He listened to Ida’s heart, peered into her eyes, then read through the notations on her chart. “Well, it looks like you’re ready to go home,” he said. “But before I sign a release, I want you to promise you’ll get rid of those old medications. With a child in the house—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it today,” Ida cut in. “I should have done it a long time ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of anything that belonged to Bill. Not his clothes, not his toothbrush, not even his old medicine bottles. Now with Darla Jean here to help me, it will be a whole lot easier.”
With thoughts of what lay ahead heavy on her mind, Suzanna welcomed the chance to stay busy. On the way home from the hospital, she suggested they have lunch and then clean out the medicine cabinet.
“Not just the medicine cabinet,” Ida said. “Everything. Including the closet and the drawers. We’ll pack up Bill’s things and take them over to Goodwill. There are people who could use those clothes, and it’s a crime for me to keep them packed away where they’re not doing anybody any good.”
“Are you sure about this?” Suzanna asked apprehensively.
Ida nodded. “Positive. I know it’s what Bill would have wanted.”
That afternoon they worked together, going through each drawer, sorting the clothes according to suitability, clearing out shoes that for years had gathered dust on the floor of the closet. On one side of the bed was a pile of things to be thrown away: an old toothbrush, the chipped ashtray, gardening pants with the knees worn through; on the other side, clothes earmarked for Goodwill. Shirts packaged as they’d been when they came from the laundry, trousers with the crease as crisp as ever, a brand new leather wallet, a navy blue blazer with a Rotary Club pin still affixed to the lapel.
Ida held the jacket in her hands for a few moments, then loosened the backing on the pin and removed it.
“Bill was real proud of his work with the Rotary Club,” she said. “I believe he’d want me to hold onto this.” She slid the pin into her pocket then moved on to a drawer filled with socks and undershirts.
When the bed was covered with things to be given away, Suzanna drove down to the Piggly Wiggly market and brought home a stack of cardboard cartons. One by one they packed and labeled each box: shirts, sweaters, jackets, each garment carefully inspected and neatly folded into place. When they finished, there were 14 cartons stacked along the bedroom wall.
Suzanna grabbed the top box and started toward the door. “I’ll get these loaded into the car so we can take them over to Goodwill.” She was halfway out the door when she caught the look of sadness that had settled on Ida’s face. She hesitated a moment then turned back and said, “That is, unless you’d rather we wait a while.”
Ida shook her head. “No, it’s better to take them now and get it over with.” As she scooped up an armful of the things destined for the trash bin, she mumbled, “Once a person is gone from your life, no amount of wishing will bring them back.”
Although the words were not meant for Suzanna, she’d heard them and felt the sorrow hidden inside of them. As she loaded the boxes in the car, she began to wonder about the wisdom of telling Ida the truth. What purpose would it serve? Would it do nothing more than pile sorrow upon sorrow? Hadn’t Ida already suffered enough?
By the time she’d dropped off the boxes at the Goodwill store, Suzanna had decided the truth of her identity should remain a secret. Simple as that, she’d convinced herself to stay with her story and continue being Darla Jean.
Suzanna had no qualms with her decision and might have stuck with it were it not for what happened later that night. It was after eight o’clock, and Annie was in bed. She and Ida had settled in front of the television to watch The Real McCoys. Then when the first commercial break came on, Ida looked at her with a melancholy smile.
“Cleaning out those drawers today made me realize something,” she said. “Something I probably should have realized long ago.”
Unsure of what to expect, Suzanna waited.
“There comes a point in life when you have to accept that your days on earth are numbered, and it’s time to start letting go of things. Today I saw the wisdom of that, and I’ve made a decision—”
“What do you mean your days are numbered? Dr. Bergmann said you were fine. The other night’s episode was nothing more than a reaction to that cough medicine. There’s no need—”
“There’s nothing wrong with me now, Darla Jean, but who knows what will happen a year from now, two years from now, or ten years from now. The thing is to be prepared, and that’s why I’ve decided to go ahead and give you this house.”
“You decided to do what?” Suzanna sputtered.
“To go ahead and give you this house. Of course, I’d continue to live with you and Annie, but I’d have peace of mind knowing the house will be yours when I’m gone and there will be no questions asked.”
Suzanna stood and snapped off the television. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t allow you to even consider such a thing. Why, such talk is downright foolish. It’s—”
“It’s realistic, that’s what it is. I’m not going to live forever, Darla Jean, and you’re the only family I’ve got. When I die, everything I own will go to you anyway. All I’m suggesting is that I go ahead and give you the house now. That way, I can rest easy knowing you’ll have a forever place to call your own.”
Suzanna felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room. Each breath she drew felt like a sledgehammer slammed up against
