“I said no. I’ll go. They know me. I do want you to come in the house and be with Dad, however.”
Sunny eyed her curiously. “What gives? You’re acting strange. What’s wrong with me going to Hays for the medicine?”
Kathy felt uncomfortable and looked away. “Look, I don’t have time to argue about this. They’re going to be very particular about who they give the morphine to. I don’t want any delays.”
“You think that because of the past—my drug addiction—that I might be tempted to use some of Dad’s medication. Is that it?”
“Well . . . I wouldn’t . . . I don’t want you—”
“I can’t believe this!” Sunny was livid. “How could you even think something so hideous? I should have never told you anything—you hold stuff against a person forever, don’t you?”
Kathy became increasingly defensive. “Look, I don’t know anything about you except for what you’ve told me. And I know nothing about drugs, except that they’re hard to kick once you get addicted. Don’t play the wounded victim in this. You are a liability I can’t afford to risk.”
“Boy, you said it there. That’s exactly how you feel about me. It’s how you’ve treated me since I walked through the front door. I’m sure glad God doesn’t hold a grudge like you do.”
Kathy was dumbfounded by her sister’s statement. Maybe she had responded poorly to the situation, but it didn’t merit Sunny’s anger. “Look, I haven’t got time for your wounded feelings. I need to get that medicine so that Dad can be out of pain. Will you stay with him or should I call someone else?”
Sunny clenched her jaw and folded her arms against her chest. “Just go. I’ll be here, and I’ll handle things just fine without you.”
Kathy stood facing off with Sunny for another few seconds before turning to go. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
From the moment she reached the doctor’s office in Hays, things started to go wrong. Kathy was frustrated when the nurse couldn’t locate the written prescription. The doctor had gone to make a hospital call, so he couldn’t just write out a second order. Finally someone thought to look in her father’s chart and found it clipped to the outside.
With the paper in hand, she hurried to their regular pharmacy only to get more bad news.
“Sorry, Kathy. We don’t have the liquid oral morphine on hand,” the pharmacist apologized. “I’ve called around for you and Dillons has it. If you take the prescription there, they should have you set in no time.”
But that wasn’t the way it went at all. Kathy presented the prescription only to have the woman look at her as if she were a drug dealer trying to pull a fast one.
“Who are you to the person this medication is intended?”
“I’m his daughter. My father is dying from cancer.”
“I see.”
But it clearly sounded as though the woman didn’t see. “I’ll need your identification—something with a picture.”
Kathy pulled out her driver’s license and handed it to the woman. She looked at the card, then at Kathy and back at the card. Finally she asked, “Do you have anything else?”
“Good grief. My father is dying. I just want to get him some medication to ease his pain. Didn’t you talk to Brad at Wilcox’s? He said he called over here to let you know what was happening. He knows me. I’ve been dealing with him ever since Dad got sick.”
The woman looked at her blankly. Clearly she was unmoved by Kathy’s plea. “Do you have any other form of identification?”
“Nothing else with a photo. I have a credit card and insurance card. Oh, and I have a checkbook.” Kathy dumped the contents of her purse on the counter. “I have a hairbrush; maybe you could do DNA testing.” Her sarcasm was not winning any friends.
“Look, we have our rules. I don’t know you,” the woman said in her authoritative manner. “For all I know, you’ve set this entire thing up to get the drugs for yourself.”
Kathy suddenly wondered if this was how Sunny felt. Kathy hadn’t even given her sister a chance. She’d just presumed Sunny would be a risk where the morphine was concerned. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. All she wanted was to get her father some medicine to cut the pain. Tears spilled from her eyes as she gathered the things from her purse.
“Call the doctor’s office. I’ve spent a good portion of the last year there. I was just there today. They know me, even if you don’t. I’m going to sit over here in your waiting area.”
She was glad that the woman said nothing further. It seemed to take forever before the pharmacist called her name. He was a tall older man with great compassion in his expression.
“I’m sorry for the difficulty in getting this filled,” he began. “We have to be careful.”
“That’s fine,” Kathy said. “Just tell me what I have to do so that I can get back to Dad. He doesn’t have much time, and I’ve wasted enough of it here.”
The man gave her instructions on the dosage and use. Kathy quickly signed the paper work and paid for the medicine. She was well on her way home when she broke down. Why did it have to be so hard?
“They made me feel like a criminal—and I haven’t done anything but come to get medicine for my father.”
She thought again of Sunny.
That must have been how I
made her feel. I stood there with my accusing attitude and had
no reason to believe it would have been a problem. Just because
she had a problem in the past doesn’t mean she has one now.
She’s done nothing to make me suspicious. I was unfair
.
Kathy drove well over the speed limit all the way home. The two-lane road to Slocum wasn’t the best in the world, but Kathy didn’t care. She thought only of getting the morphine to Dad so that he could rest peacefully in his final days—hours.
“Lord, I was wrong. I should never have made Sunny feel that way. I had no reason to act like I did. I was suspicious based solely on the past. Just like I don’t want to trust her because of the past. I need to change my heart, Lord, but I don’t know how.”
She drove down the gravel road to the farm, slowing only enough to keep the car under control. The house was soon in sight and Kathy eased off the gas with a sense of accomplishment. She sighed. She would apologize to Sunny and let her know how wrong she’d been, just as soon as she gave Dad his medicine.
Kathy hurried into the house and made her way to the den. She heard Sunny crying, but the meaning didn’t register until she came into the den. Sunny was sitting with her head on Dad’s chest, sobbing.
“Sunny?” she asked apprehensively. “Are you all right?”
Her sister straightened and wiped at her tears. “Kathy. Oh, Kathy. He’s gone.”
