Pack Up the Moon

by Kristan Higgins

  Yes. She was fairly sure she was dying. Panic flashed, but the nothingness sucked her down again.

  Sleep, wake for a few minutes, sleep, smile, squeeze Josh’s hand, sleep. She dreamed of Hawaii, swimming in the impossibly blue waters off the Nāpali Coast. She was in their honeymoon house and heard the roosters. She dreamed of holding Octavia as a newborn, and woke up to feel the baby snuggled against her, the smell of her head so welcome in the midst of the sharp and sour smells of the hospital. She stroked her niece’s cheek and was asleep again, dreaming of Octavia as a teenager, her hair so dark and beautiful, and Octavia was talking about a dance and what to wear. Sebastian was kissing her cheek and playing with her hand, in real life or in the dream. She felt a tug. Real life, then. She opened her eyes to smile at him and touch his cheek. Her arm felt as heavy as lead.

  She dreamed of him as an adult, driving her to the Cape house, which was different in the dream, but the same. Pebbles was in the back of the car, and Josh was waiting for her on the deck, smiling, wearing that awful Western shirt from the Hope Center reopening. Then she was at Sarah’s wedding and forgot she was maid of honor and was trying to put on makeup as she stood on the altar. Josh washed her face with a warm cloth, and fixed things. These were all the things she’d miss, she realized. The washcloth felt so real.

  She opened her eyes. Josh was washing her face. She smiled at him, oh, God, her chest hurt so much, everything hurt, her head, her skin, her bones, but seeing him felt so good. So . . . safe.

  She smiled and then the darkness pulled her deeper, and it was good, it was easier there, the enveloping blackness.

  She wasn’t getting better. She was getting worse.

  Death sat close by. Dad? Are you here? She fell asleep before she could wait for an answer.

  Awake again. Josh. Jen. Mom. Ben and Sumi. Then sleep.

  The next time she woke, Dr. Bennett was there on one side, Josh on the other, stroking her hand, a blue shirt this time. “Hi, honey,” he said, and she loved his soft, deep voice so much. “We need to . . . talk.” His face spasmed with grief.

  Shit. Her heart thudded painfully. She tried to squeeze his hand, and he squeezed back. Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared. Don’t let him know you’re scared.

  “Lauren? Lauren, hey.” Dr. Bennett took her hand, too, which was totally not encouraging. “We lightened your sedation so we could talk. Can you hear me?”

  Lauren nodded. Dr. Bennett pushed the button on the bed and raised her to more of a sitting position. God. Her chest burned and hurt, jerking with the effort to breathe, fighting the respirator. She tried to let it breathe for her, since she obviously was doing a crap job. She looked at the monitor. O2 sat 70 percent, heart rate 115, blood pressure 185/121. Her head was killing her. She looked at her hands, and the fingernails looked faintly . . . blue.

  Not good. Not good at all.

  Her whole body was so heavy, as if she’d been pumped full of iron.

  Dr. Bennett—Kwana, she’d asked to be called way back when—sat next to her on the bed.

  “Lauren,” Dr. Bennett said, her eyes kind . . . and wet. She gripped Lauren’s other hand. “The news is not good, honey. Your arterial blood gas is morbidly low. The X-rays show your lungs are filled with fluid, and your sats are way down, even with the ventilator.” She waited a beat, making sure Lauren was hearing all this.

  She was, unfortunately. Even though she’d known it was coming, the realization was a physical blow. She couldn’t look at Joshua.

  “You’ve been on antibiotics, but we’re not getting anywhere in clearing the pneumonia. Your lung function is . . . quite low.”

  She nodded. Squeezed Josh’s hand. Her chest was working hard, even with the ventilator in, and it hurt.

  “Your organs are shutting down,” Dr. Bennett said, “and we can’t . . . we’re out of options.”

  Lauren closed her eyes. Out of options.

  This was it. She was dying. Her beautiful, happy life was ending. She’d known it would, but now that it was here . . . shit.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Josh. His mouth trembled. He tried to smile, but his eyes filled. “I . . . I’m so sorry, honey,” he said, and his voice broke. He bent over and pressed his forehead to hers.

