The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters), Sheehan-Miles, Charles [reading an ebook .txt] 📗

I had the feeling those two were going to see each other again.

She isn’t walking yet, and likely won’t be for a good long while. Months maybe. But she kept her promise. She rolls around the condo in her wheelchair muttering obscenities, but she’s been taking care of Carrie. I guess I’ll owe Sarah forever. I still don’t know if there’s a God or anything, but if there is, I plan to put in a good word for her.

Dylan and Alex stayed in town for two weeks. But fall was coming, and they had to get back to New York for classes, and so they went, with Carrie’s urging. I almost had the feeling she was trying to get rid of them. It’s good to have help for grief, but maybe not too much help. And having eight or nine people counted as way too much. So off they went. Julia and Crank headed out a couple days later. Their European tour had been cancelled, so they flew home to Boston. And then Jessica and Ambassador Thompson left so she could be back in San Francisco to start her senior year in high school.

So, in the end, Carrie was left in the condominium with Sarah and her mother.

At three months, she was starting to show. Carrie waited almost three weeks before she went back to work. They didn’t give her any trouble over that. I’d have fucking haunted Moore until his brains melted out of his head if they had. But in the end, none of that was necessary.

I was waiting for one thing. Because some days it was agony to stick around, to be honest. I don’t know if this is how it’s supposed to work. Somehow I don’t think so, or I’d be hanging out at the ghost social club or something. Except for Sarah and Daniel, I never saw another wandering soul out here. Maybe I was just too stubborn to go on.

Whatever the case, I watched every day. I hung around the apartment, trying to keep from touching or startling anyone, and I watched. Because Carrie was a mess, and I wanted her to be okay.

It’s not that she moped around the house. That’s not who she is. Carrie got up and got her ass to work. She got into academic arguments with the other scientists at work (who, by the way, are all dweebs if you ask me), and faced down Moore twice in meetings where he tried to cut her down. But what I never saw was a smile.

Stephanie Hicks came by the condo three or four times. That girl is falling apart, blaming herself for my death, and for her husband’s. And the crazy thing is, Carrie’s back up to her usual stuff, taking care of other people. But something’s different now. She’s taking care of herself too. And I’m glad to see that.

This morning, Sarah blurted out, “I’ve got to get out of this condo, I’m going batshit.”

Adelina looked at her and said, “Young lady, watch your language.”

And Carrie said, “Well, why don’t we go out somewhere? The zoo?”

Then her face froze. And she realized what she’d said. She looked at Sarah, and Sarah looked at her, and they both nodded.

So here I am, following them as they troop around the National Zoo. Sarah’s got one of those high-speed whiz bang wheelchairs, so she’s not having any problems getting around in it. The other day she actually took a couple of steps, screaming words her mother did not want to hear the whole time.

They look tired by the time they get to the Panda enclosure, and I know I am. It’s harder to stay ... in one piece ... when the sun is out and I’m outside. I can feel it, pulling at me, and I know that it’s time to go. But I’m doing my best.

And that’s when it happens. The thing I’ve been waiting for.

A little girl runs by. She’s wearing a blue dress, and has ribbons in her hair. Carrie’s eyes follow her. Very small, almost unnoticeable unless you were a Carrie-ologist like I am. She gives a very faint smile, then laughs as the little girl slams into her mother’s legs and wraps her arms around them.

I close my eyes and breathe in the sunshine. It isn’t going to be easy. It isn’t going to be perfect. Life isn’t that way. But I know she’s going to make it. I know Daniel is going to make it. I know I made the right choice, no matter how much it hurt.

She smiled ... it will all be okay.

So, I turn toward her. And I wave and blow her a kiss. And then I turn and walk, down the hill away from the panda enclosure, away from the life I’d once hoped I’d have but didn’t get a chance, and towards ... what? Something new, I guess.

I feel the sunshine pouring down on me, and I close my eyes and say my last words.

I love you, Carrie.

THE END

Author’s Note

MRSA, an antibiotic resistant bacteria, is a serious health threat. The research Carrie conducted in this book regarding it was complete fiction. The latest research indicates that along with hospitals, the biggest source of community acquired MRSA is domestic livestock, particular livestock that is routinely fed antibiotics.

The procedures for court-martials are described roughly as they are in the Manual for Courts Martial. However, it’s highly unlikely a court-martial would ever swear in a spouse to represent an incapacitated defendant.

Readers who are sticklers for detail will notice a few inconsistencies between The Last Hour and the other books in the Thompson Sisters series. I can’t apologize for that. Each book is intended as a stand-alone novel, and so my focus is on the story at hand.

Acknowledgements

I had a tremendous amount of help with this book.

Thank you, first of all, to Andrea Randall, who read and commented on each chapter as I wrote it, often within minutes of me