Three years later as I sat in my office, I was glad the pups were grown and housebroken, glad the children were happy and healthy, glad for my wife, and not so glad I’d eaten jalapeños on my cheeseburger. I found I was spinning the lighter again. I never seemed to realize when I pulled it from my pocket and started rolling it over. It was scratched and the orange enamel of the flames had started to wear in places. Light from the window caught the worn metal case and flashed in my eye. I realized what I was doing, stopped and shook my head, laughing at myself.
“This is how Alzheimer’s starts,” I said.
I stood up and glanced out my office door at the desks of some of the junior members of my team and wondered if they were working on anything productive or if they were all spinning Zippos of their own. Then I shoved the thing back into my pocket and looked out the window at the outside world. The sky was blue, and there was a breeze gently moving the trees across the street. Nataliya Koslov stared back at me from the other side of the glass. She had that withdrawn expression and same hollow eyes, but her blue glow was gone.
I stumbled back from my desk, almost tipping the chair over and spraying pens and paperclips onto the floor. I looked at the mess, then back at the window to find she was no longer there. A few deep breaths later, and I leaned down to pick up my spilled office supplies when the phone rang. I lurched, knocking my head on the underside of my desk.
“Shit!” I shouted.
I’m sure it was loud enough for the rest of the office to hear, but no one came to my rescue. I answered the phone as I rubbed the knot on my skull.
“Todd McNeill,” I said.
“Hello, Mr. McNeill. This is Mrs. McNeill.”
I groaned audibly as my fingers found the epicenter of my new sore spot. It sent twinges of pain throughout my body. I groaned again. Vicky gasped and feeling stupid, I tried to recover.
“Not you. I bumped my head.”
“Aw, poor baby,” she mocked. “Are you bleeding?”
She’s lucky I wasn’t in cardiac arrest after seeing the ghost. I wasn’t going to tell her that. If there was one nice thing about knowing how I was going to die...I knew it wasn’t a heart attack. For a second, I wondered if fate was so concrete that I would be virtually invincible to other means of death. If I jumped from a building, I might survive. Or would I die and just piss off the grim reaper? Maybe that’s what Nataliya did, and maybe that’s why she remains without a door of her own. Maybe she was supposed to survive her father and snub her nose at him, but instead, she gave up and snubbed her nose at life. Or maybe it was her father that pissed off ol’ Death. Maybe the abusive bastard had killed her, denying her predetermined fate and robbing her of the afterlife she deserved…her dad was still screwing her, even beyond the veil. It gave me a chill.
“Todd?” she said.
I guess I hadn’t realized how long I was sitting in my daze.
“Yeah. I’m here. What can I do for you?”
“Two things,” she said. “Your father, first of all.”
“How is he today?”
“Not good,” she said. “The nurse said it might be time for hospice and that he’s finally beyond the scope of what care can be provided…he just needs to be comfortable.”
John had moved from his assisted-living apartment into a facility with in-house staff that was only a fifteen minute drive from our home. His health had deteriorated ever since Danny’s funeral, taking him from bad to worse and beyond. John didn’t recognize any of us and had all but stopped talking. The pain medication kept him in a state that reminded me of the drunk I’d grown up with, and he could be just as nasty. Even though he was close by, our weekly visits had dwindled to monthly, and then every six weeks. Just when things started looking up, life tossed a curveball. I’d told Vicky that a hundred times. Just when things started looking up.
“I don’t want him to be in any pain. I’ll call them in a minute and see what arrangements need to be made,” I said.
“He’s been asking for you, Todd.”
“He’s what?”
John hadn’t spoken anything intelligible in months. First they were words that didn’t make sense, then they weren’t even words.
“He’s asking for you,” she said. “I think we should pay him a visit. Take the kids with us this time. Robin will be fine and Sean’s big enough that he might even remember his grandfather. We can take turns watching them in the lobby if your dad gets out of his head.”
I rubbed the sore place on my own head which had swollen into a lump.
“Maybe that’s why she showed up at the window,” I mumbled.
“What? Who’s at the window?” Vicky asked.
“Huh? Nothing. I mean no one. I’m babbling,” I said. “I’ll go ahead and come home. We can call the doctor and then go see him in the morning. He is going to live until morning, right?”
There was a long pause before she answered.
“I don’t know, Todd.”
I looked at my calendar for any meetings that were coming up in the next few days.
“Get the kids ready. We’ll just go now and see how he does. I'll be right there.”
“Okay,” she said.
We said our I love yous and hung up. I cancelled my meetings and made arrangements with the rest of my team for the next couple days, told them the short version of my story and how I just wanted to be with my family and with John and they extended condolences and offered prayers. I took one last look at the window in my office, checking to see if the little Russian girl was still there and then rubbed the bump on my skull before walking out to my car.
As I drove home, I thought a lot about the relationship I had with John and how many different forms it had taken. I thought about my mother and how he’d ruined her. The thought crossed my mind that he was just doing the best he could. I wondered—and still wonder—if death was prearranged, then maybe so was life, and maybe he was working with what he had. Maybe we all are. I hated that idea and still do, but it might be a fact. If it is, and all of our cards are dealt from a pre-shuffled deck, and we have to live with those things, I was never so glad about the hand I was given until I pulled into the driveway of our humble little house and saw that woman frolicking in the yard with those kids...and those two stupid mutts Danny and Matt, bounding around them in a circle.