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Chapter or Story
“I take a great sigh of regret and lost friend
I know in my soul that we’ve come to the end”
The resort was wonderful, restful bubble baths and moon light strolls, a lot of privacy and uninterrupted afternoons in the bedroom (afternoons that weren’t quite spent sleeping). They had dressed casual, and gone out for dinner in the hotel café. Dinner was winding down, and Jarod had just said something extremely goofy.
Parker laughed, as Jarod took a bite of the pudding pie. He grinned at her, and they sat in silence as he chewed and swallowed. She turned her head, to look around her at the hotel café decor. A jerk on the table made her jump, and she swivelled back around, the words dying on her lips.
“Jarod, are you-” She froze. Jarod’s upper body was sprawled out on the table, as if he had fallen there, and his shoulders were twitching in a seizure like motion. Before she could even make it around the table to see his face, the twitching stopped. She wasn’t even aware that she was screaming until later- when someone pulled her away from the still body. All she could think was that Jarod wasn’t looking at her, though his eyes were open. She had seen that look before, and knew beyond a doubt that Jarod was looking at death.
“Mrs. Russell?” Parker looked up worriedly, at the white-coated doctor who had just walked into the room. Her face held hope, hope that there was some slim chance. And also grief- she knew within that it was too late. “I’m truly sorry to tell you this, but your husband is dead.”
“Oh, god, no...” Was the only thing to escape her mouth. Thoughts of poisoned food, the Centre’s revenge, all flooding into her mind.
“Did your husband have any allergies?”
“Pistachios.” She replied, distantly, as if it had been the last thing on her mind. The reply also had a note of dumbness to it, for she didn’t understand what the doctor was trying to say.
“Ma’am, your husband died of anaphylactic shock. We found traces of pistachio in his system- he was apparently eating something containing the nut only moments before his death.” The doctor paused, and Parker looked down at the floor, biting back sobs and blinking back stinging tears.
“Is there anyone you’d like to contact, call? Any family?”
“No...” She shook her head. “Wait. Yes. My brother. My brother and a friend of Jarod’s.”
“Do you have their names and numbers? I’ll have a nurse call, unless you’d rather do it.” The doctor pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.
“Lyle Parker, 205-555-8620. And Dr. Sydney Green, 355-555-5763.”
“Very well. Can I get you some coffee? Anything to drink or eat?”
“Coffee...” Parker nodded, mouth dry and system going into shock. She was no longer fighting tears, for they were no longer coming. It was as if the reality had quickly faded, leaving an amazed shell who watched all in speechless silence.
“Coffee it is, then.” The doctor walked to the door to leave the room, and Parker stood.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Bose. Dr. Andrew Bose. Most just call me Dr. Andy, though.” Parker wordlessly gave an affirmative shake of her head, and watched him leave the room. She sat back down, and waited.
