~S/he was lying in the bed, gasping. His doctor and his manservant were nearby. They had not expected him to survive the night. Now that it was morning, Charles had no desire to go before he had breakfast.
“Wherr ma bacon ‘n eggs?” he said quietly. He was drowning, it seems. At least, that is how the doctor explained it. Not the most comfortable, or dignified way to go.
“Mr Charles, you know you should not be having such unhealthy fo—”
“Why, pray tell?” Charles said with a laugh that sparked off a burst of coughing. Once he had recovered, he finished, “It isn’t like it will kill me any sooner!”
“We just don’t want you rushing it either, Sir,” his manservant said.
“Abrahm, it is coming whether you or I are ready. And I have been ready for a long time. I miss my wife Margaret, and I hope to finally get to see my daughter as she would have been grown up. Now please send Marianne up and leave me some quiet?”
The two left to get the cook, with Abrahm giving his boss a questioning look.
Shortly after, Marianne stepped into the bedroom. It was strange that she had been called to his bedside. The manservant Abrahm took care of the upkeep in there. “You asked to see me, Mr. Charles?”
“Yes I did, and thank you for coming up,” he replied. That made her pause, he may have mellowed over the years, but thanking her was not something he had ever done before. “No matter what the doctor says, I want bacon and eggs for breakfast. It is harder to get through the days, and I would like to enjoy the few meals I have left”
“Now Mr. Charles, you should not talk like that. No sense making drama of a simple afternoon.” Marianne knew he had a life left that could be counted in hours, but thought he should concentrate on being alive, not whatever happens next.
“Listen girl, I know what is going on. It has been happening to me for longer than it has been affecting you. Just cook the breakfast I asked for. Also, I want my mom’s chicken and fennel soup again for dinner. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes Mr. Charles. Will that be all, sir?” She had started to tear up. She didn’t know a life without Mr. Charles in it. She wasn’t even sure if she knew what to do with her life when he was gone.
“Just one more thing…”
June let go of the bed post, her breathing less of a struggle. She felt like she was in that bed, dying. She shuddered, hoping that she would forget that feeling until it came for her personally. She carefully slipped out of the master bedroom and closed the door. Turning to hear the sounds of foot falls coming up the stairs, she saw Mr. Devlin cresting the staircase. She turned to look at one of the portraits on the wall, “Is that the owner?”
“He was an owner, but not the one who hired us. That gentleman has been gone for quite some time, now.” He looked at June, “Is everything ok? You look like you have seen a ghost?”
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