Death Comes In Threes
I
hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair.
“He
shoulda known better,” I whispered to myself.
Connie
had called with news about Lee.
“They’ve
moved him to a hospice. They don’t
expect him to live out the month,” she wailed.
“Oh,
that’s too bad,” I said, trying to keep a smile from my voice. “I will pray for him.”
I
hadn’t seen the connection, four years ago, when Harold died.
Cirrhosis of the
liver.
That’s what they
put on his death certificate.
The man was a minister.
He never took a drink in his life.
Harold
was a persuasive man.
Sweet talker. It came with the business he was in.
He
whispered that I was beautiful.
“Your soul shines
from the inside out.”
We had to be very careful and not go out together in public.
He
liked to visit me Saturday nights.
“Being
with you gives me inspiration for my sermon tomorrow,” he always said.
One Sunday
morning, as I sat in the choir looking out at the congregation, I noticed a
lady smiling at everything Harold said.
After nine months of us being
together, he was sweet talking her.
I
didn’t think she was all that pretty, but perhaps she had a beautiful soul that
shone from the inside out?
He didn't come out to my house on Saturday nights anymore.
He said he was busy studying for his Doctorate. They married the next year.
Eighteen months later
when Tim died, something clicked in my mind.
I wondered if this
was a coincidence.
They said he had a
massive heart attack.
The man was a
health freak.
Four days a week
at the gym.
Running seven
miles a day on Saturday and Sunday.
Cholesterol at one-thirty-five
and weight at one- seventy.
I was told he had
just had a physical; complete with imaging of his heart, Doppler sonogram on
his carotid arteries and legs and an ultra sound of his aorta.
“Tim
was in perfect health,” his father said at the funeral home visitation.
He
shoulda known better.
Tim loved my
sensitive, non-judgmental side.
“You are the
sweetest woman I have ever known. You
light up the room when you enter it. You
are so open minded, kind and sweet to everyone you meet.”
Tim seemed
sincere.
I introduced him
to all my friends and they liked him. I
even bought a membership at the gym so we could work out together.
Six months later, I
found out he was having an affair with his personal trainer; Robert.
Coincidence?
Two men whom I had
a relationship with and loved.
Two men
who betrayed me and dumped me. Dead?
It would be a
natural thing if I were eighty, but at fifty-five?
I wondered.
I was the
common denominator.
It felt strange.
It felt good.
It
was exhilarating.
I had power.
Now it was Lee’s
turn.
Connie said he had
a brain tumor. The doctor’s had told him
they “got it all” and with chemotherapy, he was cured.
I knew better.
Seven months later
it was in his bone marrow. His liver and
kidneys were shutting down. They moved
him to hospice.
“Jane,” Connie had
sobbed on the phone. “They say hospice
won’t take a person unless they have less than three months to live. I talked to the nurse. She said Lee only has a few weeks at best.”
Justice.
I sat in my chair
and thought about Lee.
I met Lee Wrightman
three years ago, shortly after Tim dumped me. We met on the Internet
and wrote back and forth for a couple of weeks.
I.M’d each other every night. He
wanted my phone number right away, but I wouldn't give it to him.
“I want to get to
know you better,” I wrote.
“Why? You think I might be a midnight stalker?”
“Might be,” I laughed as I typed my answer..
We hit it off
right away.
He had a great
sense of humor, which I thoroughly appreciated.
He also had a way of complimenting me that made me feel like the luckiest
woman in the world.
`“You know you are
so gorgeous, Doll.”
He liked to call
me Doll.
“I feel so proud
every time we walk into the club, because you are on my arm".
I lapped it up. Like a puppy with a warm bowl of milk.
We dated for two
years.
Spent every
weekend together…at his insistence.
My friends told me
I was investing too much of myself in him.
They were just jealous because I no longer had time to join them and
their frivolous luncheons.
“Don’t invest more
of yourself than you can afford to lose,” one of my dear friends had said.
“I’m not about to
lose anything. Lee is committed to our
relationship.”
Well, I said that
to them…and I believed it.
