always been afraid that the ideas would fly out of her head if she thought of anything else. She was beginning to realize, at thirty-nine, that maybe that wasn’t true. Hunt liked to say she was a genius, which she knew she wasn’t, but she did focus on her work, much of the time, when she wasn’t thinking of Max. Some great ideas came to her when she least expected. And she never wanted to be caught short with a comb instead of a pencil in her hand.
She walked her father slowly out into the garden and sat him on a deck chair. She got a hat to shield him from the sun, and lay on the deck chair next to his, and she reached out and took his hand. They lay there in the sun, peacefully holding hands for a long time. She had her eyes closed, and she was wearing shorts and one of Max’s old T-shirts, and she felt her father gently squeeze her hand.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said softly with her eyes closed, feeling like a child again. She could remember all the times he had been there for her when she was young, all that he had done for her after her mother died, the endless support he had offered for her career, the wise advice, and as she thought of it, two tears slid down her face, and she wiped them away quickly so he wouldn’t see them if he was watching. She didn’t want to be maudlin just because he was tired and old, or having a bad day.
“I love you too, Tallie,” he said gently, and then he drifted off to sleep and she could hear him snoring gently. She smiled to herself and fell asleep, lying on the deck chair near him. It was an easy, peaceful morning, and she felt as close to him as she always did, and so grateful to have him in her life. She woke up after a while, and gently took her hand away. He had stopped snoring, and looked as though he were sleeping peacefully in the deck chair, and then with a start, she realized he wasn’t breathing at all. She put her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse, and there was none, and suddenly she felt frantic, with no idea how long it had been since he had stopped breathing, a minute or an hour. She shouted to Amelia in the living room to call 911, and then with all her strength, she scooped her father up in her arms and laid him on the grass, and began giving him mouth-to-mouth, but he was lifeless. She gently tried to compress his chest and continue breathing for him, and after an eternity she could hear sirens in the distance, and suddenly there were men in paramedics’ uniforms beside her and they took over, as Tallie knelt on the grass watching them and crying.
They stopped after a few minutes, and the chief paramedic helped her to her feet and took her inside while the others covered her father. “I’m sorry. He looks as though he died peacefully,” he said gently. Tallie was overwhelmed with wracking sobs as she listened. She couldn’t imagine a life without her father in it. And she realized that everything he had said that morning had been a goodbye to her, even his last “I love you,” as he drifted off to sleep forever, still holding her hand, and she had been able to say the same to him for one last time.
“He was asleep,” she said, choking on a sob. “Thank you… I’m sorry…” The paramedic patted her arm and went back to the garden. They had put her father on a gurney, covered him completely, and were rolling him to a police ambulance outside. There was a fire truck and a rescue truck in front of the house with them. And her father’s housekeeper put her arms around her and cried with her.
The head of the paramedics came back inside to ask her some questions. Her father’s name, his age, what illnesses he’d been suffering from, but essentially it was just old age and what he himself referred to as “the machinery wearing down.” He had never had any serious illnesses, and he had never loved any woman other than her mother, or anyone in the world as much as his daughter, and she knew it.
“Where would you like us to take him?” She looked at him blankly, with no idea what to say. “We can take him to the morgue until you decide,” he said gently and she looked horrified.
“No! No!… please… just give me a minute…” She got her phone out of her bag and called information for the phone number of a funeral home where she’d been to several funerals. Her father had never been religious, but she wanted a church ceremony and a Christian burial, since he had been born Protestant, but first they needed a funeral home.
They were instantly attentive when they answered, sounded unnervingly calm, assured her they would take care of everything, and told her what to tell the paramedics. And she could come in and discuss arrangements with them afterward. They assured her they would do everything to help her. They had recognized her name immediately, and were used to celebrities and their families and assured her of their utmost discretion. Talking to them was the kind of thing that Brigitte would have done for her before, and now she had no one to help her.
When she finished speaking to the funeral home, Tallie went outside to speak to the paramedics and told them where to take her father. She gave them the name of the home and the address, and they assured her that they were familiar with it, and told her again how sorry they were. She could see his still form covered by a blanket on the gurney in the ambulance, and she stood for a long silent moment, crying. Just moments before he’d been next to her, telling her he loved her, and now he was gone. She had known this would happen one day, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon and with no warning. She wasn’t ready for it.
She watched the ambulance and the emergency vehicles pull away and walked back into his house. Amelia was crying too, and they held each other for a long moment.
“I thought he was just tired,” Tallie said, blaming herself. “I should have called the doctor this morning.”
“It was his time,” the kind Salvadoran woman said. She had loved Tallie’s father too. “He’s been so tired lately. I think he was ready.” Tallie didn’t want to believe that, but she knew it was true. And now she had no father. She had lost so many people she loved lately, and he most important of all. Now Tallie had no one, not even her father, only Max.
“But I wasn’t ready for this,” Tallie said sadly as she went back to the garden to find her sandals, and she saw his hat lying on the grass and burst into tears again. She wanted to go home, it was too sad being here, and then she had to go to the funeral home to make arrangements. And she knew she had to call Max and tell her, and she was dreading it. She would be heartbroken too.
Tallie told Amelia she could go home, it had been upsetting for her too. She could come back on Monday and tidy up. Tallie would have to figure out what to do about his house, and go through his things. She felt as though she had nothing but painful jobs to do now, and she was glad she had finished the picture so she didn’t have to worry about that too.
She and the housekeeper hugged again, and Tallie left. She felt so distracted she could hardly drive. It seemed impossible to believe that on the way there that morning her father had been alive, and now he wasn’t. It had all ended so quickly, but painlessly for him at least. She was grateful it had been peaceful. But she felt devastated by the loss.
Tallie called Max from the car on the way home, but her phone was on voicemail, and then she remembered she had gone camping for the weekend and probably had no cell reception where she was. It made her feel even lonelier. Hunt was gone, Brigitte, her father-she had no one to call, no one to tell, no one to hold her or comfort her, and she had lost her father, who had been her best friend in the world and her staunch supporter. Tallie felt lost as she got out of the car, and her cell phone rang. There was no one she wanted to talk to. She looked and saw that it was Jim Kingston. She answered in a raw voice, and he could hear that she’d been crying. He didn’t want to bother her but was concerned to hear her so distressed. He had forgotten to tell her something minor the night before, so he called back.
“Are you okay?” She shook her head, unable to speak for a minute.
“No, I’m not… I’m sorry… my father just died a few minutes ago…” She couldn’t stop crying, and he was a voice to talk to.
“Oh I’m so sorry… was he sick?” She hadn’t mentioned it, and he knew how close to him she was, from what she had said, but maybe she had been discreet about an illness.
“No, he was very tired… he’s kind of been running down lately… he’s… he was eighty-six.” She couldn’t bear the thought of using the past tense for him. Everything in her life was past tense now. Hunt, their life together, Brigitte, and now her father.
“Do you want me to come over?” he offered, and sounded sincere. He didn’t know what else to say.
“I don’t know…” She sounded disoriented and scared.
“I’ll be there in a minute… I’m just a few blocks away.” He had gone to his office on a Saturday to fill out some forms he hadn’t gotten around to. There was always a mountain of paperwork on his desk, and Bobby was away for the weekend, which gave him a chance to catch up.
They hung up, she got to her house, and couldn’t remember how she got there. She walked in feeling dazed.
