A few weeks went by. Felicity, Hope and Ruthie were handling their pregnancies quite nicely, and they kept getting complimented on how beautiful they were. One day, the news finally came that Harry had died. Patrick was enthused, and he and his family opened up a bottle of champagne to celebrate - even eight year old Emily, taking just a few sips, was thankful her grandfather was dead.
Hope was much more circumspect when it came to her father's death. At supper that night with the rest of the Camden family - Ruthie, Peter, Felicity, James, Heather, Rita and the babies - a moment of silence was observed. As the meal was passed around, however, Hope resolved she would not go to her father's funeral.
As for Rod and Shelby, they and their daughters had a bit of Schadenfreude of their own, but then reminded themselves that as faulty and evil Harry was, he was still a human being and that one should pray for the repose of his soul. This they did.
On Friday, the women had a dinner out to discuss some of the upcoming sermons, as well as the social groups for single women and young mothers. The women were preparing to part company in the parking lot when Ruthie asked Tamara if she could speak to her.
"How about we talk in my car, Ruthie?" Tamara suggested. "That way we can have some privacy."
The other women wished them good night and drove away.
As soon as they got into Tamara's car, Ruthie opened her mouth, then closed it.
"Something wrong, sister?" asked Tamara.
"I can't believe it's actually all over, Tammy," said Ruthie. "All the intelligence stuff, the stolen money, the greedy and / or racist televangelists, all the time worrying about our children's safety while having even more. With Harry's death and the case against him being ruled moot, it's over!" She gave Tamara a hug.
"So... what do we do with all the intelligence we've learned?"
"We all have to keep it a secret. The adults as well as the children. We can never tell anyone, we can't even discuss it with each other anymore. And when our babies grow up, they can never find out the truth either."
"We actually saved the world," said Tamara, "and no one will ever know? Now I know what Shelby and Rod had to live with all these years!" She laughed, then said, "Okay, Patrick and our kids and I promise: Mum's the word."
"Thank you." Ruthie then continued, "But that now means we can focus entirely on the children and our church. And the children...well, I can't help but worry about them."
"Ruthie, we're mothers. What do you expect?"
"Tammy, James and Heather were into porn when they were seven years old. Watching it behind Peter's and my backs. They are now into very serious relationships with Maighread and Chester. And Rita and Rhiannon are all over each other." Ruthie paused.
Tamara understood. "You're worried our children are going to have sex. You and I know they're too young for that. They know that. There's nothing to worry about."
"When was the first time you had sex?"
"It was with my first husband, Don, when we were ... twenty-one, and in our junior year at college. It was his first time too. Mind you, we'd been dating from high school, together for about seven years. So ..." Tamara paused. "... it just came naturally."
"Well, as you know," Ruthie said, "Peter and I first had sex when we were fifteen. We still have no regrets, but if we had to do it again we would have waited until we were seventeen or eighteen. It really was too early. Mom caught us in the act, well indirectly because she found a used condom in my bedroom, and although she didn't break us up she made it clear she was very disappointed in me as well as Peter. I...don't want to feel the same way about my children because they did something rash."
"Ruthie, they made us a promise they were going to wait until their bodies were more mature and better able to understand the consequences. But besides that, the girls are all on the Pill. I made sure Kaitlyn got on the Pill when I found out she started having sex last year. When Emily gets her period, she goes on it as well. And the guys ... well, they know how to use a condom. We've got the best and worst case scenarios covered."
"You know the stats, Tammy. Eighty percent of kids have had some kind of a sexual experience by the time they're thirteen. It doesn't have to be intercourse. Most have oral sex, and they do that because they think it's 'safe' when you and I both know it's not. Look, your and my and Shelby's children have all lucked out in that they have suitable partners. But I can't help but worry there's going to be an 'accident.'"
"Ruthie, I'm telling you, when it's truly right for them, only then they'll do it." Tamara said reassuringly. "No, I don't think they can wait till they're all sixteen. My guess is when, in each couple, at least one of them is fourteen. But when they do, it'll be right for them, they'll be careful, and they'll do it because they truly love each other - just like it was when you and Peter made love. I'm not worried about that. Neither should you. But if it makes you feel better, when I get home I'll talk to Shelby and tell her what we discussed, so she and Rod can reinforce it with their daughters, too."
"Okay," said Ruthie. "But there is this other thing. It's actually a lot more serious. It involves my Dad."
"Man," Tamara said, "his heart has been causing him so much trouble the last fifteen-some years. I'm surprised he doesn't qualify for a transplant."
"It's not that. I think it's something a lot worse."
"What?"
"I don't know. But while Felicity and I were doing the dishes last night, she let me know that she had a weird phone conversation with Sarah."
"Matt's wife?" Tamara's eyebrows raised up a little. "What was the talk about?"
"Sarah said, according to Felicity," replied Ruthie, "that someone she knew - she didn't say patient, just someone she knew - had a terminal illness and wanted an assisted suicide. Sarah told Felicity it went against her religious beliefs as a Jew, and she wanted an evangelical's point of view, in particular that of a reputable televangelist like...well, Felicity."
"What did Felicity say?"
