television career. That he was constantly on call and traveling all the time didn’t seem to bother her. The kids were her world.
And when the world came crashing down, Suzanne never really got over it, he thought, as he leaned down to stroke the thick fur of the Irish setter who sat at his feet. She went through the motions, continuing to raise Wayne and tend to Seth, getting involved in the parental activities at school, trying to make birthdays and holidays festive occasions. But Linus couldn’t remember ever seeing her laugh again. Smiles, yes, but full, hearty laughter, never.
It was as if she had held on just as long as she could. After Wayne went off to college that first time, Suzanne had given up. The quiet apartment left her too much time to think. She’d stare out the picture windows, not seeing the glorious riot of color in Central Park that autumn. By Thanksgiving she was dead.
The medical examiner’s report had listed coronary failure. How appropriate. Her heart had finally just given up.
Nine years ago now.
Linus took a long swallow of his vodka and forced himself to concentrate on the giant screen as Lee’s anthrax segment replayed. Watching Lee hold up the test tube, Linus felt himself growing as angry as he had when he first heard that the powder was sugar instead of anthrax. Lee was a fool. A stupid, arrogant fool.
No one got away with making Linus Nazareth look like an ass.
Linus shook his head groggily, awakened by the noise coming from the hallway.
“Wayne?”
“Yeah, Dad. It’s me.”
“Come on in here, son.”
Wayne stood in the library doorway, still wearing his overcoat, his hair tousled from the cutting wind outside. His eyes were red-rimmed.
“Have a good time?”
Wayne shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“What’d you do?”
“Went out with some friends.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I don’t think so.” His son wasn’t giving up much.
“Well, I’m glad you went out and had some fun. You should do more of that, Wayne. You’re young and free. You should be enjoying yourself.”
“Okay, Dad. I’m going to bed now.”
Linus listened to the sound of the footsteps going down the spiral staircase. He waited a few minutes before following, the dog shuffling behind him. He passed Wayne’s closed bedroom door before stopping at the other.
As Linus entered the dimly lit room, the night-duty nurse switched off the pencil light trained on the book she was reading.
“How’s it going?” Linus asked, peering toward the single bed at the other side of the room. Tucked secure beneath the warm blankets, the thin form was barely visible.
“Fine, Mr. Nazareth.”
What did he expect her to say? Nothing ever changed. There was never any good news to report. Seth slept here, in the room beside his brother’s, day after day, month after month, year after year.
It was always the same.
What would this son have been? Linus asked himself the question that he had been asking for over two decades now. Would Seth have been a concert pianist or a football star? A writer or a doctor? A clergyman or a cop?
Would they have had a good relationship, closer than the one Linus had with Wayne? Would they have shared the same interests and passions? Would Seth have been a son Linus could be proud of?
He tried to shake away the wistful sadness. There was no use going over it again. Seth was what Seth was. Wayne was the only egg in Linus’s basket.
Saturday
November 22
Chapter 53
When the network had decided to replace the weekend edition of KEY to America with cartoons, Annabelle had started watching The Saturday Early Show on CBS. As the kids ate their pancakes and drank their orange juice, she went to the living room and switched on the set, keeping the volume low. There would surely be coverage on the anthrax victim at KEY News, and Annabelle didn’t need Thomas and Tara hearing about it on TV. When there was any explaining to be done, she herself would tell them.
Rubbing her
And when the world came crashing down, Suzanne never really got over it, he thought, as he leaned down to stroke the thick fur of the Irish setter who sat at his feet. She went through the motions, continuing to raise Wayne and tend to Seth, getting involved in the parental activities at school, trying to make birthdays and holidays festive occasions. But Linus couldn’t remember ever seeing her laugh again. Smiles, yes, but full, hearty laughter, never.
It was as if she had held on just as long as she could. After Wayne went off to college that first time, Suzanne had given up. The quiet apartment left her too much time to think. She’d stare out the picture windows, not seeing the glorious riot of color in Central Park that autumn. By Thanksgiving she was dead.
The medical examiner’s report had listed coronary failure. How appropriate. Her heart had finally just given up.
Nine years ago now.
Linus took a long swallow of his vodka and forced himself to concentrate on the giant screen as Lee’s anthrax segment replayed. Watching Lee hold up the test tube, Linus felt himself growing as angry as he had when he first heard that the powder was sugar instead of anthrax. Lee was a fool. A stupid, arrogant fool.
No one got away with making Linus Nazareth look like an ass.
Linus shook his head groggily, awakened by the noise coming from the hallway.
“Wayne?”
“Yeah, Dad. It’s me.”
“Come on in here, son.”
Wayne stood in the library doorway, still wearing his overcoat, his hair tousled from the cutting wind outside. His eyes were red-rimmed.
“Have a good time?”
Wayne shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“What’d you do?”
“Went out with some friends.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I don’t think so.” His son wasn’t giving up much.
“Well, I’m glad you went out and had some fun. You should do more of that, Wayne. You’re young and free. You should be enjoying yourself.”
“Okay, Dad. I’m going to bed now.”
Linus listened to the sound of the footsteps going down the spiral staircase. He waited a few minutes before following, the dog shuffling behind him. He passed Wayne’s closed bedroom door before stopping at the other.
As Linus entered the dimly lit room, the night-duty nurse switched off the pencil light trained on the book she was reading.
“How’s it going?” Linus asked, peering toward the single bed at the other side of the room. Tucked secure beneath the warm blankets, the thin form was barely visible.
“Fine, Mr. Nazareth.”
What did he expect her to say? Nothing ever changed. There was never any good news to report. Seth slept here, in the room beside his brother’s, day after day, month after month, year after year.
It was always the same.
What would this son have been? Linus asked himself the question that he had been asking for over two decades now. Would Seth have been a concert pianist or a football star? A writer or a doctor? A clergyman or a cop?
Would they have had a good relationship, closer than the one Linus had with Wayne? Would they have shared the same interests and passions? Would Seth have been a son Linus could be proud of?
He tried to shake away the wistful sadness. There was no use going over it again. Seth was what Seth was. Wayne was the only egg in Linus’s basket.
Saturday
November 22
Chapter 53
When the network had decided to replace the weekend edition of KEY to America with cartoons, Annabelle had started watching The Saturday Early Show on CBS. As the kids ate their pancakes and drank their orange juice, she went to the living room and switched on the set, keeping the volume low. There would surely be coverage on the anthrax victim at KEY News, and Annabelle didn’t need Thomas and Tara hearing about it on TV. When there was any explaining to be done, she herself would tell them.
Rubbing her
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