Chapter 75: The Don

November, 1985, Cincinnati, Ohio

It was just after 6:00pm when I arrived in the parking lot of The Christ Hospital in Cincinnati. I'd taken only enough time to pack an overnight bag, call the Spencers to let them know I'd be coming, and let Julia and Dave know I was leaving. Kara was in class and Jess was at the hospital, so I couldn't let them know. I had driven through Wendy's in Lebanon, Indiana for food, and ate while I drove to save time.

I asked directions at the desk in the main lobby and took the elevator to the floor where Don Joseph's room was. When I got off the elevator in Cardiology, I saw Larry, Connie, and most of the other members of the family crowded into a small waiting room.

"He's asking for you," Connie said, her eyes red with tears. "Room 308. Joyce and Grandma are with him."

I walked into the room and saw Joyce and Mrs. Grossi by the bed, each of them holding one of Don Joseph's hands. His face was ashen with red blotches, and he had several IVs and electrical leads attached. A quick look at the heart monitor told me very little, though the trace didn't look at all like Bethany's had. Hers had been very regular, and this one looked quite irregular.

"Don Joseph," I said, leaning down to kiss the back of his hand, something I'd never done, but felt was the right thing to do.

"«Figlio mio»," he whispered. "Come close."

Joyce moved a bit, and I took Don Joseph's hand and held it. I leaned close so I could hear him speak.

"You have been a good friend," he whispered. "Thank you for coming to see me."

"I could do no less for a good friend," I said.

"Sit with me for a time," he said.

I pulled up a chair and sat next to his bed, holding his hand in mine. We didn't speak, but Joyce came over and put her hands on my shoulders. Don Joseph fell asleep, and we were interrupted several times by doctors and nurses checking on him. It was nearly an hour before he woke again.

"My good friend, you must not mourn," he said. "This is the way of all things. I have many children and grandchildren. Promise me that you will be a friend to Anthony, as you have been to me."

"I promise, Don Joseph," I said, struggling to hold back my tears.

He was dying, and he knew it. I was sure that everyone knew it. I wanted to scream 'no' but I knew that this was far beyond my ability to affect in any way.

"Please go now," he said. "Leave me with my wife."

I got up and kissed his forehead. He smiled and gave a slight nod. I took Joyce's hand, and we left the room together.

"How long?" I asked.

"Minute to minute," she said quietly. "I wasn't sure you'd get here in time."

"Is there anything they can do?" I asked.

"No," she said, a tear leaking from her eye. "The damage was too extensive. They were surprised that he came to at all. But you know Grandfather. He wouldn't go before he said 'goodbye' to you."

"God damn it, Joyce!" I said, tears running down my cheeks.

We hugged and held each other for several minutes, crying together. I finally got control of my tears and excused myself to use the payphone. I called Kara to make sure that Julia had told her where I was and then called Jessica. She offered to come to Cincinnati, but I told her for now I'd be OK. I promised to call her if anything changed, knowing what that change would be.

I took a few moments to greet both Don Carlo and Don Antonio, who were sitting together, speaking quietly. They both thanked me for coming and offered their continued friendship.

"Where are you staying?" Joyce asked when I came back to her side.

"I called Trudy Spencer before I left," I said. "I told her I might be there, but I didn't know for sure."

"Come stay at my new place. It's only about five miles from here."

"Sure. Did you talk to Jake?" I asked.

"I did. But he has drill on Tuesday so he really couldn't come. He can get leave when, well, you know."

I sighed, "Yeah, I know. Jess and Kara will come, too. This sucks, Joyce!"

"I know," she replied. "You should to talk to Anthony."

I nodded, and we walked over to where Anthony and Connie were standing.

"Don Anthony," I said, deferentially, despite being two years older than he was.

"Hello, my friend," he said, extending his hand.

We shook hands. He was already assuming his new role, and it was clear that he knew the situation. He wasn't going to ask me to do anything tonight, but it was clear to me that he had something in mind. I'd promised Don Joseph to be Anthony's friend, and that meant that I'd most likely have to do it. Connie went and got coffee for all of us, and Larry walked over and joined us. We talked quietly for a bit, but mostly we waited.

