Tenderly the two beside the bed reached for the sheet and together they covered the whole body.
Ada watched in amazement. Brother and sister! They had not seen each other since girl and boy days. Now they were crying in each other's arms.
Ada wished they would stop crying. Their crying made her feel guilty. As though she were the cause of their unhappiness. Was she softening toward Howard? She knew he was there before she left her body. Even then, in her semi-coma, she had resented his presence. How did he know? How did she sense his presence and know him? This tall, good looking man with more grey than black in his hair did not resemble the boy she had tried to forget. This well groomed man with the expensive clothes and the charm of Ben, his father, but without the marks of dissipation.
The old bitterness flared. Why had Howard come, after a lifetime of neglect? He'd soon know she left nothing. Anyhow, she would have left him nothing. She wished there were something for Ellie and her boys—and Ted. If just a few keepsakes. But there was nothing—nothing.
Ada looked at the body under the sheet. It was not as old as some, in years. Hard work rather than age had broken it down so that now it was bent and wrinkled. Why, she could see clear through it! There was the deformed hip bone! The one that had not been properly set after Ben threw her down the stairs in one of his drunken rages. She was quite young when that happened and all the rest of her life she walked with a limp.
"Never again, Ada," Ben sobbed. "Never again will I take a drink."
She knew then that he was too weak-willed to keep the promise. She also knew that she would always love him.
The babies had come too close. Howard. Several that she could not carry to the full. Two still-born. Then Ellie. The twins, both dying after a few weeks of sickly life. Doctor bills. Short rations. Ben, so abusive when out of work and drinking. Ben, so sweet when working and sober. Ben, who died in a charity ward many years ago.
It was before Ben died that Howard ran away from home.
"It's your fault, Ada," Ben accused when he sobered. "You took the money he earned with his paper route."