Sybil at Sixteen

  “Nicky wouldn’t want that,” Sybil said.

  “No,” Meg said. “Nicky isn’t vain about his appearance, but he knows how handsome he is. It makes it easier for me to tell them to go ahead with the transplants, though. If he’d looked unharmed, I don’t know that I could have let them cut him up.”

  “Could you ask them to wait until the others get here?” Sybil asked. “So they can say good-bye?”

  Meg smiled. “I already did,” she said. “You poor thing. You don’t have to take care of everything. I can handle my share.”

  “I know,” Sybil said. “Clark’ll be over any minute.”

  “Then why don’t you see Nicky now,” Meg said. “You’ll feel better once you do, and Clark’ll probably drive you crazy, anyway.”

  “I love you, Megs,” Sybil said. “Are you sure you’ll be all right alone?”

  “I’m not alone,” Meg replied. “Now go. And I love you, Sybil. Nicky does, too. You know that.”

  Sybil nodded. She kissed Meg’s cheek, and then she walked to the room she knew Nick was in. She wondered for a moment if she should wait until Claire got there, to help her through the door, but then she decided Claire was going to go through an agony all her own, and this was one moment she owed to Claire to take care of herself.

  She was glad Meg had warned her about Nick’s appearance. He was cut and bruised. She realized he would have been permanently scarred if he’d survived. She looked at his face, and found the little scar by his eye. A dog bit him there when he was a little boy. She could hardly find the scar, his face was in such bad shape.

  “I guess you can’t hear me,” Sybil said. “Your heart is still beating, but that’s it.”

  She thought she could hear Nick whispering something to her. Was it possible he hadn’t died, that there had been some awful mistake? How would Evvie react if that were true?

  But it was only the machines making their noises. Nick lay absolutely still. He had wires attaching him to the machinery. Sybil remembered the wires and tubes she used to have and how much she’d hated them. She wished she could pull them off Nick, liberate him, but that would come later. For now those wires served a vital function.

  “I told you this morning that I loved you, didn’t I?” Sybil asked. “I know I meant to. I think I did.” She tried hard to remember, but they’d said so much on their walk, it was hard to be sure. She knew Nick had told her he loved her. He’d told her he loved all his daughters. She wondered now why he’d made such a point of it. Had he known he was going to die? How could he have?

  “You’re the best father a girl could ever have,” Sybil said, but that sounded silly. She was glad her sisters weren’t there to hear her. “Well, you’re the most interesting,” she said. No one could argue with that.

  “And I know how much you love me,” she said. “All of us, but me in particular.”

  The machines continued their whirring noise. Sybil wanted Nick to get up and hug her. It occurred to her then that Nick would never embrace her again, or walk with her, or hold her hand. He wouldn’t make confessions to her, either. Maybe he’d told her all he had to confess.

  “You said I had courage,” Sybil said. “I don’t know if I do. I don’t know if I can stand this, Nicky. I don’t think it was fair of you to make me.”

  She felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and she was almost surprised by its wetness. She wiped it away, and forced herself to look at her father.

  “I love you,” she said. “And I’ll do everything you want me to. I’ll make you proud of me. I promise I will.”

  She took Nick’s hand then. It was limp. A deadweight, she realized. It wasn’t until she felt that hand that it truly penetrated that Nick was gone. If there’d been any spark of life left in him, he would have squeezed her hand. Sybil remembered the endless hours Nick had spent by her hospital bed, not saying anything, just holding her hand. His touch was love to her, and now his touch was gone.

  “I’ll do well in school,” she said, trying to remember what it was Nick wanted of her. “And I’ll earn lots of money, and I’ll take care of Megs for the rest of her life, and I’ll make sure that Evvie and Thea and Claire keep loving each other. And I won’t walk with a limp anymore. I’ll get healthy and strong and I’ll run marathons, if that’s what you want.”

  She kissed Nick’s hand, and then she bent over and kissed his cheek. She couldn’t bear to give up his hand, so she sat there holding it, pressing it to her lips, while she wept for her pain, her loss, and her promises.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Look at all the flowers,” Thea said. “Who could have sent them?”

