Blue

by Sarah Jayne Carr

  What really hit me was when I realized I was only a few days from touring that expensive college I told you about. My parents, they were so excited someone in the family was finally going to a four-year school. Even if I took time off after high school. And they were willing to pay the tuition. Beanbag sure wasn’t interested in furthering his education. Here’s a secret I didn’t tell anyone—my dad took on a second job outside of the police force to help pay for it. He gave up his spare time doing something he hated. And he did it for me to succeed at something I loved. To me, it was the ultimate sacrifice.

  But my prognosis had been dealt to me like a losing hand of poker. I couldn’t go to school. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d get to go to my upcoming dentist appointment or see the next horror movie release with you at the Cineplex. There was one fact I was certain of: I couldn’t leave my family with the burden this disease would leave them. It wasn’t even an option. The new insurance policy I was covered under, the first one on my own as an adult, wouldn’t pay for what they considered my “pre-existing condition”. I couldn’t bear my parents watching me die a slow, painful death while confined to a sterile hospital bed – almost as if I’d somehow let them down. Discussing a DNR or whether or not to terminate life support, if it came down to it, wasn’t a decision I wanted them to endure.

  I’ve seen people die from cancer as I’ve endured this nightmare.

  I’ve seen the way their bodies starve and deteriorate.

  I’ve seen their skin become translucent, lighting up a map of purple and blue veins.

  I’ve seen their mouths go lax, gaping open as they gasp for precious mouthfuls of air.

  I’ve seen their hair in disheveled disarray when before they’d never allow a lock to be out of place.

  I’ve seen way they become incoherent and confused, like a terrified child unsure of what’s to come.

  I’ve seen them look up at the corner of the room, as if someone is patiently waiting for them to take their last breath and give up the fight.

  I’ve heard them moan, as if they’re a prisoner in their own body, trying desperately to communicate, failing.

  I’ve heard the death rattle when the end is near, a sound I wouldn’t wish on anyone to hear.

  There’s a nervous energy that skitters along your skin when someone you know is about to pass away. You’re helpless, unable to focus as you continue to wait for the exact moment it happens. The deafening silence causes your ears to ring and your mind to race while you’re on high alert.

  I can’t give anyone those memories about me…at my expense. I can’t, Blue.

  Questions flooded my mind constantly. Why me? Why was I chosen to be broken and unfixable? What did I do wrong to deserve this? And then it hit me. I have the capability to fix it! I took the most difficult problem and decided to make it into a simple answer. I’m ripping the bandage off quickly to end it all. No long hospital stays or hospice services equating to astronomical bills. No drawn-out death. Thanks to confidentiality laws, no one knows my situation except for Dr. Ritchie and me—my parents think their daughter is healthy as a horse. And I’m determined for it to stay that way up until the end before I become sick enough for them to figure it out. Now, it’s my turn to make my own ultimate sacrifice. And that gives me a sense of peace.

  It’s sad my future had been snuffed by a single five-minute phone call. I’d never go to college. Never get married. Never have children, grandchildren, or be that creepy old lady with thirty cats we’d joked about. I’d never see what I’d look like with white hair and wrinkles. I’d never get to grow old and reminisce with you about our pasts. My life had veered off the main path with a dead end on the horizon, and someone is stepping on the accelerator. Hard.

  The headaches are worsening by the day now, and it’s taking everything I have to fake normalcy while I eat meals of specifically-measured pills. Periodic episodes of blurred vision and multiple, daily trips to vomit have become my new routine. Anxiety that someone will find out the truth consumes me day and night. I’m so tired. This disease has stolen enough from me, and it’s time I take matters into my own hands. Once and for all.

  There’s something I need you to know though, and if it’s the only piece of information you take away from this letter, I want it to be this: Don’t ever question whether my actions were a reflection of yours. Did you read what I wrote? If you need to take a minute and digest that thought, do it. This letter isn’t going anywhere. Even though I’m not, my words will be waiting for you to return. I’m serious. Don’t ever question whether my actions were a reflection of yours. They weren’t. It was all a matter of poor timing.

  She knew me all too well. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, clenching them shut as giant sobs overtook me. My shoulders heaved. The smothering guilt that overtook me for years, the tremendous weight on my shoulders…she gave me permission to let it all go. Her words were too painful to take in all at once, but I knew I had to continue reading. I owed Madelyn that much.

  I’m not sure if you know this, but Adam came to see me the night after I left your place and saw…you two…well, you know. Anger and betrayal didn’t begin to describe what I felt. But after thinking about it, I realized the hostility was misdirected because of other issues in my life, issues neither he nor you knew about. He was so patient and composed, saying he’d wait until I was ready to talk. It took me two hours to let my stubbornness subside. We had a long chat on the front porch. He’d come to defend you, asking me if I hated anyone…to hate him instead of you. And then with the purest look in his eyes…he told me he was in love with you. I was dumbfounded.

