“Okay, you know what, Stanley? You’re right. It is my birthday. So let’s make a card. What should I put on it?”
But he lapsed into silence once more.
I hurried over to the desk, folded a piece of letterhead adorned with an embossed B in half, and selected a fountain pen from the marble cup. I knew he liked dogs, so I drew a stick figure of a dog that looked a bit like my golden retriever mix puppy. I added a bunch of flowers and wrote Happy Birthday inside.
I went back to the bed and sat next to him. “Look. Here it is. Do you want to give it to me now?”
I held it out, but he suddenly gripped my wrist so tightly that the paper fell from my fingers onto the stiff sheets.
“Help me, Daisy,” he said in a hoarse whisper, his eyes focused and very bright. “She’s trying to kill me!”
Chapter Two
“What?” I sucked in a breath.
Soft footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Stanley slumped back against the pillows.
“Everything all right?” Ruth came back into the bedroom, worry etched across her beautiful face.
“Yes, fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Stanley was just giving me my birthday card.”
For a second she frowned, and then she nodded in understanding.
I cleared my throat and gestured to the bedside table. “Um, I was wondering, Ruth. All those drugs. What do they do?”
She explained that some were to try to delay the progression of the disease as long as possible, some were for anxiety and depression, and some were sleep aids or antipsychotics.
I glanced over at Stanley for any kind of signal, but after his startling pronouncement, he was staring blankly at the ceiling again.
“Seems like an awful lot.” The sea of brown plastic bottles all looked exactly the same to me. “Must be hard to keep them straight.”
“That’s why I have a checklist.” Ruth sighed. “Jo Ellen’s a wonderful nurse, but she and I butt heads sometimes. She has her own way of doing things, and it’s not always the way I’ve instructed. Like signing off on giving him this medicine.”
A little while later, I got up to leave. If Stanley needed changing, I wanted to give them some privacy.
We walked downstairs, and when we got to the foyer, Ruth hovered in front of the door as I slipped on my coat. “Thank you for your kindness, Daisy. About the birthday card, I mean. It’s easier to go along with him than argue. It just gets him more upset.” She ran a hand across her forehead. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come over here. I guess that selfishly I wanted you to see . . .”
I swallowed against a lump in my throat. “What you have to deal with every day? Oh, Ruth, it’s okay. And I’m so sorry.” I hugged her and she hugged me tightly in return, like she never wanted to let me go. I rubbed her back a little to comfort her, feeling the bones of her spine through the silk. “You can share anything you want with me. This must be such a huge burden.”
She nodded, but didn’t speak again.
When I left the main house and walked back down the driveway, snow was falling. Huge, feathery flakes that tickled my nose and brushed against my eyes. The carriage house was dark now, and my car was the only vehicle parked outside. Our photogenic detective must have made for a quick shoot, or maybe Roos wanted to hurry things along and get down to the Sheepville Pub for one last fling.
I turned and looked up at the main house and toward the master bedroom, where light still blazed from its windows.