Brenda & Ian Ch. 01

"I know, but..."

"Let me ask you something."

"Okay."

"Would your mom want to live like this? Would she want to be alive only because a machine was breathing for her?"

Brenda looked down, knowing that Ian was right. "Never. She would never want to be like this."

Ian moved around until he was facing her. He put both hands on her shoulders and said, "You wouldn't be killing her. You would be giving her a gift, a gift to be with your dad. This is one last thing that you can do for her." He looked deep into her beautiful eyes. "I think it's something that she'd want you to do."

Brenda looked down and sighed heavily. Shaking her head back and forth, she said, "I just don't want to let go. Daddy's already gone..."

"I know..."

"No, you don't know!" she snapped. "You have no idea. My father is dead and now, they want me to pull the plug on my mom. Besides going to class, what big decision did you make today? What tee shirt to wear? This is a little bit tougher than that!"

"I'm not trying to trivialize it, Brenda."

"Damn it, I know," she cried, "but I can't let go." Brenda looked down, ashamed of her weakness. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes and nose with it. "I know I should do it. I know that she'll never recover. I know that she would want it done this way. God, how can I do it? How can I allow my mother to die?"

Ian had no answer for her as he looked blankly at her face.

"Shit!" she said to no one in particular. Standing up, she walked to the door and motioned for the doctors to come in.

"I'm ready," she said when they entered.

"Are you sure?" Dr. Mulcahy asked, looking her straight in the eye.

"Yes. I just want to be there."

"Of course you can, Miss Barringer. Whenever you're ready, we have some paperwork for you to sign."

They entered the room where Brenda's mother lay. It seemed as cold and lifeless as the person in the bed. Ian thought that the patient in the bed looked like his Aunt Alice, but her features were distorted from the bandages and bruising. The only sounds in the room were the whirring and clicking of machines that were keeping her alive. Two nurses moved around them and prepared Alice for her journey. Brenda nudged Ian and led him to Alice's bedside. She immediately took her mother's hand and held it, while reaching for Ian's with the other. She remained motionless, staring down at her mother's battered and scarred body. Numerous times, Brenda squeezed Ian's hand, sometimes so tight that he thought that his fingers would break. Dr. Haynes and Dr. Mulcahy arrived a short time later, slipping into the room so quietly that Ian almost didn't notice. They talked to the nurses in hushed tones and glanced at Brenda every few seconds.

A few minutes later, Dr. Mulcahy moved over to Brenda and said, "Whenever you're ready, please take as much time as you need."

Brenda nodded, "I'm ready. I've said my good-byes." Brenda then leaned over the railing and kissed her mother on the cheek. With tears streaming down her face, she said, "I love you, mom." She straightened up and backed away, still holding her mom's hand.

Dr. Haynes went over to the machines and started to flip switches. The whirring and clicking stopped and the only sound was the heart monitor's slow, irregular beat. Within a few minutes, her breathing became shallower and her heartbeat, slower. They watched her chest rise and fall, rise and fall, and then it stopped. Ian looked at the monitor and it had gone flat. Dr. Haynes noted on the medical chart that the time of death was 2:38 a.m.

The doctors and nurses left them alone after a few minutes. Brenda stayed composed as her mother's once warm hand became cool and her skin turned a gray-blue color. It may have been a few minutes or a few hours, Ian didn't know how long they stayed. He didn't care. After a while, Brenda eased her grip on Ian's hand and began to massage it with her thumb.

She looked up at him and said, "Mom says that it's okay to go now." She put her mother's hand on the bed, patted it, and then turned and left the room with Ian following. Ian didn't know what transpired during those last few minutes and the subject was never brought up, but it gave Brenda peace and closure.

The sky was dark and still when they left the hospital. Although it had stopped raining, the air felt heavy. Ian inhaled deeply, taking in the cool, fresh air as opposed to the sterile hospital atmosphere. It felt good to be outside. Hands in his pockets, Ian stared at the moon for a few moments. It glowed like a beacon, lighting the sky for all to see. Brenda interlocked her arm with his and put her head against his shoulder. Ian broke his gaze and started to walk towards his car.

As they neared his car, Brenda said, "Mine's over there." She pointed to the right.

"I know. I'll drive you home."

"I can drive."

"No."

"You can follow me."

"No, we'll pick your car up later. Come on."