  Not yet. Not yet. Oh, please, not yet. She didn’t want to do this to her husband.

  Be brave, honey. Her father’s voice. Oh, thank God, he was here.

  Josh. Oh, Josh. I’m so sorry.

  Tears spilled out of her eyes, and he held the sides of her face, wiping her tears away even as he cried with her. Her heart swelled with sorrow and regret that she was leaving him. The love of her life. The love of her life. She lifted her hand to his hair, relishing the silkiness. Stroked his cheek before her heavy arm dropped back to her side.

  I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.

  “Are you in any pain?” Dr. Bennett asked.

  Lauren nodded. Her chest ached, and a knifelike pain stabbed on every forced inflation. Flashes of light went off in her head like lightning strikes, searing and sharp. Her chest worked, and she could feel her breath crackling. Air hunger. Such an ugly, cruel thing.

  “We’ll get you some morphine. But, Lauren, if we extubate you, the end will come pretty fast,” Dr. Bennett said, and Lauren had to give her credit, because though her eyes were shiny, she wasn’t crying outright. “You’ll have a few hours, maybe less. If we keep you on the ventilator, it’ll be more like a day, maybe three. The choice is yours.”

  Well, shit. She’d give anything for another couple of days . . . but being on the ventilator also meant being unconscious. She could die that way, just slip away, pain-free.

  Joshua deserved more.

  “Your mom, Jen and Darius are in the waiting room,” Josh said. “Sarah’s on her way.”

  She pointed to the tube and mimicked pulling it out. “You want us to extubate you?” Dr. Bennett asked, and Lauren nodded, looking into Joshua’s eyes.

  I’m sorry.

  After a long second, he nodded, too, and then put his hand up to his eyes.

  She reached for him, her arm not quite making it, and he caught it, took her hand, kissed it, his lips staying a long time. She felt his tears drop on her skin. She squeezed back, but she was so weak, she wasn’t sure he felt it.

  Though she tried not to, she fell asleep again, still holding Josh’s hand. Distantly, she was aware of more people in the room, adjusting her, moving things. The tube was pulled from her throat, and she gagged a little, getting another stab with the effort. She could hear herself gasping, her chest working hard—oh, shit, it hurt. She heard a moaning sound. Hers, she assumed.

  Someone was putting something in her hand. “Just press this button when you need more pain control,” a female voice said. She pressed, and a warm wave enveloped her, making her float. Morphine. Ooh. That was nice. Her head pain went away, and her chest didn’t hurt as much, wasn’t jerking so much. Even her breathing was easier, thank God.

  “Atta girl,” the nurse said, and Lauren opened her eyes and smiled.

  Josh was standing right next to her, his face ruined.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice a croak.

  “Hi, honey.”

  “I love you.” It was hard to get the words out.

  “I love you, too. So much.”

  The nurse adjusted her and, with such kindness, brushed her hair and washed her face gently, gave her a sip of water. “Thank you,” Lauren whispered.

  “You’re welcome, honey.” The nurse dropped a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll pray for you both.” She was crying.

  Nurses were the best. “Do I look . . . pretty?” Lauren asked her husband, and she managed a smile. Even her face was tired.

  “Beautiful,” he answered, trying to smile back despite the tears in his eyes. “You . . . do you want me to get everyone?”

&n
bsp; She nodded. “Then get . . . rid of them. Just . . . us.” They’d talked about this . . . Lauren didn’t want her mom and sister to witness the moment of her death. She didn’t want them to hear her last breath.

  “Just us,” he said, and kissed her, his lips so warm and wonderful, then left the room.

  She didn’t want Josh to suffer through this—her final minutes, maybe hours, but she knew he wouldn’t leave her. She wouldn’t leave him, if the case were reversed.

  She took a hit of morphine and closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her family was there—Mom, Jen, Darius, Sarah, Stephanie, the Kims, all their faces a study of grief and fear and love.

  Darius was holding Pebbles in his strong arms. He put the dog on the bed with her and put her hand on the dog’s head. Poor Pebbles. I’m sorry, honey, Lauren thought. Her dog. Her friend through all this. Pebbles’s tail wagged, but she stayed still, as if she knew her job.

