week he thought he was going to die. He seemed so much better after he got here. I thought he was going to make it after all.”

“He had some serious health problems. He told me the chemo left him with a damaged heart. He did the best he could with the time he had.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He wasn’t going to slow down or give up a single inch, I think. Admitting he was sick would’ve been terrible for him. I learned in the few days we had that Luther was a proud man. He wanted to carry on his brother’s legacy.”

“Pride has nothing to do with being ill. He should have told me.”

“I agree. I’m sorry.”

They parted at the parking lot. Peggy took the bag with Luther’s few possessions. She’d have to let the church know he was gone.

She watched Holles run through the rain to his car and leave the hospital parking lot. She knew she should leave, too, but she couldn’t even make herself run to the Vue. She took her time, walked, and was soaked when she got there.

Peggy sat in Steve’s car for a long time looking at the white bag that contained Luther’s clothes. Ambulances rushed in and out from beneath the hospital’s wide canopy. The rain fell harder, and walkers scurried to find shelter. She didn’t realize how long she’d sat there until she noticed that it was dark.

So this is what it is to grow old, she reflected on a melancholy bent. Your friends die. Your husband dies. The world changes and goes on without you.

She was trying to keep John’s memory alive. There was the little plaque by the Potting Shed door, and the part of the Community Garden dedicated to him. All those things she did to keep him part of her life. She and Luther intended to do the same for Darmus. Now those plans were gone, too. Nothing stayed the same.

Her cell phone rang in her pocketbook. It was Steve. He probably wanted to know where she was; she had left him with her parents for eight hours. People died, but life went on. The world wouldn’t be the same without Darmus and Luther. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“I was worried about you.” Steve’s voice was husky and quiet on the phone. “I heard about Luther’s death on the news. I’m sorry, Peggy.”

“Me, too.” She fought to hold back new tears. “Is everything okay there?”

“Yeah. We ordered pizza for dinner. Everyone is watching the History Channel right now.”

“Thank you so much for staying with them.”

“Are you coming home? Do you want me to come and get you?”

She laughed. “I have your car and the keys for my truck. That might be difficult.”

“I can ride your bike if I have to. It’s not that far. Sam heard about Luther, too. He’s here with me and Paul.”

New friends, her mind whispered through her grief. That’s what happens. Life goes on and brings new friends and new loves. The seasons of life change, but flowers still bloom in the spring. The sun rises every day. Seeds are planted, and new flowers grow.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

“All right. I’ll give you ten with traffic.”

“Thanks, Steve.” She put away her phone and started the car. Life was too short at any age for the people you loved to die. Luther would be missed, but he wouldn’t be forgotten.