"Okay," she said sadly.

They drove in silence, both too tired and sad to say anything. When they arrived at her house ten minutes later, Ian walked her to the door. As she fumbled for her keys, she asked, "Come in for a few minutes?"

"Sure."

She found the right key and the door opened noiselessly. Brenda flipped on a few lights as they entered the foyer. Ian had always liked their house, a large two story Tudor that had five bedrooms and three baths. They had an in-ground pool and a tennis court. They walked into the living room and then to the kitchen.

"I need some water," she said as she turned on the light. Want some?" she asked over her shoulder.

"That would be fine," he answered.

As she neared the sink, Brenda noticed the light blinking on the answering machine that was on the bar. She pressed a button to hear the messages.

"You have one message," the machine said.

Brenda took two glasses from the cupboard and filled them from the tap as the message started to play.

"Harry, this is Roger. Give me a call tonight or this weekend. Thanks. Bye."

"Time of message, 9:45 p.m. Save or delete?" the machine asked.

Brenda ignored it and went to the refrigerator to get some ice cubes.

"Who's Roger?" Ian asked, although it was none of his business.

"Mom and dad's partner," she said solemnly. "I guess I should call him." Her parents had been lawyers and owners of a large firm with Roger Rigsby, the caller.

"It's pretty late," Ian said, noting his watch.

"He needs to know," she replied. She handed Ian a glass and set hers down by the phone. There was a personal phone book nearby and she thumbed through it until she found his number.

As she dialed, Ian asked, "Do you want some privacy?" Brenda shook her head and reached for his hand. Once she finished dialing, there was a long pause. After seven or eight rings, the call was answered on the other line.

"Hello," the old, familiar voice said, tired, but alert.

"Uncle Roger, it's me, Brenda.

"What is the matter, dear? It is very late."

"I know it's late. I'm sorry. But...."

"But what, dear? What is wrong?"

"It's mom and dad." Brenda stopped and tried to remain calm. "They've been in an accident and, and they didn't make it." She sighed and tried to keep from crying.

"Oh no, oh dear!" Roger exclaimed. "Are you okay, dear? Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, Uncle Roger. I wasn't with them."

"Thank goodness you are okay. Have you spoken to anyone else?"

"Just my cousin, Ian. He's been with me the entire night."

"I want you to listen very carefully, Brenda," he said sternly. He wanted to remain composed for her sake.

"Okay."

"I have been entrusted with your parent's will and I am the executor of the will. I want you to leave everything to me. I will take care of everything, understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said meekly.

"Do you think that you can come to the office sometime today? Late in the afternoon so that you can get some rest."

"Yes, I can be there. What time?"

"Would four o'clock suffice?"

"That would be fine, Uncle Roger. Thank you so much."

"What hospital are they at?" he asked apprehensively.

"What?" she asked.

"What hospital were your parents brought to?" he asked gently.

"The University Hospital," she replied.

"Fine. I will take care of everything."

"Thank you."

"See you at four, dear. Thank you for calling me. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me."

"Thank you, I will Uncle Roger.

Roger sat down in a nearby chair and did something that he hadn't done since his mother died twenty-seven years earlier. He cried.

Brenda put down the receiver and started to breathe heavily, trying to control her emotions. She let go of Ian's hand and steadied herself on the back of the chair. Once she was under control again, she looked at Ian with her sad, brown eyes. Ian really missed seeing them sparkle and shine, but he knew that it would be quite a long time before he saw that again. He looked back at her expectedly.

"He's such a sweet man," she said softly. Ian nodded. "He said that everything will be taken care of, that I needn't worry about anything. He has the will and he's the executor. He wants to see me tomorrow, I mean today at four. Will you come with me?"

"Of course, I will," Ian said. He took a large gulp from from his glass, almost emptying it. Brenda still hadn't touched hers. An awkward moment of silence followed as the steady tick, tick, tick of the kitchen clock became louder. Ian finished the rest of his water, walked to the sink and emptied the ice. He put the glass in the sink where others were situated.

As Ian turned back to her, he cleared his throat and said, "It's really late. Do you want me to stay?"

"Please stay."

"I'll need to call my folks."

"Call them from here."

"I don't know where they are. They could be in Russia, Finland, or Norway right now. Their schedule's at home."