Just before 9:30pm, a burst of activity and an urgent call over the PA heralded the event that we all knew had to come. Joyce sagged against me and I put my arm around her and held her. She turned her face to my chest and cried softly. I steeled myself for what I knew was about to happen. Eight minutes later, the medical staff slowly filed out of room 308. I didn't need to ask what had happened, the looks on their faces gave it away.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My friend, Don Joseph Grossi, had begun a journey into the 'Undiscovered Country'. A journey made by my love, Birgit, seven years previously. A journey that eventually we all would be forced to make. I only hoped that it was a long time before anyone else that I knew made the same journey.

"What do we do, Joyce?" Connie asked when she managed to control her tears.

"Grandfather made sure all his arrangements were in order when he had his first heart attack," Joyce said. "A simple phone call will initiate everything. I just need Grandmother to tell me."

"When will the funeral be, Joyce?" I asked.

"Thursday, I would think," she said.

"OK."

"Are you thinking of going home?"

"It's a tough call," I said. "If I left really early in the morning, I'd get home at noon, but then I'd have to come back late Wednesday or early Thursday. That would be twelve hours of driving. Maybe I'll go to Indianapolis and see Jess."

"Stay tonight and think about it in the morning," Joyce offered.

I took her a few steps aside to talk to her privately.

"Staying tonight is pretty much a given. I'll come home with you, but you know my situation. I have absolutely no wiggle room. The leash is so short that there's no leash."

Joyce smiled, "We're on the same page, Steve. Jake and I are serious enough that as much as I would love to have you in my bed, I can't break your rule, either."

I hugged her, and we went back to wait for her Grandmother to come out of the room. That happened about ten minutes later, and Joyce, Connie, Larry, Alicia, Larry's mom, and Doctor Grossi, and the rest of the family all went to console their mother. What struck me was the limited emotion of the whole family. There was no wailing or loud weeping, just silent tears from the women and stoic faces from the men.

I stood with Anthony, Don Antonio, and Don Carlo, to wait to pay our respects to Mrs. Grossi. She came to us about five minutes later, on the arm of her son, the veterinarian.

"Thank you all for being here. Joe loved you all," she said. "Joyce will handle all the arrangements. Now I need to go home and sleep."

"Don Carlo, Anthony, and I will stay with Joe until they come to get him," Don Antonio said.

"Thank you," Mrs. Grossi said.

She was escorted away by her son and his wife, and others started slowly filing out. We followed them out of the hospital. In the parking lot, Joyce gave me directions to her apartment, and we got into our cars. Just over ten minutes later, we were walking into her apartment. Surprisingly, it was decorated in an 'old world' style — heavy woods and colorful fabrics. I shook off the surprise because it hit me that it was nearly identical to the decor of Don Joseph's house.

"Call your fiancées and then I'll call Jake," she said, kicking off her shoes.

I went to the phone hanging on the kitchen wall and dialed the main house number. Sofia answered and asked how things were. I told her, and she expressed sympathy, and then went to get Kara. I let her know that the Don had passed away and that most likely the funeral would be on Thursday.

"I'll come for that. Do you need me to come tomorrow?"

"I was thinking of going to see Jess. I'm going to call her next. Maybe you can drive down to Indianapolis on Wednesday evening, and then the three of us can come here. I'll need my black suit and the maroon tie — the non-flashy one. Also one of the tailored white shirts, cuff links, my wing-tips, and black socks."

"OK. I've made a note. Call me when you're sure. Where are you staying?"

"Joyce's apartment. And yes, I remember what Jessica said!"

"Good. This isn't the time to be foolish, Snuggle Bear."

"I know. Joyce told me that she and Jake are serious. I need to call Jess and let her know. I'll call you tomorrow from her place."

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I know how much he meant to you."

"Thanks, Honey. Sleep well."

We exchanged our pledges of love and said our goodbyes, and then hung up. I dialed Jess' number.

"Hey, Babe," I sighed.

"He passed?" she asked.

"Yeah. I was thinking of coming to stay with you for a couple of days until the funeral. Most likely it's going to be on Thursday. Can you get the day off?"

"Yes. I'll talk to my professors in the morning. When do you think you'll be here?"

"Maybe 10:30am. I want to get a good night's sleep. I'm staying at Joyce's apartment so that I don't have to drive all the way to Milford."

"OK. I'll leave a key for the apartment in the administrator's office at the hospital. It's right next to Doctor Barton's. I won't see you until late in the afternoon."

"OK."

"Are you doing OK?" she asked.

"For now," I said.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Babe," I said.

We, too, exchanged pledges of love, and said our goodbyes. I hung up and Joyce picked up the phone to call Jake. They spoke for a few minutes and decided that he'd fly down on Wednesday night and fly back on Thursday night, assuming everything went the way Joyce thought it would. I smiled when she told him she loved him and hung up.

