The Flight of Hope
Page 23
He grabs the back of my neck, pulling me down for another kiss. “You saved me, Marlee. I love you, too.”
The threat of tears spilling over becomes too much to handle. I kiss him one more time before leaving to fetch Guy. Once outside the hospital’s carousel doors, I break down. My feet never quit moving. With each step, the tears of fear drain from me.
On the walk back to the hospital, the tears keep falling. Some say tears dry up over time. I call bullshit. I manage to sweep them off my face before entering the hospital and checking in at the front desk to get a visitor badge for Guy. I know my eyes are swollen and red, yet can’t find a reason to hide my pain.
I check the family waiting area first and find all of the Bryants minus Jed huddled around a weeping Fender. I waste no time rushing over to them.
“Fender, someone wants to see you.” I grip on the end of Guy’s leash.
It doesn't matter how tight my grips is because Guy bolts from me. His two front paws land on the chair next to Fender’s legs. He laps up all of his tears.
“My best friend.” Fender’s arms wrap around Guy’s neck. He buries his face in the safety of his best friend.
There’s a huge television nestled in the corner. I have Jed’s patient identification number memorized by heart. I study the monitor, waiting for any updates. I’ve never felt seconds that seem like hours until now. Fender has long fallen asleep cuddled next to Guy.
“Damn good idea, Marlee.” Luke points at the sleeping pair.
“That dog has offered so much comfort to me over the years, and he loves Fender.”
“I can see that,” Luke replies.
I don’t know what forces me to do so, but I open up to Martha, Luke, and Caleb, telling them all about my family and Bentley. I start from the beginning and don’t leave a single part out until the ending.
“We’d love to meet your parents, Marlee. You know our house is always open.” Martha clutches my hand. “I’ve never seen my Jeddy in love, until you.”
“Jeddy, really, Mom?” Caleb leans forward, resting his elbows on the top of his thighs.
“Jed will always be my Jeddy Teddy Bear.”
Caleb shakes his head in disgust at the nickname.
“You’ll understand one day, boy,” Luke adds.
“Yes, you will, Poopy.”
“Jesus, Mom.” Caleb blushes to the point of turning red.
“I get why you call Jed, Jeddy the Teddy, but I have to hear the story behind Caleb’s nickname, please,” I demand.
“Mom,” Caleb warns.
It does nothing to stop Martha, a momma determined. “When Caleb was about ten months.”
“Mom! I swear.” He buries his face in his palms.
“My Poopy loved his bath time. I couldn’t pry him out of the tub. Well, once his little bum would hit the warm water, he’d poop. Every single time. The first time it happened I flipped, screaming for Luke. We ended up fishing the turd out with a strainer. Well, then I became a seasoned pro and dealt with it on my own.”
My abs have never been worked out so hard. Half from the story Martha is telling me and from the sheer embarrassment cascading off of Caleb. I didn’t think the man could be embarrassed.
Clutching my stomach, I manage to get out. “Oh, Poopy, you didn’t shit the bed, you are a tub shitter.”
“Thanks, Mom, thanks a lot.”
The childhood stories fold out. Martha holds nothing back. A wave of reassurance ghosts across her face as she continues to toss her boys under the bus. I’ll be chatting with Jed about the time he was busted with his first porno magazine and sock by his mom.
The time is spent divulging funny stories until a doctor walks into the small waiting room. Fender is still fast asleep on Guy, and neither of them stirs when he begins talking.
The droplets of blood on the doctor’s white Dansko clogs transfix me. I’m unable to pull my stare from them. Jed’s blood. I freeze, unable to hear the first few words.
“He’s out of surgery and doing great. His appendix is no longer there. We’re going to continue with treatment to ensure the cancer is completely gone. It’s never a guarantee, but Jed is a poster child for this treatment.”
“When can we see him?” Martha asks.
“He’s in recovery for now. The nurses will come and get you once he’s awake. He’ll be transported to a room on floor three for his after surgery care until he’s able to go home.”
“Then the treatments come.”