"Please stay," she pleaded. "I don't want to be alone in this house tonight." Tears again began to well in her eyes as they melted Ian. He could never say no to her. She continued, "We've got plenty of room...even more now..."

"Okay," Ian said softly, "I'll stay. But, I'll need to go home and make some calls and pack a bag. I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." Ian started to to head to the door.

When they got to the door, Ian asked, "You okay?" She nodded, yes. "I should be back in an hour."

"Okay," she replied. "I'll have a room ready for you."

"All right," he said as he stepped into the cool March morning. Brenda watched him pull away, hugging herself, until he was out of sight. Ian watched her in the rear view mirror until he rounded the bend.

Ian wasn't as tired as he thought he'd be noting that it was after four in the morning, especially since he was ready to go to bed six hours earlier. The ride home was uneventful and he didn't hurry too much. When Ian got home, he went directly to his father's study where he had the itinerary and phone numbers in his neat script on a legal pad. They were supposed to be in Helsinki that day, but Ian had no clue as to what time it was there. He called the overseas operator and gave him the information. After a few seconds, a strange recorded language spoke to him. He assumed that it was Finnish and waited a few seconds. Finally, an English recording came on and asked him to press "2" for an English speaking person. Ian pressed "2" and a real voice came through his earpiece.

"Helsinki Grande Hotel. May I help you?" a very pretty voice purred at him, almost breathless.

"Adrian Nicks' room, please."

"One moment, I'll connect you. Please hold," she purred.

The phone was picked up immediately on the first ring. "Adrian Nicks speaking," he commanded.

"Hi dad, it's Ian."

"What a surprise, Ian. I'm expecting a really important call right now. Can this wait?"

"I really need to talk to mom. Is she there?"

"She's resting. What's the problem?" he asked impatiently.

Ian sighed and said, "Uncle Harry and Aunt Alice died in a car accident last night. I thought that you and mom would want to know."

"Yes, of course we would want to know about that. I'll tell your mother when she wakes..."

"Could I talk to her now?" Ian interrupted.

"Ian, I must keep this line open. Thank you for calling us, but I must go."

"I see," Ian said as he sensed his father's temper rising. "If you want to contact me, I'll be at Brenda's for a day or so."

"Brenda's?" his father asked, his interest piqued.

"Yes, she asked me to stay with her."

"Why?"

"She's got no one else and she scared, dad!" Ian answered, a bit angry, also.

"Yes, I see," his father replied. "Well..."

"I won't tie up your line any longer. Have mom call me when she wants to."

"Okay, Ian, we'll be in touch. Good-bye."

"Bye."

When Ian hung up the phone, he was incensed that a business call was more important to his father than hearing about a family member's death. Unfortunately, his father was power and money hungry and was like a shark in blood-infested waters when a deal was about to be struck. Oil and money, money and oil, the two were interchangeable with him. Ian knew that he shouldn't complain because his father's money and power had given him many wonderful things in his short life. However, sometimes, it seemed that money and power consumed him like an unquenchable fire. This was one of the times when Ian wished that they weren't so wealthy.

Ian left his father's study and went to his room to pack. Ian found a small suitcase in the hall closet and put it on his bed. He had no idea what to pack or how long he would be staying, so he threw two of everything into it; two shirts, two tee shirts, two pairs of slacks, etc. He then went to his bathroom and got his razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, and toothpaste. He also took his shower gel and shampoo. He went back to his room and found a clean pair of sweatpants to use as sleepwear. He didn't like pajamas and the sweatpants were warmer. He threw that into the suitcase as well. Once he was satisfied that he had everything, he took the suitcase and went back downstairs to the kitchen. Ian left notes for the maid and the cook explaining the situation and stating that he wouldn't be back for a day or so and that he would contact them when he got back. He then reset the security alarm and left.

A wave of panic hit Brenda when she saw Ian's car disappear into the night. She was alone in her house and wasn't sure what to do. Her breathing quickened and she knew that she would start to hyperventilate if she didn't calm down. She also knew that she needed to make one more phone call before she went to bed. Brenda went back inside and closed the door behind her. After locking it, she began to realize how quiet the house was. Panic started to come over her again and she fought against it desperately. "I have to hold myself together until Ian gets back," she said to herself. Her anxiety started to decrease as her thoughts turned to him. She thought back to their lunch together the day before, how they laughed about their silly love lives. If only she could go back to that time and tell her parents not to go out for the evening. It's too late now, she thought ruefully.