  It all seems so trivial now. I’m sorry I blew up at you that night. Looking back, there was a better way to have gone about it, a more constructive way, but I’ve been so fucking emotional. That was one of my better days—health-wise, and I was so excited to see you. Cancer or not, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry. About so many things. Mostly, I’m sorry our last conversation ever was a string of damaging words.

  What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me about you two? For so many months you kept it quiet? Impressive, my friend. I probably asked Adam a dozen times to tell me why no one knew; I might’ve even resorted to begging at one point. If I learned one thing that night, it’s that Adam Rockwell is loyal as hell to you. P.S. He never budged and told me why your relationship was kept a secret. For that, I’m so curious, but at the same time it makes me admire him even more. You’re in love. Planning on leaving Steele Falls together. It’s like some kind of romantic fairy tale. Oh, how I wish you would’ve trusted me with that information. Would I have been a little green with envy? It’d be a lie to say no. But would I have been ecstatic for my best friend? Hell yes. Either way, I’m sure whatever the reason, it’s a valid one.

  Would the truth have changed my decision to end my life before it had a chance to end me? Not a damn bit.

  I want you to be happy, Blue Ann Brennan. I want you to experience all of the things I won’t be able to. Whether you get married or not, have children, grandchildren, or become that creepy old lady with thirty cats, or whatever else life throws your way. And don’t you doubt I’ll be watching over you as you do all of it, cheering my best friend on. It just won’t be from the confines of this broken body. We’ve been inseparable since we were in elementary school, so don’t think I’m bailing on you. I’m not; I promise. And trust that I’ll find a way to let you know I’m around. Whether your happiness is with Adam or if it isn’t, I want you to enjoy every second of this life. It’s the only one you get. And speaking of life, I can tell you one thing without a doubt—that boyfriend you’ve been hiding from the world? He adores the fuck out of you. You should see the way his eyes lit up when we talked. He got this goofy smile like a little kid at Christmas every time your name came up. It was cute, and it was honest, and it was…one of the most genuine moments I’ve witnessed. For once i
n my life, I wish I’d have experienced a love of that magnitude, but it wasn’t meant for me. Do me a favor and don’t let that kind of love go. Hang onto it tight.

  What was one of the last things you told me? Do you remember? The words may have been laced with resentment at the time, but I think it’s important to turn them into a positive message now. When I walked into that room unexpectedly, you told me, “You don’t understand. It’s complicated.” I replied and told you, “It’s only complicated if you make it complicated.”

  That’s my two cents. Whatever you do, don’t make it complicated. You’ll know when the time comes how to implement that advice into your life.

  “Fuck.” I lowered the letter and wiped away my tears, the weight of the papers excruciating. I fingered over the indentations on the stationery from her handwriting as I desperately tried to connect with her, hoping for a sign of her presence, but I felt lonelier than ever. With a deep breath, I swallowed and gripped it tight as I punished myself with the ending.

  Most of all, I’m sorry I can’t say a proper goodbye. I wish I could’ve hugged you one last time. Kissed you on the cheek. Told you I love you and that I couldn’t have asked for a better best friend. You deserve so much more than what I gave you, but I couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment in your eyes if you found out what I was about to do. I don’t want you to remember me as someone to pity; I want you to remember me as Madelyn.

  XOXO ALWAYS,

  Mads

  So many emotions filled me. Anger. Denial. Regret. Sadness. All of them were jumbled into that giant blender of feelings she’d mentioned. She was right…about so many things. I both hated and loved her for that. But mostly, I hated me.

  Everything had come full circle again on that heinous carousel. Time had been wasted, and I’d thrown so much of it away. I thought back over the last two years of how I ran away from the past. It was time I could’ve been using to make Madelyn proud. Time. I’d taken for granted the one thing she didn’t have. Was she watching over me? Could I honestly say she’d have been pleased with what I’d done in life? I didn’t think so.

  “Wesley.” I rubbed my lips together. “I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry I left things the way I did.”

  He smirked. “That’s the first time you’ve used my real name.”

  I forced a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Well, don’t go thinking it’ll become some habit.”

  “And I know you’re sorry,” he replied. “I am too. You’re not really a heartless bitch.”

  “And you’re not really the poster child for gonorrhea.”

  He gave me a quizzical look.

  “Never mind.”

  A buzzing sound interrupted us. Beanbag reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, scanning the screen. “Gah.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “That’s Eddie. I need to get going. The old man worries if someone’s thirty seconds late. Watches too many of those late-night crime shows. You gonna be okay? I can bail on him if you need me to.”

  I nodded and did my best to smile. “Go. I’ll be all right. Eventually.”

  “Thank you for tonight. I know it wasn’t easy, but I feel like I can start to heal now.” He gave my hand a squeeze and stood up from the picnic table. I watched him walk away, turning back once. “Don’t be a stranger, Blue. I mean that. If not for me, for ‘Veigh. She’s going to need you.” With one last glance, he jogged toward the direction of his truck in The Fill & Spill parking lot.