  “I love . . . you all,” Lauren said, gasping a little, her voice weird from the days of intubation. “Be . . . happy . . .” She couldn’t finish.

  “She wants you to be happy when you remember her,” Josh said, his voice low and calm, his words exactly right.

  “Be at peace, darling girl,” Ben said, leaning in to hug her. He was crying.

  “Take care . . . of him.”

  “I will. I always have.”

  Lauren nodded and managed a smile. Sumi was next, crying too hard to speak, but she held Lauren’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead.

  “Goodbye, beautiful,” Darius said, hugging her, and she managed to pat his cheek. “I’ll take care of them, don’t worry.” He had such lovely eyes, even when they were streaming tears. He kissed her hand and moved aside for Stephanie.

  “Thank . . . you for . . . raising him,” Lauren said, her words barely a breath. Her mother-in-law kissed her on both cheeks and her forehead.

  “I’m so glad you married my son,” she said, and it was so generous, so kind, that tears spilled out of Lauren’s eyes. “God bless you, angel.”

  Then it was Sarah, next in this awful, beautiful line of her people, her family, her best friend. “You did so good,” Sarah said. “I love you. I’ll miss you so much.” Her face was scrunched with crying.

  “Love . . . you.”

  Sarah hugged her, jerking with sobs, then kissed her cheek, and then it was her mom’s turn.

  Oh, Mommy. Poor Mom.

  Her mother bent over her and held Lauren’s face in her hands. “I love you, baby. I love you. Daddy will be with you. Don’t be scared.” Her voice was surprisingly strong, and Lauren was so glad. She sounded like her old self, before Dad died, the impressive mother who always knew the answers.

  Lauren tried to inhale her familiar mom smell. “Sorry,” she whispered. Sorry to make you lose a child. Sorry to give you more pain. Sorry if I ever disappointed you.

  Her mother’s face contorted. “I’m sorry, too, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  “Love you . . . Mama. Be . . . brave.”

  “You’re my best girl. So strong. I love you, honey.”

  Lauren tried to smile, but the fatigue and pain were pulling at her, even as tears slid down her cheeks. A low moan came out of her without her consent, and she gave herself another hit of morphine, barely able to press the button.

  Then Jen. Oh, Jen. This was the hardest yet. “I love you so much, Lauren,” her sister whispered fiercely, holding her close, and Lauren managed to turn her head and kissed her sister’s cheek twice.

  “Best . . . sister. Best . . . friend. Love you.”

  Jen clutched her hard and let out a horrible wail, and for a second, Lauren couldn’t bear it, she couldn’t stand the pain, and she felt herself slipping away from the unbearable grief.

  Then Josh pulled Jen back. “Don’t let that be the last thing she hears from you, Jen,” he said firmly, and Lauren loved him so much in that moment. His kindness, his strength, his understanding.

  “You’re right,” Jen hiccuped. “Shit! Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” And Lauren couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, no matter how it hurt her chest.

  “Perfect,” said Josh, and somehow, her family laughed.

  “I love you, sissy,” Jen said, her face crumbling. Then, because she was Super Jen, so amazing and strong, she pulled herself together and smiled, bright as the sun. “See you on the other side.”

  Lauren gave her a thumbs-up and smiled back.

  Then Josh showed them to the door.

  Lauren could hear them murmuring, the soft sobs. Her own eyes streamed with tears. She was so loved. She loved them all so much.

  Pebbles was warm against her side, the sweet dog, her fur silky under Lauren’s hand.

  Then Josh was climbing into bed with them and wrapping his arms around her. “You did great, honey. My brave, brave wife.” He felt so good. So much like himself.

  “I . . . love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too. With all my heart. With my all lungs and liver and pancreas.”

  “Kidneys . . .”

  “And kidneys. Both of them.”

  She felt him crying, felt his warm tears sliding against her temple. The breathing was harder now, and she tried to sneak the air in around the scars, the fibers, the fluid. Don’t pant. Don’t fight. Don’t scare him. Die gently. Another hit of morphine so he wouldn’t hear her gasping, feel her body struggling. Help me, Daddy. The urge to struggle passed.

  “I’m so . . . lucky,” she managed, and Josh sobbed then.