  “I’ll bet Clark did,” Evvie replied. “He probably made up names to go on the cards.”

  “No,” Thea said, checking the cards out. “You’re wrong. These are all from real people. Look, here’s a wreath from Ed and Donna Chambers. Remember them from Briarton?”

  “And here are flowers from the Princeton Alumni Association of Massachusetts,” Sybil said. “And flowers from the rehab staff in Oregon.”

  “And the Harrison Chamber of Commerce,” Evvie said. “It says Nicky was their Man of the Year once. I’d forgotten that.”

  “This is wonderful,” Thea said. “Megs will be so pleased. Who organized it?”

  “I did,” Claire replied. “Day before yesterday. Remember, I said I was going for a walk? Well, I lied. I went to Clark’s and called up every number I could find in Nicky’s address books.”

  “On Clark’s phone bill,” Thea said.

  “I had the calls charged to my New York number,” Claire said. “I hated the thought of Nicky not getting a big turnout for his funeral. So I told them all how we’d just moved to Boston, and he hadn’t had the chance to make friends here, and I let them take it from there.”

  “I have to hand it to you,” Thea said. “This is beautiful, Claire.”

  “I just hope somebody comes to the funeral,” Evvie said. “The flowers’ll outnumber the guests.”

  “I don’t think Nicky would want a big funeral, anyway,” Sybil declared. “He was so private. He’d probably just want Megs and us. Everybody else is extraneous.”

  “Not for Megs, though,” Thea said. “She needs to see other people, to know that Nicky was cared about. Thank you, Claire.”

  Claire smiled. “Do the same for me at my funeral,” she said. “Then we’ll call it even.”

  Clark and Meg came in together. Meg gasped at the sight of all the flowers, then walked up to the girls, and began reading the cards.

  “I see your scheme worked,” Clark said to Claire.

  “They always do,” Claire replied.

  “Thank you for delivering the eulogy,” Evvie said. “It’ll mean a lot to Megs.”

  “I worked on it all last night,” Clark said. “I hope it’s all right.”

  “I’m sure it will be,” Evvie said.

  Claire and Sybil walked toward the seats. “I don’t believe Evvie asked Clark to do the eulogy,” Claire said. “Nicky would hate that.”

  “Why do you think she asked him?” Sybil replied. “It was her last slap.”

  “Oh, well,” Claire said. “If it’s too bad, I can always take a nap.”

  “It still feels so funny,” Sybil said. “I keep expecting Nicky to walk right in, change things around, tell us how to make this funeral perfect.”

  “For the first time this morning, I realized he was dead,” Claire said. “I’m so used to crises and catastrophes, that I’ve been feeling like this was just another one. Megs seems to be holding up all right.”

  “She doesn’t believe it yet,” Sybil replied. “Anymore than I do.”

  Claire put her arm around Sybil. “You’re doing fine,” she declared. “But I still wish you’d taken your cane here.”

  “I promised Nicky I wouldn’t,” Sybil said. “I’ll manage without it.”

  “There’s Scotty,” Claire said. “Good, he’s going over to Thea.”

  “Is that Kip behind hi
m?” Sybil asked.

  “It sure is,” Claire said. “He was one of my phone calls.”

  “And he came from New York?” Sybil said.

  “He asked to,” Claire said. “He even wants to say a few words.”

  “I hope he’s sober,” Sybil said.

  “He is,” Claire replied. “He promised he would be.”

  “Aren’t those friends of Evvie’s?” Sybil asked, as four people in their early twenties came in.

  “I called them, too,” Claire said. “I didn’t care how we got people here, just as long as there were some. If I’d had to, I would have paid for mourners.”

  “And who are they?” Sybil asked as three older couples came in, and walked over to Meg.

  “Friends of Megs’s and Clark’s,” Claire replied. “Clark made those calls. Remember, Megs grew up in this town. She knew lots of people when she was a girl.”

  “And who’s he?” Sybil asked. The handsomest old man she’d ever seen had walked in. Scotty turned around, saw him, and was obviously startled.

  “That’s Sebastian Prescott,” Claire said. “I didn’t think he’d come.”