Then, almost to
the day of our two year anniversary, Lee said, “Jane, I feel like my foot is
nailed to the floor.”
I sat there calmly
on his couch, but I could feel the red tide coming up from my stomach, into my
throat, about to explode in my brain.
“What do you mean?”
I asked sweetly.
“I feel like we
spend too much time together. I might
want to go out alone on the weekend, but you are here.”
“But you invite me
here for the weekend.”
He went on, “Even
when I go out during the week…you are with me.”
“I’m not here
during the week, Honey,” I laughed.
“Even when you
aren’t with me physically…you are still in my mind.” he said.
That didn’t make
any sense to me.
“If I happen to
talk to another woman, dance with a woman at the club…I feel guilty.”
“Well, you should, ass hole,” I thought to
myself.
I didn’t say a
word. Got up and went into his bedroom. I opened the closet and pulled out the
clothes I kept there for the weekends.
Took off the
sapphire ring he had given me for Christmas and put it in his under wear drawer
where I knew he’d find it.
I went into the
bathroom, got my shampoo and body wash out of his shower. Took it all, stuffed it into my over night
bag and walked out.
Walked right past
him sitting in his chair watching television and just kept on walking.
“Doll, where are
you going?” he called.
“Home,” I quietly
said.
That was the way
it ended.
I liked feeling that
I had taken the upper hand.
Left him before he
could ask me to leave.
Broke up with him
before he had the chance.
Power.
I laughed all the
way on my drive home.
Tears rolled down
my face and blurred my vision, I laughed so hard.
When I got home
there was a message from Lee on the machine.
“I didn’t want to
break up forever…I just want to take a couple of weeks break so I don’t feel so
smothered. Please call me back.”
Nah…you aren’t
having it your way idiot.
The end.
Then I came down
off my high.
For the next ten
days I hardly slept or ate.
I didn’t leave my
house.
I didn’t
shower.
One night at three
o’clock in the morning, I thought I was having a nervous breakdown.
I cried until my sinuses
were so congested I couldn’t breathe.
My throat was so
swollen I couldn’t swallow.
He kept calling me, but I wouldn't answer the phone.
“He’s just not
worth it,” I yelled to the empty room.
Two months later I
found out through the club gossip that Lee and Connie were dating.
I was livid with
rage.
It didn’t
show.
I have learned
over the years how to put on “the face”.
“Jane is the
sweetest woman I have ever known.” I
knew that’s how they all felt about me. I
had heard them say it.
When
I saw Connie…“Connie, that’s wonderful,” I smiled as I gave her a hug.
“You don’t mind?”
“Mind?
No, Honey. Lee and I just didn’t have
enough in common to build a relationship.
You are perfect for him.”
Now
she was paying the price.
That bastard had
hurt me and soon…he would pay the price for his actions.
I didn’t need a
sleeping pill the night Connie called to say Lee was dying.
I slept like a
baby.
I got up the next
day and noticed what a beautiful day it was.
Lee was breathing
his last.
Medicated on
morphine out of his mind.
The tumor still
growing in his brain.
His body turning yellow
from the shut down of his kidney's and
liver.
I was enjoying a
beautiful, sunny fall day.
Connie, well, now poor
Connie, she is in so much pain.
Much like the pain
I had suffered.
I felt wonderful!
As
I sat at my breakfast table, I could feel it build in me.
A physical feeling
coursing through my body.
I
even felt a small twinge of pain in the base of my skull from the exhilaration.
He
shoulda known better.
I
walked out to the porch, breathed in the crisp fall air and bent over to pick
up the Mannion Falls Press.
I
quickly scanned the headlines.
No good news there
for sure.
Everyone
was beating up on the President.
I
turned to the second section and an item in the obituary column caught my eye.
“Vern
Stark died Thursday of burns
suffered
on Saturday. Mr. Stark
was
filling his lawn mower with
gasoline
when it exploded, covering
eighty
percent of his body in burns.
Mr. Stark leaves behind
his fiancee
Darlene Rose, his son,
John and a
host
of friends.”
