The Cradle Will Fall Read Free Page B

The old man in
    the room with him kept buzzing for the nurse, but no one came.
    By the time someone finally got there, it was too late. In my nightmare
    I'm in a hospital going from bed to bed, looking for Daddy.
    I keep seeing people I know asleep in the beds. Finally I see a
    nurse and run up to her and ask her where Daddy is. She smiles
    and says, 'Oh, he's dead. All these people are dead. You're going
    to die in here too.'"

     
    "You poor kid."

     
    "Oh, John, I missed him so much. I was always such a daddy's
    girl. All through school I kept thinking what fun it would be if he
    were at the plays and the graduations."

     
    "Kathleen, darling, I'm going to uproot that sadness in you."

     
    "You already have, Judge."

     
    They'd spent their honeymoon traveling through Italy. John's
    pain had begun on that trip. He'd had a checkup a month after
    they got home. The overnight stay at Mount Sinai Hospital
    stretched into three days of additional tests. Then one evening he'd
    been waiting for her at the elevator, a wan smile on his face. He
    said, "We've got trouble, darling."

     
    Back in his room, he'd told her. "It's a malignant tumor. Both
    lungs, apparently."

     
    It seemed incredible. Judge DeMaio, not thirty-eight years old,
    had been condemned to an indeterminate sentence of six months
    to life. For him there would be no parole, no appeal.

     
    Knowing their time was slipping away, they made every minute
    count. But the cancer spread, and the pain got steadily worse. He'd
    go to the hospital for chemotherapy. Her nightmare began again;
    it came regularly.

     
     
    Toward the end, he said, "I'm glad Molly and Bill live nearby.
    They'll look out for you. And you enjoy the children."

     
    They'd both been silent then. Bill Kennedy was an orthopedic
    surgeon. He and Molly lived two towns away in Chapin River and
    had six kids. John had bragged that he and Katie would beat Bill
    and Molly's record. "We'll have seven," he'd declared.

     
    The last time he went in for chemotherapy, he was so weak they
    had him stay overnight. He was talking to her when he slipped into
    a coma. He died that night.

     
    The next week Katie applied to the prosecutor's office for a job
    and was accepted. The office was chronically shorthanded, and
    she always had more cases than she could reasonably handle. It
    was good therapy. There was no time for introspection.

     
    She'd kept the house, although it seemed silly for a young
    woman to own a large home surrounded by five acres.
    "You'll never put your life with John behind you until you sell
    it," Bill had told her. He was probably right.

     
    Now Katie shook herself and got up from the couch. She'd better
    call Molly and tell her about the accident. Maybe Molly would
    come over for lunch and cheer her up. Glancing into the mirror
    over the couch, Katie saw that a bruise under her right eye was
    turning a brilliant purple. Her olive complexion was a sickly yellow.
    Her collar-length dark brown hair, which usually bounced
    full and luxuriant in a natural wave, was matted against her face
    and neck. After she talked to Molly, she'd bathe and change.

     
    Before she could pick up the phone, it began to ring. It was

     
    Richard Carroll, the medical examiner. "Katie, how are you? Just

     
    heard that you were in some kind of accident last night."

     
    "Nothing much. I took a little detour off the road. The trouble

     
    is there was a tree in the way."

     
    "Why the blazes didn't you call me?"

     
    Richard's concern was both flattering and threatening. He and

     
    Molly's husband were good friends. Several times Molly had

     
    pointedly invited Katie and Richard to small dinner parties. But

     
    Katie wasn't looking to get involved, especially with someone she

     
    worked with. "Next time I run into a tree I'll remember," she said.

     
    "You're going to take a couple of days off, aren't you?"

     
     
    "Oh, no. I'm going to see if Molly's free for lunch; then I'll go
    in to the