"I was shocked when she told me. She said it also went against her personal convictions...but if she had a disease so morbid, one that caused so much suffering, that it made life not worth living, she'd ask for a lethal injection herself."
"So?"
"Felicity told me that after the phone call ended, she was wracking her brains as to who it could be. It was only yesterday morning that it occurred to her. Who else could Sarah be talking about except...my own Dad? She told me because she feels guilty she may have set a chain of events that would be impossible to reverse!"
Ruthie couldn't bear it anymore. She started crying uncontrollably.
"I can't lose my father life this, Tammy, I can't!" she said through her tears. "I want him to live as long as he can. I don't want him to give up!"
Tammy reached for the back seat and retrieved a box of tissues.
"Take as many as you need, honey," she said.
It took nearly five minutes for Ruthie to stop openly crying, although she was still shedding a torrent of tears.
"It's not just this," she said. "I'm angry at Dad for not telling me and my sibs. I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't told Mom either. Why would he keep this a secret from us? And worse, why would he drag Sarah into this?"
"Wait...you think Sarah actually agreed to Eric's request?" Tammy was horrified.
"Why would she call Felicity, unless she wanted validation for something she was against? Hank won't do it. Doctor Peterson won't do it. His heart specialist won't do it."
"Please don't kill me for saying this, Ruthie...but maybe, from Sarah's perspective, she sees it as an act of love. Helping someone she loves, her father-in-law, out of his misery."
"I love Sarah as much as my siblings," Ruthie said, "but if she truly loves Dad, she won't do it. She'll get another doctor to do it, anonymously."
"So why are you telling me all of this?" asked Tamara.
"Tammy, my family - my whole family - can't talk to Dad about this. Not even Felicity or Hope. Neither can Shelby and Rod, because they were both helped by my old family back in Glen Oak. You and Patrick are the only ones who haven't been directly or indirectly touched by Mom and Dad. You're able to approach this from an outsider's perspective."
"Wait...you want me to talk him out of this?"
Ruthie's tears finally stopped. She nodded.
"That's ... that's a huge load to take on. I wouldn't even know where to begin," said Tamara.
"Start with all the reasons why assisted suicide is wrong." said Ruthie. "Then make it personal. Bring home his family and all the people who's lives he's touched, how much he means to his community."
"Look, honey..." Tamara paused. Then she said, "I can't make any promises. I can't even tell you whether or not I'll make the call. Let me think about it a few days, then give you my answer. But know this: Even if I do make the call, I can't guarantee Eric will change his mind. My driving home the points might only make him more resolute."
"Please, Tammy, try anything," said Ruthie.
Tammy was silent for a minute. Then a thought crossed her mind.
"What?" asked Ruthie.
"I'll make the call," said Tamara, "I definitely will. I'll let you know what it is when I finish talking to him."
The women hugged. Ruthie then returned to her own car and drove home.
As soon as she returned to her home, Tamara headed to her bedroom. Quickly getting undressed and putting on her oversized nightgown over herself and her still swollen belly where Chip and Dawn had been inside just weeks before, she then picked up her cell phone and called the home of Eric and Lucy. Lucy said her father wasn't home but might be available on his cell. Following these instructions, Tamara then called Eric directly. Voice mail picked up the call.
"Eric, it's Tammy Wilkinson," she said. She knew if he knew the real reason for her call he would never return in. So instead she decided to lie. Keeping in mind it was her turn to deliver the Sunday sermon, she decided to use that as a jumping point - Eric had helped her in the past in that department.
"I...um, need some suggestions for this Sunday's sermon. It's about the rich man and Lazarus. Do you have any ideas? Oh, and there are a couple of other things I'll like to talk to you about. It's Thursday night and pretty late here, so if you can call me any time tomorrow before eleven my time. My cell number is 314-555-2714. Thanks and say hi to Annie. Bye." She couldn't have known Eric and Annie had separated - incredibly, they hadn't told any of their children, including Ruthie.
Tamara hung up the phone as Patrick walked into the bedroom, wearing his pajamas. He kissed her on the lips, gently nibbled her on the earlobes, then kissed her tender breasts then her belly.
"Who was that, darling?" he asked, when he had finished all of this.
"Oh...Eric," Tamara said. "I told him to call back."
"Anything important?" Patrick was standing up again and looking into the eyes of his wife.
"I'll tell you when he gets back to me. It's not really the end of the world."
"Oh...who's putting Chip and Dawn to bed tonight?"
"Kaitlyn and Chester have that taken care of; Emily's making sure the breast pumps are working in case the babies need a late night feeding." Tamara smiled and kissed her husband. "Thank you for giving me the greatest gifts of all...our babies."
"They're as much yours as mine," said Patrick, kissing her again.
Tamara went through her routine the next day at the church office, running through several appointments and approving the lesson plans that the ministers' children had made for Sunday School. Returning home, she managed to get through dinner with her family. She was getting ready to enjoy a live talk show at nine with a notoriously funny comedian when her cell phone rang. She checked the display. It was Eric Camden.
"Not now!" she groaned, but headed to the staircase. Halfway up, and after five rings, she answered the call.
"This is Tamara Wilkinson," she answered, continuing up the staircase, walking into her bedroom and closing the door. "Thanks for returning my call, Eric. We need to talk...really talk."