He leans down and kisses her cheek whispering in her ear. She smiles at him and weakly tugs his hand again until he leans into her, then she clumsily throws her arm around his shoulder giving him a hug. I can just hear her saying another thank you before they pull away from each other.
Danny shows me the star through the telescope. I’m surprised that he knows about this stuff, but apparently he took Astronomy at college. Rubén sits next to Amanda as I explain how beautiful the star is. I want her to see. Rubén lifts her out of the bed and holds her until Danny points the telescope and shows her where the star is located in the sky. She gasps and throws her hand over her mouth. “I’m beautiful,” she tells us all with a smile. I wipe across my eyes with the heels of my palms, as my chest shudders while I try to calm myself.
“Always babe,” Rubén replies, gazing into her eyes and I know it’s time to leave them alone. Danny obviously feels the same as he kisses the back of my hand.
“We’re going to bed. See you guys in the morning,” he tells them with a smile and goodnights are said all around. When we walk back past the living room to the stairs, Mike is asleep on the sofa, so I walk over grabbing a blanket and covering him before joining Danny at the bottom of the stairs. “Let’s go get some rest, baby,” he tells me and I nod.
Sleep eludes me as I lay in Danny’s arms. I think about how easily I’ve come to this point, where I’m sleeping, even without sex, next to Danny every night. I wanted to take things slowly. With sex I have, but my heart has raced ahead at a million miles an hour and I have no control over it.
“Love you, Danny,” I whisper to him.
“Every day, Bel,” Danny replies and I feel myself pulled under by exhaustion.
“Right, now we’re here I w-want you to tell me everything,” Amanda says as I sit in the chair by her bed.
“Okay. So firstly, as you probably suspected, Pastor Wilson will be marrying you. We’re going to set it up outside, but if you can’t manage going out there, then we’ll just do it with us, here, in the bedroom.”
A frown passes over her face. “Errrm… do you think that m-maybe Danny would carry me outside, you know, if I’m too s-sick to walk?” she asks biting the inside of her mouth, her eyes are wide making her look like a little girl.
“Of course, honey,” I reply with a smile, warmth fluttering in my belly, knowing Danny would be happy to play that role. She claps her hands together, a small smile playing on her lips, but says nothing so I take that as my cue to continue, “Like you asked, I have your momma’s wedding dress. I found it in the attic just like you said it would be. It’s been dry cleaned and is ready for you.”
She grabs my hand and jerks her head asking me non-verbally to come closer. I lean in and she whispers in my ear, “I want to be b-buried in that dress, Bellie. Please make sure that happens.” I swallow the boulder in my throat but nod in agreement. Whatever she needs, I’ll drain myself trying to achieve it for her.
“Okay,” I continue with happier thoughts. “Mrs. Archibald from the church is doing some flowers and Simone will be here today. Your pop has gone to get her from the airport. He’s going to show her around, then they’re getting an early night at the hotel just like you told them to.” A frown passes over her face at my comment. She knows that everyone disagreed with her insistence on Mike spending some alone time with Simone. They have all the time in the world, she doesn’t. But it was Amanda’s request, so her pop agreed. “Anyway, they’ll be over early in the morning about eight. Then Simone will start making the French food you love so much.” She smiles but it’s a lie. We asked Simone to make some food because we know how much Amanda loves it. The truth that we’re all avoiding is that she won’t be able to eat anything. She hasn’t eaten since she went into the hospital, everyone is worried including the nurse. “So, Rubén and Danny are out now, choosing their suits,” I tell her with a grin.
“Bellie, I want you to d-do something for me,” Amanda tells me. “You remember that dress I bought you?” I nod, remembering it clearly. It was our senior prom. Keith was supposed to take me, but it was when my feelings were at their strongest for Danny. Amanda had seen this dress while we were out shopping. It was floor-length, navy satin, it had spaghetti straps and it naturally clung to every part of my body. Keith didn’t pick me up for prom that night, and the following week I heard that Danny had hooked up with one of the girls. I put the dress in my closet and never took it back out.
“I’m not sure it will still fit me,” I reply.
“T-try it, for me. I’m pretty sure with all the w-worrying you’ve been doing, you’ve lost at least t-ten pounds in the last few weeks. I love that dress on you Bellie. I’d love to know that you’ve f-finally worn it, whatever the occasion.”
“Okay, Moo,” I agree.
“Now, I’ve w-written this,” Amanda says. Hands shaking, she pulls some paper out from the drawer in her bedside cabinet. “This is for tomorrow. What do you t-think?” she asks me passing the note over. I pull it from her hands, unfolding it I stare down at the shaky handwriting, mixed emotions surge through me.
If I knew this was how my life would have turned out, would I have done things differently?
If I’d have known that I would be dying so young, would my desires, wants or needs have changed?
If I was aware that my time would be limited, would my choices have been different?
The answer to every question is no. I would not change one thing about my life. This time was a gift, and I have used it in the best way I know how. Making one change could mean I’d lose myself, the person I’ve become and I like me. Making one change could mean I lose the people that I love, the people that have filled my life to the fullest, with nothing but love and happiness. But more than anything, making one change could mean I’d lose this moment.
This one right now.
The one where I get to say ‘I do.’