Joyce went to a cabinet and took out a familiar-looking bottle. She poured two small glasses and handed me one.

"«Cent'Anni»," she said ruefully.

"«Cent'Anni»," I replied sullenly.

We clinked our glasses and drank a toast of Sambuca to my dear friend, her beloved grandfather.

"He was like a second father to me," I said. "And a dear friend."

She nodded, and I saw her struggling with her emotions. I could tell she was fighting back the tears that eventually had to come. But she was aware of her responsibility to her grandfather, and to the rest of the family. We finished our glasses and silently went about getting ready for bed. It was a one-bedroom apartment, so Joyce handed me sheets, a blanket and a pillow for the couch. I laid them out and then went to the bathroom to put on my pyjamas. When I was ready for bed, Joyce and I exchanged a long hug, and then she went to her room while I bedded down in the living room. It took me some time to get to sleep, as thoughts of the past nine years flooded my mind.

I woke to Joyce's gentle shaking of my shoulder and I sat up. She sat next to me and I put my arm around her to comfort her.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"I'll call Grandfather's lawyer in a bit. He really did have everything arranged. Once I call him, that's it. Grandfather's priest was there last night, so he's aware."

"That wasn't the hospital chaplain?"

"No. That was Father Bowes from St. John the Baptist. He'll have started the arrangements this morning."

"Everything is running exactly as he planned — in death, just as in life," I sighed.

She smiled and nodded, "Yes. I'll make some breakfast and then make the call."

Joyce made pancakes and set out a large stack for me, along with plenty of butter and maple syrup. She fixed a plate for herself and then poured us each a cup of steaming coffee. When we finished eating, I helped her clean up and then she placed a call to Don Joseph's attorney and set everything in motion.

"Have one more cup of coffee with me before you head out," she said.

I nodded, "What will you do now?"

"Go be with Grandmother. There's going to be a lot to do. You can reach me there on Grandfather's private phone. The wake will be Wednesday evening at the house."

"Then that's when I'll plan to come back. I'll work it out with Kara and Jessica, but I'm sure that we'll be there."

"Good," she replied. "And Steve? Anthony is NOT my grandfather. Be very careful."

"I promised to be Anthony's friend. A promise made to your grandfather on his deathbed. I can't violate that."

"I know. I heard you make it. Just be very careful."

I nodded and drained the last of my coffee, "I will."

We each took a quick shower and dressed, exchanged a brief hug, and then we headed out — me for Indianapolis and Joyce for Don Joseph's house.

November, 1985, Indianapolis, Indiana

"I'm Steve Adams," I said. "My fiancée, Jessica Wilton, left something for me."

The secretary in the administration office took an envelope from her desk and handed it to me. I opened it and saw the key and a short note from Jessica asking me to stop at the grocery store.

"Doctor Barton is in his office and would like you to stop in," the secretary said.

I thanked her and walked next door to Doctor Barton's office and knocked, then opened the door.

"Ah, Steve, come in!" he said, shaking my hand.

"Good morning, Doctor Barton," I said.

"You know, at this point, you can call me Al," he said. "That's what my friends call me."

"Thanks," I said.

"I heard from Jessica that a close friend of yours succumbed to a heart attack?"

"His second, yes. I had a chance to speak to him briefly last night before he died. His granddaughter was convinced that he held on until I could get there to say goodbye."

"It happens," he said. "I've seen that too many times to discount it. Of course, it happens the other way more often than not — someone dies before the relative can come from a great distance. I'm glad you got to speak to him. Jessica said that the funeral is on Thursday?"

"That's right. We'll go to Ohio on Wednesday evening so that we can attend the wake."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but how is Bethany doing?"

"I don't mind at all. Physically, I'd say she's nearly 100%. Her arm still hurts some, but she has her full range of motion back. Emotionally, she's getting better. This last year has been a complete roller coaster ride of emotion."

Doctor Barton nodded, "Trauma can cause all kinds of mental and emotional changes. Don't blame her for what happened between you."

"I'm not. I think I shoulder much, if not most, of the blame. We truly were, as Bethany put it, From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life."

"I'm happy it didn't go quite that far," Doctor Barton said with a wry smile. "Jessica told me that there was some serious history between you and Bethany that just couldn't be overcome, no matter how hard you tried. I guess that worked to Jessica's advantage."