Everyone glances to Luke who has tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. None of us know if it was a question or statement.
The doctor nods.
“Yes, everything will be proactive. Not an easy journey, but one worth fighting.” The doctor stands. “Oh, Jed kept asking for a Marlee toward the end of the surgery. Claimed he needed her and wanted to make her scream.”
My eyes bulge, heat chases over my cheeks, and I want to crawl underneath the chair I’m sitting in.
“Patients say some of the funniest stuff when waking up.”
Yeah, really funny. Caleb gets the biggest kick out of the comment. Karma at its finest.
33
“Intense love does not measure, it just gives.” -Mother Teresa
Jed’s palms grip my ass. Even in his weak state, he’s never lost his appetite to touch me.
“Hold still.” I bend over, grabbing the clippers.
“Don’t want to.” Jed runs his hands through his hair. Clumps remain in his grip. “I’d rather be doing something else.”
It’s a rare day where Jed has some energy and isn’t throwing up. Out of all the pain and suffering he’s in; his hair bugs him the most. It’s nearly gone with only a few sparse spots left. He’s covered it up with his favorite beanie from one of his tours from years ago. Today he’ll no longer be covering it up because the Bryant men have risen to the occasion.
He’s lost his love for eating, is covered in bruises, and can barely get out of bed most days and even through it all, he hasn’t lost his will to live and express his love. The days he has the extra energy he spends it living big. It doesn’t mean there haven’t been dark nasty times where his deepest fears come out to play. We share those days as well.
Today we are shaving the bits of hair he has left. Three other chairs are lined up next to his side. Fender, Caleb, and Luke are taking the dive as well. Martha is in the house, rounding them up. Fender wants to look just like his daddy.
“Feeling sick?” I ask, planting my hands on the top of his shoulders.
Jed pulls me into his lap. The weight loss Jed has experienced is heart-wrenching. He’s a shell of the man he once was, but it never stops him. Fatigue and vomiting have been the worse side effects so far. Some nights the retching of bile he pukes is uncontrollable. Caleb is always by his side, passing him a joint once the puking stops and the muscle aches settle in. Those two have been higher than kites. It always dulls the pain for the time being.
Martha marches the troops out, setting them in their seats. We each have clippers in hand. I told Martha she could start with Jed, but she refused, telling me he has a new woman in his life. I love her. She’s the perfect mother not being intimidated by anyone.
“I want Nana to make me bald,” Fender declares.
Luke takes a seat by his son while Caleb and Fender sit on Nana’s end. God bless her she has a much bigger job with those two than I do. It only takes a few passes over Jed’s head until he has no hair left. His face is swollen, dark lines under his eyes, and is pale as a blank white sheet. I hate seeing him in this state.
“Dad, you don’t have to do this.”
“Sure, I do, Jed. Don’t need Caleb marching his ass round here claiming to be sexy and bald. Boy needs some competition.”
I don’t wait for any further instruction before running the clippers in long lines over Luke’s head. The slamming of a truck door causes us all to turn our attention to the driveway. I’ve seen the man around town, but have no idea who he is, yet know
I should.
“Pastor Williams, so nice to see you.” Martha places her clippers on a table and brushes at her apron.
“My wife made you all dinner. Just wanted to drop it by.”
Martha and Luke are faithful in their devotion, attending church every Sunday since they’ve been home. Jed told me it’s always been like that. It’s the way the boys were raised, but their parents don’t judge them for not going or force them to attend because they know their boys are God-fearing men.
“Tell Willa Jean we sure appreciate it.” Martha grabs the dishes.
“Yes, thank you, Pastor. You’re more than welcome to help yourself to some ice tea and visit a bit.” Luke points to the glass container of tea brewing in the sun. Not the least bit concerned he is currently sporting the worst haircut known to mankind.
“Thanks, but I got to get going. Delanie calls every Tuesday afternoon, and I don’t want to miss it. Take care, and God bless.”
He’s back in his truck and gone.
“Who’s Delanie?” Jed asks.
