Dusk
"I only thought I saw it." She folds her arms across her chest and watches as he tries to hide the cigarette. "Right, Jed? And move it away from the cushion."
"You know, Sweet Knees--"
Her annoyed sigh and raised eyebrows aren't enough to stop him.
"Most normal people's eyesight deteriorates with age, but yours--"
She takes four steps towards him and holds out her hand. "I'm eternally grateful that only Elizabeth inherited this particular talent of yours."
"You calling my first born a liar?"
"Give it up." He drops the contraband on the verandah and she stubs it out under her heel. "And where's the pack?"
"Stop being a damned doctor and be my wife." He thumps the walking stick on the floor for emphasis.
"I am being your wife, Jackass! And don't think that lung cancer would be any easier than the MS." This fight has been too long in the making and, combined with the on-going fears and stress from the deterioration in his condition, she can't hold herself up any longer.
He wraps her hand in his and it takes everything she has not to flinch. He's losing his grip too quickly.
She stares out at the Manchester dusk, not knowing what to say anymore. Maybe she should just let him do what he wants.
"Is it a sin to pray for a heart attack or stroke when it gets too bad?" His voice is barely a whisper.
She swallows before she can answer. "I don't know if God... But it's normal, Jed."
And she doesn't tell him that's been her silent prayer for too many years.