  “I love you, Lauren. I love you so much. You’re everything to me. I’m the lucky one.”

  “Beautiful . . . life.” Her chest wasn’t working anymore. “Love . . . you.” One more breath. Just a little more air, please, Dad, for her last words.

  Go for it, baby.

  With what felt like a superhuman effort, Lauren pulled air into her poor battered, exhausted lungs, hearing the squeak and rasp, and willed those last remaining spaces in her lungs to open. She looked at her husband. “Thank . . . you.”

  Because what else was there to say?

  And though his eyes were wet with tears, she saw that flame in the dark, saw all the feelings he had for her, and she truly was so lucky, the luckiest woman on earth, because she had been loved by Joshua Park.

  “It’s okay if you go,” he whispered. “You’ve fought enough. I love you. I’ll always love you, Lauren. Rest now, honey. I’m right here with you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  * * *

  THOUGH HER EYES are closed, Lauren can see the strange, liquid golden light, so warm, so alive. She hears her father’s voice, feels him close to her. She knew he would come. She knew it.

  She can see herself, lying in the bed, Josh holding her close, Pebbles on her other side. Her husband looked so ruined, holding her against him. Her own face, Lauren notes, is white. But she isn’t gasping. She isn’t clawing and scared. She’s . . . quiet. Not quite gone yet, though.

  Her poor body. It had worked so hard. It had done so well. She’s proud of it, grateful to it for putting up with all that it had. So many healthy years, so many happy times, walking, swimming, cuddling, holding, carrying. Images flash through her mind—jumping rope with Sarah as kids. Hiding in Jen’s closet and scaring her. Pushing Sebastian on the swing. Holding Octavia. Swimming in the ocean with Josh. Hugging Josh. Making love with Josh. Laughing with Josh.

  That body deserves to rest now.

  Her new self is strong and warm. There’s no pain, no weight, no fatigue, no chest pain.

  I’ve been so happy, she tells her father. He knows this.

  Everyone should get to die like this, in the arms of the person they loved best. Josh’s love shines out of him. Lauren watches as he pushes her hair back from her face and kisses her lips, and the light in her new self bursts out, filling her, filling t
he room.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  It’s time for her to go now. Her father agrees.

  One more second, one more for Josh. She wills her love into Josh with the last beat of her heart, and then she is ready.

  She sees the knowledge hit Josh. He crumples, laying his head on her chest. Her old body is done, but she’s more here than ever.

  He’ll be all right. She knows this.

  The light grows even brighter, so bright she can’t see Josh anymore, but she feels him inside every molecule of her, the pulse and thrum of his life.

  She is the light now, and though her old body is done, and her old self is gone, her true self would never leave him.

  He was, and is, and always would be, the love of her life.

  36

  Joshua

  Month seventeen

  July

  IT HAD TAKEN some time to get over that final letter. To remember her last day in all its excruciating, beautiful detail.

  In some ways, it was like losing her all over again. But when he reread the letters, when he saw the scope of what she’d done, he was so, so grateful for her kindness, her forethought. She had spent her last months thinking about his life after hers, and how to help him.

  And she had. Because of her, he had Radley as a friend. He had a new job because he’d gone to that conference. He was part of the community, more than he’d ever been. He owned a new house that, someday, would be his children’s home. He knew karate.

  He was so grateful that, for that first year without her, his wife’s love had walked beside him.

  And he was better. He was doing fine. He’d invited all of Lauren’s family to have pizza at his offices one night, and pushed Octavia and Sebastian around in the comfy office chairs, making them shriek with glee. The next week, when Jen had her third baby, he’d visited her and his new baby niece in the hospital, and he didn’t cry. They asked him to be godfather to Leah Grace, and of course he said yes.

  A few weeks ago, he’d flown to Singapore and spent two weeks there, working with the team, attending meetings, going out for dinner. The company put him up in a swanky rental apartment with a balcony overlooking the sparkling city and told him it was his whenever he needed to come out. They showed him the design for an MRI-guided ultrasound device that would ablate tiny particles of brain matter for people with persistent tremors. It had the potential to treat epilepsy with some modifications, too. Within an hour, Josh had tweaked the design so it required two fewer parts and would cost significantly less to produce.