Vern Stark.
We had a wonderful
relationship that lasted for four years.
He was, and if I
wanted to admit it, still the love of my life.
Two kindred
souls. So much alike it was eerie.
The year before I
met him, he had dated Darlene. She had
broken up with him which left him feeling depressed and withdrawn.
I guess she was
the love of his life?
She had soon
married and moved to Wyoming.
When Vern and I
first met, we talked about it and when I questioned him on how he felt about
Darlene, he assured me.
“That’s all water
over the dam. She used me…she knew how
to manipulate me and I couldn’t see it.
She wanted me when she wanted something from me and then when I thought
our relationship was going somewhere…well…she pushed me away. I never want to
see her again.”
Okay. I was reassured.
Six months before
Vern broke up with me, Darlene came back to town. Newly divorced and looking for an old friend
to talk to.
“It’s just a
friendly lunch,” he told me. “There is
nothing to it.”
Then the “friendly
lunch” turned into friendly dinners and friendly phone calls almost every day.
Then frantic pleas
of, “The kitchen cabinet door fell off the hinges.
Vern, could you please come and fix it for me,” and off to Darlene’s he
went.
Just being a
friend.
It took me a long time to get wise. Maybe I just didn’t want to see?
He was dead!
I wondered if he
had suffered.
Burns over eighty
percent of his body? He must have
suffered horribly for those five days.
I put the
newspaper down, leaned back in my chair and smiled.
Grinned, actually.
Grinned so hard my
cheeks hurt.
One by one, they
were dying!
The phone rang.
“What? I can’t
understand you,” I said.
“It’s Connie. Jane…he’s gone.”
Connie was sobbing
uncontrollably. I could hardly
understand her.
“What? Connie…slow down. Take a deep breath. Is it Lee?”
“Yes…Jane…he died early
this morning. They said he would live a
month, but his whole body shut down. He
was comatose. I never got a chance to
say goodbye. “
I frowned to keep
the laughter out of my voice.
“Oh, Sweetie. I am so very, very sorry. I know how much you loved him. I know that you are…suffering. I am just so sorry.”
“Jane, I knew you
would understand. You are the kindest
woman I know?”
“Have you had time
to make any arrangements?” I asked.
“Well, I have
talked to the funeral home and they said we could have the funeral on
Monday. Visitation will be tomorrow
evening and again on Sunday.”
“Well Dear, you
know I will be there for you. You just
call me when you have all the arrangements made and I will be at the funeral
home with you for as long as you need me.”
“Thanks,
Jane. I have to go now and talk to his
sister.”
“Please tell Annie
that I send my sympathy.”
“I will Dear. Goodbye.”
Good thing she got
off the phone. I could barely contain
the giggle that welled up in my throat.
That wouldn’t have
been nice of me.
Now. Right now--two past loves…both dead within a
day of each other.
I thought…“Death comes in threes. Wonder who will be next.
Jim, George? Perhaps that bastard David?”
They could run,
but eventually….
They all had the
same “disease” in common. Harold, Tim, Vern
and now Lee.
I had known and
loved them all and they had thrown me away.
They took the gift
I offered them. Unwrapped the shiny
golden paper and threw it on the ground; stomped on it, kicked it aside and
walked away.
Thrown me away
like worthless junk.
A used, fast food
container thrown in the ditch.
I deserved to be
treated better than garbage.
I felt the warm physical
exhilaration start again. Blood rushed through my body and into my head. I could
hear my heart pounding in my ears.
I would have no
problem sleeping tonight.
Mannion Falls Press
Police found the body of
Jane Martin
in her east side home
Saturday morning.
They
were alerted by her best friend
Connie
Wilson after she had called
Ms.
Martin several times, with no answer.
The
coroner ruled death from a brain aneurysm.
Ms. Martin was a member
of the Mannion Falls
Methodist Church, President of the Mannion
Falls
Singles Club, and secretary of the
Willow Grove Ladies Golf League.
She
leaves behind her beloved
cat Molly and a host of
friends.
