Lesson 6

Jeannette’s husband, George, told her the news last night. Since then, her mind has been spinning like a top. It is four o’clock in the morning, and she cannot sleep, again. Through her kitchen window, she sees the gnarled limbs of the old elm writing menacing patterns in the moonlit sky. Winter is quickly approaching, and she will be housebound…housebound with him. Unconsciously, she takes another sip of tea.

Jeannette and George are selling their home of twenty-three years to move in with George’s dad. Old Mr. Isaac is in the beginning stage of Alzheimer’s and will soon need constant care and supervision. Jeannette thought one of George’s older brothers would step up and want to help, but other offers never materialized. Tonight George told her they had a contract on their house. They have to be out in thirty days. Thirty days! That seems like tomorrow. It is too soon.

“Jeannie, are you okay? What are you doing out here in the dark?” George flipped on the light and padded across the wood floor toward Jeannette.

“I’m fine. I just have so many things racing through my head. I can’t seem to go to sleep.”

“How about those pills the Dr. Stacey gave you? It wouldn’t hurt to try one. After all, Jeannie, a doctor prescribed them for you. That’s what they’re for, Honey.

“I hate to take pills, but maybe I will... just one tonight. The news about the contract seems so sudden.”

“Jeannie, we’ve been trying to sell the house for three months now. You had to know this would happen soon." George put an arm around Jeannette and gave her a squeeze. "I thought you went over all this. Just chill out, Sweetie. Everything will be fine." When Jeannette remained silent, George gave her another hug and continued. "You know Dad loves you like a daughter. I’m going back to bed. You take that pill and come, too.”

“All right. I’ll be there as soon as I finish my tea. I'm okay, dear. I love you.”

The words resonated through the cells of her memory. Dad loves you like a daughter. Jeannette thought of her dad and his violent temper. Suppose George’s dad turned out to be like him. He always said he loved her. You could never really know a person until you lived with them.

Jeannette felt nauseous and downed the last dregs of her tea, feeling the bile rise in her throat. She leaned over the sink and gagged. She grabbed the dishtowel from its holder and wiped her mouth, then covered her face with it and leaned her elbows on the counter.

She lay down the towel, stood up straight, and took some deep breaths, but her mind continued to spin. She visualized old Mr. Isaac, bed-ridden, wanting this, wanting that, begging her not to leave him, screaming at her because she did not do something right, or because she was too slow getting something for him. She saw herself old, wrinkled, pale from never getting to go outside, always at the old man’s beck and call. How could she do it? How could she?

Jeannette felt her fingers on the cool wood of the cabinet door. She saw the bottle of pills and wondered how many would be enough, enough not to bring her nightmare vision to fruition.

She decided. It had to be all of them.