“Pastor’s daughter. Lives in Texas. Heard she’s a fox,” Caleb offers.
“What’s dat mean?” Fender peers up to him.
“A chick with massive t…”
Martha whacks Caleb upside the head with the clippers, halting him mid-sentence.
“Son of a bitch, Mom.” He rubs the spot.
She whacks him again. “Language.”
“Son of a biscuit.” He rubs the new spot. “Control your woman, Dad.”
“You’re a big boy, Caleb.” Luke chuckles.
I finish before Martha does. I knew her job was going to be a rough one. Jed shivers, growing a light shade of green.
“Need to go lay down for a bit?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No, don’t want to miss any of this. Can you grab the blanket off the couch?”
“Yep.” I kiss his cheek and run my fingers over the sores on the corner of his lips. They’re finally drying out. “Martha, want me to toss that casserole in the oven the Pastor brought?”
She tilts her head and bites her bottom lip. “This doesn’t leave this porch. Willa Jean is a horrible cook. Let’s freeze it and forget about it for now.”
“I’m telling,” Caleb sings. “Gonna share that piece of gossip with all the old ladies in town.”
Another whop to the side of the head. I laugh, walking inside to grab the blanket. The cabin that was once one straight from a magazine has now become a home to me. We moved my Airstream down here eight weeks ago after it became too much of a toll going back and forth. Jed’s treatment intensified once the doctors realized it wasn’t as effective as they once thought it would be. It was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted to be there for every single second of the day for Jed.
I never sleep in it anymore. It’s become Fender’s playhouse. Martha bought Fender a bed and let him help decorate a room of his own. It’s rare that he ever asks to sleep between Jed and me and when he does, we welcome him with open arms. No questions asked.
Jed has never followed any parenting magazines. He’s ignored all of it, allowing his heart to be the only guidance when it comes to Fender.
The porch is eerily silent when I walk back outside. I’m in the middle of a yawn. The kind that takes over your entire face, causing you to only focus on it. Mouth wide open, eyes shut, and head thrown back. Caleb’s hair is half gone and Fender’s rustling around with Guy in the dirt. His bald head is shining through it all.
I wrap the thick Aztec pattern blanket around Jed’s shoulders. I kiss the top of his head, sensing he has a slight temperature.
“Come here.” He pulls me into his lap.
I cringe internally every single time he does this. The man is so frail I hate sitting in his lap, so I always keep most of my weight centered on the balls of my feet. I’ve gained a good ten to fifteen pounds since moving in and being spoiled by Martha’s cooking.
“Need me to warm you up?” I ask, running my palm over his now smooth head. I can’t believe we’ve waited this long to shave off the few patches of hair.
“Something like that.”
God, I crave to be in this man’s arms or holding him. It’s my favorite thing to do when he sleeps. I run my hands all over his body, committing the feel of his skin to memory.
He grabs my hand under the blanket, and I feel a cold piece of metal slip around my finger. I gasp, but Jed holds my hand in his and whispers. “Marry me, Marlee. Marry me after my hair grows back, and I’m strong. Let’s build our cabin and start a life.”
The words are lodged in my throat. I try and try to get them up, only to have them get stuck. I begin to nod my head slow at first then faster.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, Jed.”
I grab the sides of his face and kiss his lips. “Yes, I will marry you anywhere and anytime.”
“Hit it, Fender.”
I turn to see Caleb with his hands cupped around his mouth. Everyone was watching us, and I had no clue, that’s how immersed I was in Jed Bryant. Fender pulls his dad’s phone out of his back pocket and pushes the buttons. Loud guitar strums begin to play, startling me.
Jed points out the large Bluetooth speakers on the porch.
“Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran surrounds us, swallowing us whole.
“Dance with me,” Jed whispers in my ear.
I rise from his lap, giving him time to get up on his own. It’s a fine line where I never want Jed to feel like he has to rely on anyone stripping his pride away from him and I also don’t like to see him struggle. Once he’s standing, I grab the blanket on his shoulders and wrap up in it with him.