  “You called him?” Sybil said.

  “He was Nicky’s father,” Claire said. “He had a right to know. Excuse me while I find him a seat. I’m the only one he’s met.” She walked over to him, smiled, and escorted him to a chair. Scotty left Thea and joined his grandfather.

  A few more people came in, and then the minister arrived. Meg had asked Aunt Grace’s minister to conduct the service. There was no one else. Sybil couldn’t remember the last time Nick had been in a church, and the minister’s comforting words about heaven rang hollow.

  Then Clark walked up front, and looking at all the people seated there, smiled. “We’re here today to say farewell to a very special man,” he began. “But we’re also here to celebrate him.”

  Sybil cast a nervous look at Evvie. She’d been quiet ever since she’d arrived in Boston. Not sullen exactly, but she made it obvious she resented being away from Sam at a time when he also needed her. She hadn’t made a scene, though, nor had she expressed any regrets for the things she’d said to Nick the last time they’d talked. She’d been a help to Meg, and to Thea, who’d cried the most and seemed the most alive to the loss. Claire had been cool and organized. Sybil merely felt shell-shocked.

  “I suppose I’ve known Nick Sebastian as long as anybody else in this room,” Clark said. “I met him many many summers ago, when we were young men. He had the nerve to fall in love with Meg Winslow, and she had the courage to fall in love with him. In all the years that I’ve observed them, I never once saw that nerve, or that courage, or that love, falter. Nick and Meg went through some very rough times, but there was a strength and a unity that didn’t merely endure. It triumphed.”

  Sybil saw Evvie take Meg’s hand and squeeze it. Meg managed a smile.

  “Nick and Meg have four beautiful daughters,” Clark continued. “Evvie, Thea, Claire, and Sybil. Nick was as complicated a man as I’ve ever met, but his feelings for his children were pure and simple.”

  This time, it was Claire who smiled. Thea had begun to cry quietly.

  “All fathers love their children,” Clark said. “That’s the easy part, or so I’m told. But Nick had faith in his. Each daughter was very different, but Nick believed that they would each achieve great things. The pleasure he took in every one of their accomplishments was dazzling. I remember when he called me up just to say Claire had taken her first step. She was his thirdborn, remember, and by then most daddies are jaded. But for Nick, this was as important a moment as Evvie’s first word.”

  Sybil remembered Evvie’s last words to Nick, and swallowed hard. She’d made two vows for that day, that she’d get through without a cane, and that she wouldn’t collapse into tears. Nick expected her to be brave, and she would be.

  “Of course we all remember the terrible accident a few years ago,” Clark said. “Sybil was hit by a car at Thanksgiving. I was there, visiting the Sebastians, when it happened. I saw the devastation that Nick felt, and I also saw his determination that Sybil would walk again. Everything for Nick changed that day, and yet I don’t think he would have called any of it a sacrifice. For Nick, Meg and his daughters were his life. Without them, he was nothing.”

  Sybil noticed that only she and Evvie weren’t crying. She looked behind her, to see what effect Clark’s eulogy was having on Sebastian Prescott, but she found she couldn’t look at him too carefully. He looked so much like Nick. It seemed wrong that he was still alive.

  “I said I’d known Nick Sebastian as long as anyone else here,” Clark said. “But of course, I never really knew him. Meg did, and perhaps his daughters, but no one else was really allowed to know him. I confronted him once, when we were both young men, and he declared that he had created himself, and in many ways that was true. He was endlessly contradictory. I’ve never known a more handsome, self-assured man, yet I cannot remember ever seeing him look in a mirror. In his years with Meg, he was happy, but his smiles were so rare, they seemed like precious gifts. He dazzled people, but in many ways, he was more substantial, more down-to-earth, than most other men.”

  I will not cry, Sybil thought. I will not believe this is happening.

