“Yes, I . . . I thought so, too.” Oh, gosh. This was going to hit Sadie real hard. It was hitting me, hard, too. “Um . . . the strokes. Does that mean he’ll have more?”

Dr. McIntyre looked kind. “We’re adjusting his medications, but it’s definitely possible.”

John was asleep now, his chin on his chest. Good. I didn’t want him to have to hear this. Know this. Oh, he looked so old, so sad!

“He’s probably safer using the walker all the time,” Evan said. “A wheelchair for when he’s tired. You may want to look into hiring a full-time caregiver. We can give you referrals, of course.”

“Gotcha. I . . . So he’s not . . . going to improve.” No one said anything. “Do you have any guesses on how long he’ll . . . be with us?”

“It’s always so hard to predict,” the doctor said.

So they weren’t going to say the words outright. “Can I have a sec?” I asked.

“Of course,” Dr. McIntyre said. “Use the room next door.”

I practically ran to it, closed the door and started to shake.

So this was it, then. My husband, the once intelligent, wry attorney, was gone. He’d never talk to his grandchildren again. Sadie and Juliet wouldn’t get him back. We’d never have another night where talking was even a possibility, and suddenly, those silent nights of him watching television and me answering e-mails felt awfully precious.

I shouldn’t have let them operate on him that day in January. I should’ve let him go, but gosh, I don’t even remember that being presented as an option.

This was his life now. He’d just slip away, inch by inch, confused and scared and exhausted until he died. And not to put too fine a point on it, I’d be his caregiver for the rest of his life, or the rest of mine. Almost without knowing it, I pulled out my phone.

“Caro?” I said.

“What’s wrong, honey?” The concern in her voice brought me to tears.

“He’s not going to get better. He’s had a couple of little strokes, and . . . and he’s not getting better.” I started to cry.

“Oh, shit, Barb. I’m so sorry. Are you at Gaylord now?”

“Yes. I didn’t want the girls to come, because I suspected there would be bad news. I just didn’t know it would be so . . . definite.”

“Barb, why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come! We’re best friends, for God’s sake!”

“I should have.”

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You come home, I’ll bring dinner tonight, and wine and lots of it, and we can talk to the girls and go from there. Don’t worry, hon. We’ve got this.”

We. A person forgot what a beautiful word that was when it had been you for so long.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Sadie