We move back and forth cocooned in the warmth of the blanket and highlighted in the glow of our love. A rare kind of love that I once already lived and now get a second chance at. I rest my face in the crook of Jed’s neck, soaking him in.
“I’ve got a Mommy.” Fender races up the porch, wiggling his way between us.
I don’t flinch or feel pain strike at his comment. It’s all the complete opposite. I melt and become a Mommy.
“Pictures,” Martha declares, waving her phone around.
I pick up Fender, nestling him between us.
“Smile, you ugly, bald bastard,” Caleb chides with a huge grin on his face.
Jed may be sick, but nobody treats him any different. Caleb kisses the top of my head, Fender sticks his tongue out at the camera, Guy puts his two paws on my side, and I smile.
“Let me see.” Fender races off.
Jed pulls me back into the blanket. “I want to take you down to the little cabin, strip you naked, and make love to you all night. I’ve imagined it over and over in my head. It’s all I want.”
“In time it will happen, but for now you’ll have to settle for cuddling.”
Jed winces, and I know it’s not from what I said. He’s going to vomit. The gut-wrenching and relentless vomiting is about to ensue. Nasty bile that never gives up.
I grab his arm and guide him in the house.
“Almost to your room.” I turn back, checking on him.
Jed is barely on the edge of the bed, reaching for the bucket, bending over and heaving into it. The happy moment is obliterated by the harsh truth of reality. I rub his back, waiting for the spell to get over.
After long moments, he slowly sits back up. “One step forward, five hundred back.”
“No, baby. It was a good day. The best day. Cling to that. This will pass.” I lay my head on his shoulder and hold my hand up in front of us. “We have forever.”
“I’m tired of being sick. I feel worthless all the damn time.”
“Baby, you’re halfway through.”
“And when it comes back? I’ll never be cancer free. It will always be a threat.”
Jed’s mind and body are always on a constant roller coaster of ups and downs. I promised at the beginning of his treatment his sidekicks would get him through it.
“It might come back, or this treatment may fail, but you’re
not a quitter no matter how brutal this is. You are going to get healthy for a night in the cabin and many more after.”
He turns his head, kissing my forehead. “I’m down. You know how it goes.”
“I’m going to go help your mom with dinner. Want to come out in the recliner?”
“Fuck football. I’m sick of watching old tapes and listening to those two asses.”
“Me, too.” I stand up. “Let’s go wash you up a bit.”
I follow Jed into the bathroom and stand back as he splashes water on his face and brushes his teeth.
“Daddy!”
I turn in time to see Fender run face first into the wall.
“Dammit. Son of a…”
“Fender.” Both Jed and I call out at the same time.
“Biscuit eater,” he finishes.
“I swear, if Caleb ever has kids it’s going to be on,” Jed mutters under his breath.
“Daddy.” Fender rubs his head that collided into the wall. “Nana bought this new book about dinosaurs. Will you read it to me?”
That makes Jed beam with pride. He does it every single time Fender nails all of his r sounds. “Yes, climb in bed.”
I rush over to the bed, grabbing the bucket and pulling back the blankets before the boys make it. After rinsing out the bucket in the bathroom, I lean on the door jamb, arms folded, and watch Jed read about dinosaurs. I don’t know what it is. I can’t put my finger on it. But in moments like these I know everything will work out.
It’s hard day in and day out seeing a person you love suffer so much. But when you hear Jed’s rich voice reading each word on the pages about dinosaurs and see Fender immersed in each syllable with a big grin on his face, you have to believe in the good of the world.
I sneak out of the bedroom, not either one of my boys noticing me. Like Jed predicted Luke and Caleb are settled in front of the TV watching football, arguing like always. I find Martha in the kitchen cooking up a storm.
“What can I help you with?” I ask.
Martha used to tell me nothing and to go away, but I think she’s learned I’m not going to give up and always ask if she needs help. She points to a pile of potatoes and asks me to dice them and put them in a boiling pot of water.