  “I suppose my favorite image of Nick will always be the time I found him diapering Thea,” Clark said. “Evvie was three, and Meg was pregnant with Claire. I don’t recall what city they were living in then, or what the occasion was for my visit. But Nick was standing at the changing table, with Evvie clamoring for his attention, and Meg complaining about the lack of really fine evening gowns for pregnant women, and Nick was smiling that rare beautiful smile of his, cleaning and wiping Thea and changing her diaper, and all that time he was wearing his tuxedo. I envied him that day, and I was right to. Nick Sebastian led an enviable life. Thank you.”

  Then Kip got up and walked to the front. “My name is Paul Dozier,” he said. “I’m a friend of Thea’s. I wanted to come here when I heard about Nick because of something he did for me.”

  Sybil noticed Thea tilting her head. Even Evvie looked interested.

  “My mother died a year ago,” Kip said. “I told Thea. It was a bad time for me. Well, I suppose it always is when your mother dies. But I had a complicated relationship with mine, and I hadn’t seen her in a while. Thea told her parents. They were living in Oregon then. Nick called me, and asked what he could do to help. I didn’t know him real well. We’d met back in Briarton. I’d had dinner with them a couple of times, and I’d liked him. He said we had a lot in common, and that made me feel better about myself, because times were pretty awful then, and I could see he was happy. It made me feel that things might work out for me, too. But he didn’t have to make that call, and he didn’t say anything polite and meaningless like, ‘Let me know if I can be of any assistance.’ He asked me what he could do, and I told him I was having trouble tracking down my sister, who was living in California. Nick found her for me. I still don’t know how. He paid for her airfare, and mine, so we could have some kind of funeral. I don’t know how he managed that, either, since money was tight for them then. But what I’ll always remember is he sent flowers. I know that may sound like nothing to you, and there are lots of flowers here, but the flowers Nick sent were the only ones my mother got. And there was a note with them about how brave my mother had been and how much he’d admired her during my sister Gina’s illness. I still have that note. I keep it in my wallet.”

  Kip took a deep breath. “That’s all,” he said. “I just wanted to be here because people might not have known what a kind man Nick Sebastian was, and I knew, and I thought I should tell you.” He walked back to his chair and sat down.

  The minister recited a psalm or two then, and led them through a prayer. Sybil was glad for the meaningless words. She couldn’t bear to concentrate on all Clark and Kip had said. The only way to get through it was not to think about the real Nick. Ritual prayer that had nothing to do with
him was a help.

  There was to be no burial, since Meg had decided on cremation, so the crowd lingered in the funeral parlor after the service ended. Sybil shook hands with lots of people she didn’t know. She even kissed a few of them. She stood next to Claire, and felt unsure which one of them was protecting the other. Claire had cried, after all, and she hadn’t. As far as Sybil could see, that was her biggest accomplishment in years, not crying at her father’s funeral.

  Sebastian Prescott walked up to Meg, with Scotty by his side. “We’ve never met,” he said. “I’m Sebastian Prescott.”

  Meg smiled at him. “I assumed that,” she said. “You look so much like Schyler.”

  “I only met your husband once,” Mr. Prescott said. “Many years ago. And now I find I regret not knowing him. I wish I had … I wish for so many different things. I feel the loss.”

  “Thank you,” Meg said. “That would have meant a lot to Nicky.”

  “Please let me know if I can do anything,” Mr. Prescott said. “Can I be of any financial assistance?”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Meg said. “Nicky was a great believer in life insurance. We’re well provided for.”

  “Then in some other way,” Mr. Prescott said. “Could I see your family sometime? The only one of your daughters I really know is Claire.”

  “That’s up to them,” Meg said. “We’ll talk about it together.”

  “Thank you,” the old man said. “Come, Prescott. Drive me back to your home.”

  “What was he talking about?” Thea asked. “Why should he care about us?”

  Evvie laughed, and for the first time in weeks, she sounded like herself. “That’s a long story,” she said. “But I guess you’ll hear it soon enough.”

  Other people came by, including Kip, murmuring kind words and offering to do things. Meg smiled at all of them. Sybil wished the ordeal would end. Her legs were aching, and she knew she’d have to sit down soon.

  “I’m taking Sybil home,” Claire said, sensing Sybil’s need. “We’ll meet you there.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Evvie said. “Clark, can you take care of Megs and Thea?”