“What? Are you sure?” Kathy tossed her things aside and hurried to the bed. She reached for Dad’s hand and felt for a pulse. Her own heart was racing like a trip-hammer.
“He stopped breathing about ten minutes ago. I waited, thinking he would take another breath, but he didn’t. I called hospice and they said they’d send an ambulance and the sheriff.”
Kathy collapsed into a chair. She couldn’t believe Dad had died without her being at his side. She hated to admit it, but she felt jealous that Sunny got to share his last moments.
She waited for her tears to come, but they didn’t. She was cried out. She’d spent the last few months mourning her father’s dying. Perhaps there was nothing left to offer his death.
NEARLY EVERYONE IN SLOCUM, KANSAS, turned out for the funeral of Gary Halbert. The man had been a friend to everyone, and no one could remember him ever having an enemy. Dad had died on the second of July, but Kathy had delayed the funeral until the seventh, hoping Aunt Glynnis could attend. Glynnis had taken a rather bad fall in her garden and the result was a twisted back that left her in a great deal of pain. Uncle Will said it wasn’t possible for her to make the trip, and while Kathy understood, she was still very disappointed. She had hoped to lean on Glynnis for support and understanding, but instead, the only family member present was Sunshine.
Things at the house had been strangely quiet. Sunny seemed to have withdrawn into her own little world, and Kathy was busy with telephone calls and final preparations for the funeral. She could hardly believe that an era of her life had come to an end. Dad was really gone. Everything from this point on would change.
As she stood at the graveside listening to the pastor’s final prayer, Kathy couldn’t help but steal a glance at her sister. Sunny stood with her head respectfully bent and eyes closed. She had dressed in a dark blue suit and white blouse and looked rather out of place. Others had worn their Sunday best for the event, but they seemed lackluster and almost shoddy compared to Sunny. There was just something about her that made her different. Maybe it was the cut of her clothes or the brand. It could be the way she styled her hair and wore her makeup. Whatever it was, it emphasized the fact that she didn’t belong in this group.
Kathy hadn’t given her own dark plum pantsuit much thought. She had fully intended to wear a lightweight dress to the funeral but, noting a strong wind that morning, changed her mind. Now as the hour approached noon, she was getting hot and wished only to put an end to the ordeal.
There’s still the funeral dinner at the church to get through
, she remembered.
People are going to expect me to be there for
them—to assure them that all is fine and that they did enough
.
Funny how funerals were in honor of the dead, but they were really about making sure the living felt vindicated of any negligence of which they might be guilty, or comforted because of the personal loss. Even Kathy found herself mentally calculating whether she’d done enough—said the right things—bought the proper flowers. She lowered her head as Pastor Butler ended his prayer.
“Go now with this family, Lord. Go also with the friends who have come here today. Ease their sorrow and let them reflect on the good times and blessings shared with them by our departed friend Gary. Amen.”
The crowd echoed the amen and waited momentarily, as if to be dismissed. The pastor came and took hold of Kathy’s hand. “We’ll certainly miss your father.”
“Yes, we will,” she agreed. “Thank you for a lovely service. I know he would have been pleased.”
The pastor turned rather awkwardly to Sunny. “And may God be with you in your grief.”
“Thank you.” Sunny seemed just as uncomfortable as the pastor. It was one of those moments that reminded Kathy of two people meeting for a blind date. Neither one was quite sure of what the other expected or needed. The thought made her smile, because the pastor was nearly seventy and married, and Sunny looked like she might bolt for home any minute.
“That was a real nice service,” Renea Stover said, coming to shake the pastor’s hand and offer Kathy her condolences. “This town just won’t be the same without you and your family.”
“It will be hard for me as well,” Kathy said. “I’ve never lived anywhere else, so Colorado Springs will be something completely different.”
“When do you go?”
“Well, that depends,” Kathy began. “I had fully expected to be out of here by the end of summer, but no one has bought the place yet. The Realtor said there was a bit of interest, but so far nothing has developed.”
“Pity. It’s such a nice place.”
“I know. I’ve always loved it here, but I’m not equipped to farm it myself.”
Renea eyed Sunny with contempt. “Will she go now?”
Kathy was glad that the pastor was still talking to Sunny. “Dad asked her to stay with me at least until the sale of the farm.”
Renea shook her head. “He didn’t take your feelings into consideration. I suppose it was the sickness.” She smoothed her black dress and leaned toward Kathy. “You know, given that his mind probably wasn’t what it should have been there at the end, you wouldn’t have to honor his request. No one would blame you if you sent her packing right now.”
“I’d blame myself,” Kathy replied, trying not to sound too harsh. “The Bible says blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. I’d rather be kind to my sister and honor my father’s wishes than demand my own way and show no mercy.”
Renea patted her arm. “That always was like you. Just give, give, give. Never with any motive.”
But Kathy knew Mrs. Stover was wrong. She had motives like everyone else. Over the years Kathy hadn’t realized it, but she was coming to understand them now. Funny how it should be Sunshine who helped her to see the truth.
But seeing the truth doesn’t mean I know what to do with
myself or my thoughts
. Kathy grimaced. Seeing the truth was just the beginning.
Kathy soon found herself surrounded by people. She recognized everyone. Most were longtime friends of her parents, some coming from as far away as Salina to pay their last respects and remember him.
“You look like you could use a nap,” Sylvia said as the bulk of the crowd eventually moved away.
“I’d love that,” Kathy admitted. “I’d like to sleep for about a week, but there’s too much to do.”
“Well, you know I’m at your disposal. If you need help with the house, just holler.”
Kathy looked around to see who else might overhear her. Satisfied that they could talk without any eavesdroppers, she continued. “This might sound strange, but I realized the day after Dad died that I felt this tremendous sense of relief. Like I could finally relax and let down now that he was gone. Does that sound awful?”