Melodies in the Key of Life

Die a Happy Man

Tom feathered a kiss onto Lauren’s forehead. He tapped the alarm so she could sleep in, before wandering to the kitchen to make breakfast. He would bring her to a sweet awakening with the smell of coffee and bacon, rather than the incessant buzz of the alarm clock.
Tom stretched the aches out of his bones that weather like this caused. Those clouds looked angry, rolling across the sky on strong winds. He did not like days like this. It made his old joints hurt. He smiled as Lauren embraced him from behind. “That smells good.”
“Thanks, you want some.” Tom like the watched Lauren’s chest rise and fall in quick expectant breathes. He slowed down pouring her coffee so that he could watch her eyes light up in eager anticipation. “You are easy to please.”
Her riotous curls bobbed in rhythm with her assent. The years had dulled her golden locks, but not the easy bounce she could tease out of the curls with her fingers.
“Lauren, do you know I love you?”
“Eh-hm. You still have to go to work. You’re not retired yet. Scoot. Be off with you.”
“Okay. Just give me a few to get changed.”

****
Tom jerked his head to listen more intently to the police scanner.

“The individual I have on the phone is continuing to hear what he believes to be gun shots. 16 hundred block of St. Anthony. Graystone apartment building."
"The shooting appears to have stopped."
"Stage up the SWAT at St. Anthony and Royce and go from there."

With keys in hand, Thomas addressed the only customer in his store, “Ma’am, it’s safer in here than out there. Go back there.” Tom’s heart was pounding from the exertion of getting his store locked down and fear from what the continuing dispatch transmissions from his scanner.

"A caller reports seeing two shadows running down Royce into the residential section."
"Yeah, we got 'em. Their coming at me."
"You'll need ambulances?"
"Yeah, have them roll. We still have a shooter in the area."
"Troop 8 personnel, take Exit 10, left on Dayle. Make sure you have your vests on."
"Roger that. We have injured, numerous gunshot wounds."
“A woman at the convenience store reports four shots fired.”
“10-4. Four ambulances responding.”
"Convenience store is secure. Three suspects and one civilian down.”
“Roger that. Hold your position."

****

“Hello, old man.” Lauren cooed as she swiped the wisp of gray hair from Tom’s forehead.
Tom winced. Every movement tore through him, leaving a wake of searing pain. “We had a good run didn’t we, old woman?”
“You hush up. You took out three of ‘em protecting that woman and her baby. You aren’t going anywhere just yet. Not with that much hootzpah.”
“You’re a good woman, Wife. We had a good run. I can die a happy man.” His words sounded weak and tight. He did not have the strength to hold his innards in place while he talked.
“Quit talking if it hurts you too much.” Sometimes she could hold off the tears when she gave herself a job to do. “Is that more comfortable?”
“Don’t cry.”
“Just hush up. I can cry if I want to. Just save your strength to heal. You hear me.” Each command was given with a gentle tug to adjust the bedding or the equipment he was hooked up to.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lauren watched her husband of forty years drift into more cycles where he would sleep a lot and wake a little. It would take time, but he would heal. Not completely, but he would live. And that’s all she cared about at that moment. He was too ornery to give in. She would make sure that he kept caring and kept fighting for his life.