  I sat there and breathed in wet Washington air, letting it soak into me along with the words I’d read. There was so much I wanted to tell Madelyn. More than anything, I wished I could’ve told her how important she was to me and how much I love…

  Love.

  I stood up. There was somewhere I needed to go, and the time dictated on my watch didn’t matter. Fate tapped me on the shoulder harder and harder as the evening went on, and all I’d done was ignore it. Enough was enough.

  I knocked on the door as breathing became difficult, each second heightening the tension in the air. My feet begged me to run while my mind negated the action. It was now or never. I chose now.

  Something caught my eye while I waited. On the newly-redone porch, two glimmers of copper caught my eye. There was no doubt I looked like an idiot as I sank down to my hands and knees with my face three inches above the ground. My fingers traced over the two pennies pushed into the once-wet cement. The porch light illuminated the detailed etching that reflected a four-digit number. One conveyed Adam’s birth year and the other his grandfather’s, the man who’d built the house. The gesture hit home a little closer to me as I thought of the letter I’d read. Two cents. Madelyn.

  That is my two cents. Whatever you do, don’t make it complicated. You’ll know when the time comes how to implement that advice into your life.

  It was my sign.

  Don’t worry, Mads. I’m not gonna fuck it up again.

  Reality reined me back in with the sound of massive waves crashing on the beach in the background, wind whistling through the air. I shivered and stood up, pulling my hands inside the cuffs on my coat. My fingertips were both numb and thrumming with adrenaline. I knocked louder, this time with the heel of my hand.

  About a minute later, the door opened, the room dark. Adam’s hair was damp and disheveled as he squinted at the brightly-lit porch. A pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, drawing my attention to his shirtless torso.

  “Hi.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

  His shoulders slumped in defeat. “What do you want? It’s almost midnight.”

  The right words continued to fail me. “Hi.”

  You said ‘hi’ twice? Really, Blue? That’s the best you could come up with?

  “I think you already established that.” His expression turned from questioning to irritated as he started to shut the door a few inches. “Well, this was fun, but I’m sure Cash is waiting with his cobweb treatment—”

  “Help me.” A lump formed in my throat while I tried to speak, my cold fingers aching to touch him. I kept my fists inside my sleeves to keep temptation at bay. Being in his presence felt as necessary as breathing. My face burned and my pulse pounded with the memory of last time he’d kissed me. It’d been so long.

  “Help you what?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the doorway.

  Holding back was no longer possible. The dam of emotions I’d reserved for Adam was finally bursting as tears flowed down my cheeks. My tone was timid while my heart swelled up into my throat. “Help me remember what I’ve fought so hard to forget?”

  “Go home and get some rest, Blue. You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not.” I wiped my nose with my sleeve. “I swear.”

  He studied me for what felt like eternity before opening the door farther, stepping back to allow me inside before he closed it behind us. “What do you want me to say?” he asked. With the click of a table lamp, the room brightened to a dim shade of buttermilk.

  “I’m here,” I replied. “In Podunk Steele Falls.”

  “So what?” Adam slammed his hand against the tiled surface of a baker’s rack near the front door, the table lamp jumping a few inches and its shade knocked off kilter. “Tell me!” he yelled. “What is so fucking terrible about being back in Steele Falls again. Family shit? The thing between Daveigh and Beanbag? Your mom being the frigid snow queen with an entire iceberg wedged up her ass? Or is it not about family? Maybe it’s because the fling with you and Zack didn’t work out?”

  I fidgeted with the zipper on my jacket because I couldn’t bear to look at him. It hurt too much. “No. None of those.”

  “Then what has you walking up to my door at midnight saying ‘hi’ twice while sounding like you should be awarded with a gold star for coming back?”

  “It’s you.�
� I scrunched my eyes shut, hoping the tighter they were closed, the pain would lessen. It didn’t work.

  “Me?” He paused. “Why?”

  Expressing myself was harder than I expected. A fresh trail of emotion took hold. “You made me feel again.”

  Adam let a laugh out through his nose and shook his head. “Well, I guess I’m the biggest asshole out of everyone around here then.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

  “Then, spit it out already!”

  “Listen. On Friday, I thought I was coming back for Tom’s funeral and to collect my part of the inheritance. But I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I was homesick,” I looked at the floor and drew a deep breath before looking up at him, “for you.”

  He crossed his arms, his face giving me zero reaction.

  “Don’t do that.” I stomped my foot.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That look. The poker face.”

  His voice intensified. “Like the one you’ve been giving everyone else around here since you arrived?”

  As if to balance the teeter totter, my voice took on a decrescendo. “You look like you’re disappointed. Like I’m the worst person on the planet.”

  Silence.

  And there was the truth without him having to say it. The simplicity of shaking his head back and forth slowly with a stoic expression said what he thought of me.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I stood there and waited, feeling both raw and exposed. My walls were already crumbling into rubble. I didn’t know how to stop it if I wanted to. The quiet was a million shades of awkward and uncomfortable, but I deserved every painstaking moment.

  Adam ran his fingers through his hair and stormed across the living room without a word.