Mary Alice Monroe - The Beach House

“I’d like to see you eat more,” the doctor added to Lovie. “You’re still losing weight.”

“I’ll try,” Lovie replied in a lackluster tone, more to make the doctor happy. Privately, she couldn’t see much point in it. She was going to die anyway. But she didn’t express this so as not to alarm Toy. The girl seemed intent on keeping Lovie alive forever.

“Is there anything bothering you lately?” the doctor asked, looking up from the chart to skewer her with his dark eyes. “Any pain?”

Oh, yes, there was a great deal bothering her, Lovie thought. But the doctor knew he couldn’t cure her and seemed to have lost interest in her case, eager to finish the chart and file it.

“I’m handling the pain very nicely with the pills you gave me, thank you.”

“You’ll call me if at any time the pills don’t cover it anymore, okay?” He glanced at Toy for confirmation. She nodded dutifully. He closed the chart and rested his hand on it, shaking his thinning head of hair. “Well, that’s it then. I have to say I’m not happy that you’ve canceled the treatment, Mrs. Rutledge. I’d rather you continued on through the summer.”

Lovie closed her eyes and sighed.

“You stopped the treatment?” Toy asked, her eyes round with alarm.

“Yes, dear,” she replied, then faced the doctor. “If I continue throughout the summer, as you recommend, will I be cured?”

“No,” he replied cautiously. “Radiation was never the cure. But we discussed that, Mrs. Rutledge. Right?” He seemed unsettled that she should think otherwise.

“We did,” she replied firmly. “I understand that completely. And I also understand that I’m not expected to last much beyond the summer, if that. Right?”

He had the grace to smile.

She felt Toy squeeze her hand, nervously.

“So tell me, Doctor, if you had one summer left of your life, would you spend it in radiation therapy?”

“I might. If it took me into fall.”

Lovie shrugged slightly. “Summer’s enough for me. If it’s a good summer.”

“But Miss Lovie, you don’t know!” Toy was revving up and Lovie knew she could go on for a long time if not checked. “You can beat this!”

“Hush now, dear. I’ve made up my mind.” Then more softly, “Time is too precious for wishful thinking. I want to enjoy every minute the Good Lord gives me. And I can’t do that if I’m sick and exhausted. Why would I want to spend what little time I have left just waiting for death? Not when there’s still life in me. I’m firm, Doctor. No more radiation.”

Toy was silenced and her eyes filled.

The doctor nodded in understanding. “Very well,” he replied, pulling a prescription pad out from the pocket of his long white jacket. “Though our time here at the hospital is finished, Mrs. Rutledge, I do want to keep up with your progress. And, of course, I’ll be in touch with your regular doctor should there be any change. But there are immediate concerns you’ll have to discuss with your family about your care. We don’t know the time frame of the cancer spreading. Hopefully, this last series of treatments will keep it at bay for a while. The time will come when you will need more assistance than Miss Sooner is able to provide. You’ll need to gather a support system. Or you may want to consider moving into nursing care.”

“No! Miss Lovie won’t need to go nowhere. I’ll stay with her,” Toy said quickly.

Dr. Pittman looked at her with sympathy. “When is your baby due, Miss Sooner?”

“September.”

“You understand that is the same time Mrs. Rutledge might need the most help? Caregiving can become extremely demanding. How can you manage all of her pressing needs plus take on the additional burdens and worries of a new baby?”

Lovie answered. “I have grown children, and as you said, there are organizations I can call. I don’t want to go to a home.”

“I’m writing out a phone number of a social worker who is trained to help the family make this decision. There are many considerations, of course. You may want to discuss it with your clergyman as well.” He handed Lovie the paper. “I wish there was more that I could do for you. Best of luck to you. Keep in touch.”

After he left, Lovie slumped her shoulders with relief. She was done with doctors, at least for the summer.

“I wish you’d have told me you were planning on quitting the therapy.” Toy’s tone was reproachful.

“I’ve only just decided.”

“You’ll have to tell Cara now. About being sick, I mean.”

“No. And I forbid you to tell her, hear?”

“But…”

“Toy, let me be clear. I don’t want Cara to know. Not yet.”

“I don’t know why you’re protecting her,” she said with a flare of temper. “She’s supposed to be such a high-powered lady, right? Then she can handle it.”

“I’m not doing this to protect her. It’s because she is a high-powered lady, as you put it. If I tell her now, all we’ll talk about is the treatment. Besides, she doesn’t seem herself. I’ve more important things I want to discuss with her, and not very much time. If it gets too bad, then yes, I’ll tell her. But I’ll know when the time is right. You’ll have to trust me. And promise me that you won’t tell her.”

“Okay, I promise,” she agreed reluctantly. “But I don’t think it’s right. If it was me, I’d want to know. You should tell her.”

“Oh? Have you told your mother when the baby is due?”

“That’s different,” she replied quickly.

“Is it? Or are you afraid that she won’t care one way or the other? Toy, honey, I know what that is like. Maybe I’m afraid, too.” She smiled reassuringly and put her hand on Toy’s. “We can only do what we can live with.”

Toy nodded, chewing her lip.

“Now I’m dog tired and want to go home to my beach house. Let’s not fret about this any more today. After all, we both have the summer to think about it. And what a summer. Cara is home again! Your little hatchling is coming soon, too! There’s so much good happening. What do you say? Let’s make it a summer to remember.”

The ladies of Primrose Cottage rallied around Palmer’s invitation with an excitement that surprised them all. It had roused them from the lethargy that had hovered in the house. Part of the fun of the day was changing from the usual casual beach attire to something a bit dressy. When Cara stepped into the living room, Lovie stopped tying the rosy silk scarf over her linen dress to stare at her.

“Aren’t you going to dress for dinner?”

Cara looked at her new navy sweatpants with the white racing stripe down the sides. She thought it looked rather smart. “I thought I’d wear this.”

Lovie didn’t speak for a moment. “For dinner?”

“Mama, we’re going boating.”

“You look like you’re going to the gym! You can look so smart and you have all those pretty clothes. Why not wear something with a little color? High heels and a smidgen of lipstick go a long way to making a woman feel good about herself. Southern women know this.”

Cara took a deep breath. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve spent the last twenty years in Chicago.”

“Caretta Rutledge, you were born a Southern woman and don’t you ever forget it. When you left Charleston, you may have put miles between yourself and your family, lost your accent and gained a couple of degrees and titles, but where does that leave you? Where are you from? Darlin’, you can’t travel enough miles or live enough years to ever lose your heritage. You carry that with you in your blood.”

“I see. Now I’m in for the steel magnolia lecture?”

A sparkle of hard-won wisdom flickered in Lovie’s eyes. “I worry about you, Caretta. You are a strong woman, true enough. But strength without flexibility makes one hard. Come September, when those fierce winds blow in from the sea, those hardwoods crack, splinter and fall. But the pliant palms are resilient and they bend with the wind. This is the secret of a Southern woman. Strength, resilience and beauty. We are never hard.”