“I wasn’t ready to leave him,” she said softly, her voice clear, her eyes dry.
“She’s in shock,” Mrs. Sullivan said to her husband. “We should call the—”
“I’m not in shock,” Marcie said. Then she laughed lightly. “Good Lord, I’ve been expecting this for three years. But now it’s here, I know I won’t touch him again and I’m having a little trouble giving him up…”
The book was pulled out of her hands, she was drawn off the bed, to her feet, away from him. His parents kissed him goodbye and the sheet was pulled over him. Marcie went to him and pulled the sheet back. There was no reason to hide him—he looked as if he was asleep. She smoothed back his soft, dark hair.
“Marcie, the mortuary was called. They’ll be here soon.”
“I’m in no hurry,” she said. It wasn’t as though there were decisions to make—all the arrangements had been made a couple of years before. They’d take him away, he’d be cremated and there would be a memorial for him. But until they took him, wasn’t he still hers?
“He belongs to a higher authority now.” It was her sister’s voice. “You can let go of him without the slightest worry. He’s in good hands.”
“Did I say that out loud?” Marcie asked. “Did I?”
“Say what, sweetheart?”
“That until the funeral people came for him, he was still mine?”
“No, baby. You didn’t say anything. I could tell, that’s all.”
“I just want to be close to him until they come…”
“We can stay here, just like this, as long as you like. To hell with funeral people. They can wait.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, sitting again on the bed. She touched him, kissed his cheek and brow, whispered to him. Her in-laws thought she was losing it, but Erin held them off. Marcie heard Erin in the hall outside the room. “Cut her some slack. It’s a lot to give up. She’ll be fine.”
And when they came to take Bobby away, Marcie gave him one last kiss and let him go. Then she embraced her in-laws, told them she was sorry for their loss, and went home.
She felt tears on her cheeks, but she didn’t feel pain. Just that loneliness that sometimes plagued her. That sense of no longer being attached to Bobby, a feeling of having no purpose.
It was another hour before Ian came home. And when he walked in, she knew what had taken him so long. His hair and beard were dramatically sheared, clipped short and neatly trimmed. He had grocery sacks in his arms. He tried not to, but it was obvious, he was smiling. “Ian!”
“It’s me. You expecting someone else?”
She looked up at him and forgot everything. “What have you done?”
He walked straight to the table and put down his sacks. “I have more stuff to get, so sit tight.” And he left the cabin again. When he returned with a couple of boxes stacked high on top of each other, she was sitting in the same place. He put those on the table, as well. Then he finally turned toward her, letting her look him over. She stood and took slow steps toward him and her hand rose to touch his cheek. Where there had been a good five or six inches of bushy beard was now less than a half inch of brownish-red beard, combed into place, soft as down. Even his neck was shaved.
“Where is my wilderness lunatic?”
He frowned at her and touched her cheek gently. “Have you been crying?”
She glanced away. “I’m sorry. I had one of those days.”
He put his thumb and forefinger on her chin and pulled her eyes back to his. “What’s up?” he asked softly. “Need to talk about it?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I know you don’t want to—”
“It’s okay. What made you cry? Homesick? Lonesome?”
She took a deep breath. “It was a year ago today. Snuck up on me, I guess.”
“Ah,” he said. He put his big arms around her. “That would make some tears, I guess. I’m sorry, Marcie. I’m sure it still hurts sometimes.”
“That’s just it—it doesn’t exactly hurt. It’s just that I feel so useless.” She leaned against him. “Sometimes I feel all alone. I have lots of people in my life and can still feel so alone without Bobby.” She laughed softly. “And God knows, he wasn’t much company.”
He tightened his embrace. “I think I understand.”
Yeah, she thought, he might. Here was a guy who was around people regularly, yet completely unconnected to them. She pulled away and asked, “Why did you do this?”