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Show 20-6 deep breath and rubbed his hands on his knees. "Anyway, we're a hospital for the physically wounded. As long as Eric was on the mend, we kept him, close to his family. But now ..." He shook his head. "So, he's gone. And your mother is very upset." "You said he was getting better." "Annie, we know so little about any of this. I, we all, thought he was. He was reacting normally, enjoying things, taking notice of things. He practiced the piano every day. That's why Katherine went out to be with him. But, it didn't work out." I reached out and rubbed the cover of my book. "I called Ruth and she's coming over. Your mother can talk to her, better than she can to me about this." Father got up suddenly and walked to the back door. "I'm not the one to . . ." "Will he get better?" Father hadn't heard or was taking a long time to consider his answer. I waited. Finally he turned around to look at me. "Probably not. I don't know." I could hear the water dripping from the icebox into the pan below. A car passed on the street outside. The house around us was silent. Father walked to the table and stopped, his hands resting lightly on it. "Let your mother rest. Call me at the hospital if you need me. I'd stay but . . . I can't." He rubbed the table top. I looked up at him and he smiled. "We had a good night with Andrew, didn't we?" I nodded. "Thank you for letting him ride the motorcycle." "I hope he can do it again. He's so strong. Inside. That tough will of his won't ever break." He stopped and looked down at his hands. "Well, I've got to get back. Take care of your mother. Ruth should be here any minute. Tell her I couldn't stay." |