Brenda pushed away from the door and headed back to the kitchen where her water glass still sat. Anger started to fill her where fear once was. She picked up the glass and hurled it against the far wall, shattering it, sending shards, water, and ice everywhere.

"Damn it!" she screamed, "Why did you leave me? Why...?" She sank to her knees. "I'm alone now," she cried, "all alone." Burying her face in her hands, she cried and cried until she was exhausted and there were no more tears to shed. She wiped her eyes with her blouse sleeve and looked at the mess that she created.

The drive back to Brenda"s house was uneventful as Ian fought off sleep. He was now beyond exhausted and dearly wanted to find a warm bed. Although there was a possibility that Brenda would want to stay up and talk, Ian selfishly hoped against it, although he would stay up as long as she wanted him to. She met him at the door and saw immediately how exhausted he looked. "Oh Ian," she said softly as she took his hand, "come on, I'll show you to your room." She led him up the stairs, where at the landing, they turned right. She turned on the light at the first room on the left and entered. Ian followed, suitcase still in hand.

"Here, put your suitcase on the chair," Brenda said, pointing to the dark green recliner. The room had a large king sized bed with blue carpeting and drapes to match. There were many pictures on the walls, mainly of hunting and outdoors scenes. This was plainly a man's room, thought Ian, looking around. There were two dressers in the room and a writing desk in the corner which had a computer, monitor, printer, and phone on it.

Brenda called to him from the right, "There's a shower, sink, and toilet in here."

Ian put his suitcase on the bed and followed her voice. "There's towels in the cupboard," she said as she opened them for him.

"Okay," Ian said. "I don't know if I have the strength to take a shower now. Maybe after I wake up."

"Poor guy," Brenda said as she brushed past him and headed to the door. Looking over her shoulder, she said, "My room's right across the hall if you can't find something. I've got a few things to do before I turn in."

"What time are you getting up?" Ian asked.

"I guess around noon. We have to be downtown around four. I have to find out about funeral arrangements, too."

"Need any help with anything?"

"No," Brenda replied, thinking about the glass, "I don't need help." She hesitated at the door, holding onto the knob.

"You okay?" Ian asked as Brenda looked down.

"I'm okay," she said, barely audible. Looking at him directly in his eyes, she said, "You'll never know how grateful I am to have you here with me." She turned quickly and left the room before she started to cry again. Before Ian could respond, he heard her bounding down the stairs. Ian went back to his suitcase and began getting ready for bed.

Brenda was physically and emotionally exhausted as she finished cleaning up her mess. Before Ian came back to the house, she had called her mother's oldest brother, Russell, whom she knew kept late hours, to tell him the news and asked him to call the rest of the family. When she was satisfied that all of the glass was off the floor, Brenda put the broom and dustpan away, turned off the lights, and headed to her room. The door to Ian's room was closed, so she assumed that he was asleep. She would have liked to talk to him more, but she knew how tired he looked and he needed sleep. It wasn't until then that she realized how tiredshe was. Barely able to stand any longer, she slipped out of her clothes and threw on a nightgown. Crawling into bed, Brenda looked at the pictures that surrounded her on her two nightstands. One was of her and Ryan taken right before he died; another of her parents; one of all four of them together, a family sitting; and the last one was of her and Ian taken at Disney World the previous summer. She fought back tears as she remembered the good times with Ryan, times when he wasn't on drugs and enjoying life. She remembered telling her parents to have a great time when they left the house for the last time, not knowing that her life would be forever changed in just a few short hours. Brenda reached for a Teddy Bear, the last gift that Ryan had given her, as the tears began to flow. Hugging it fiercely, she said, "I need you, Ryan, I need you. I wish you were here. I wish all of you were here!"

She turned, switched off the lamp, and cried herself into a dreamless sleep.

Saturday, March 13

Although the alarm was set on low, it woke Ian with a start. Looking around, confused at first by his surroundings, Ian slowly realized where he was. Even though it was noon, he felt a little groggy and was tempted to sleep more. However, he slowly sat up and turned off the alarm. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Ian slipped on his gym shoes and stood up. He put on the shirt that he had worn the previous night and headed out of the room. The room across the hall, Brenda's, was open and empty. Ian made his way down to the kitchen to find her at the breakfast nook reading the newspaper.