The one where I get to devote myself to you. I choose this. And if I had my time again I’d still choose you. If I were to be told right now that I’ll have another fifty years to live, I’d still choose you. You’re my choice. You’re the one I’ve been running toward. If I had to have cancer to bring me to you. Then when my time comes, I’ll lay down happily, knowing I got to have the best few weeks of my life because of you. Because you loved me.
I can’t control the weeping this time. I hate that I’m crying, it’s not what I want to give her, she has enough to deal with. But the floodgates have opened. All I can do is whisper I’m sorry, over and over as we hold each other.
I can’t stop fidgeting in bed. Huffing and glancing over at the clock, it’s two a.m. I throw the pillow over my face and growl. Rubén and Danny are having a bachelor party. Well, when I say that what I mean is they’ve gone to the hotel bar, had about three drinks then got in bed for eleven. All right, I know that’s not exactly the story. However, it isn’t far off the truth. Amanda—being the Amanda we all know and love—insisted on Rubén having a bachelor party. Something he really didn’t want, but she got her way. He was also banished to a hotel, on the grounds that he shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding. I tried to convince her that she was being silly, but she wouldn’t have it. She said that she didn’t want to tempt fate, with her run of luck she needed to do everything by the book. I rolled my eyes and Rubén growled, but yet again Amanda got her way. So they left this evening—Rubén making sure he didn’t go until the last possible minute—and went straight to the hotel, the same one as Mike and Simone. Just the two of them. They drank a couple of beers at the bar. Had something to eat, then just after eleven Danny called me and said he was back in his room. Rubén was next door. He said that it was killing him watching Rubén suffer, and knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. Danny told me that he’d never seen his friend so twisted up about anything before, and he was worried about how Rubén was going to cope afterward. We changed the subject after that, both of us knowing there’s little we can do for him right now. He finished b
y telling me he loved me and that he was going to get some sleep. He said Rubén wanted to be up at six so he could be back at the house as soon as possible even if he couldn’t see Amanda until noon. He also added that he told Danny to be careful when he carried her up the aisle to him, and if he harmed her then Rubén would kick him in his ball sack. That made me laugh and our conversation ended on a high, which was much better than how it started.
I fell asleep quickly, but woke up about an hour ago, now I’m struggling to drift off again. Deciding to pull out my notebook, I arrange the pillows behind me propping myself up. Bending my knees, I place the notebook against them and grab my pen. The moon shines in through the window and the light bounces off the empty lines waiting for my ink to fill them.
Amanda’s getting married today. It’s two a.m. now, so we’re officially less than twenty-four hours away. My emotions are so mixed. I thought about her wedding when I was a child. It may seem strange thinking about your friend’s wedding day. But we used to dress up, put on old pieces of lace or cloth our parents had. Plastic tiaras and Momma’s old lipstick. Knowing one day our princes would come. We had it all arranged. Amanda would get married first—it was only fair as she was a whole two months older—and then I would be her bridesmaid. A year later I would get married and she’d be my bridesmaid. Then I’d have a child first because I’d always wanted children and she was never sure about them.
I’m not sure when my dreams became irrelevant or when my desires died off. Knowing Keith has a child cements the fact that I’ll probably never be able to have one. I got married first. Unhappily. I missed my best friend’s first marriage, to a douche who didn’t deserve her. Now I get to see her truly happy, truly in love. Then I get to watch as it’s all ripped away. I’ll look around after, at the scattered pieces of everyone’s hearts. The devastation she’ll leave behind will be huge. You can’t love someone that much, never imagining a time without them, to then survive this pain.
Hearing a noise I stop writing. Clutching the notebook to my chest, I keep listening out, not sure if it was my imagination or not. Suddenly something smashes and my heart pounds as I jump out of bed racing down the stairs. I see Sandra, Amanda’s nurse, rushing into her room. Moving through the doorway, my eyes immediately snap to Amanda. She’s laying perfectly still. I watch her chest rise and fall with achingly slow breaths and feel myself exhale a relieved sigh. Her breathing is noisy, gurgling and rattling loudly. I look to Sandra, who’s hooking up a heartbeat monitor.
“I just want to measure her stats for a while,” she says with a sad smile. I nod but say nothing. I feel like my legs are stuck to the floor and I’m scared that if I move something will change. Maybe if I stay right here, at the door, I can keep our world the same. I can feel it, see it in the nurses eyes. Amanda’s giving up. “She hasn’t got long sweetie,” the nurse announces my inner monolog to the room. Molding myself to the doorframe and feeling my legs give way, I try to block out the truth.
“But the noise, the crash I heard,” I mutter.
She shakes her head. “Sorry Anabel, she wasn’t conscious for that. It can be common at the end of life, sometimes patients make sudden movements, jerking or jolting. I think her hand must have hit this,” she says pointing to the medical table. The one that’s been set up for Amanda just slightly higher than her bed making it easy for her to reach things. I can see glass on the floor which has obviously been knocked off.
“Will she…” I swallow a couple of times trying to compose myself. “Will she wake up?”
I can already see the pity in her eyes and I want to scream and throw something at her. My insides are burning and I clutch my stomach, waiting for her answer.
“I don’t know.” Her reply is weak, vague. I can’t help but think about Amanda being so strong, she deserves the same from everyone else.
“But you don’t think so, do you?” I challenge her on a hiss, twisting my hand into my stomach, trying to ease the pain.
She doesn’t get angry at my tone. Her face doesn’t even change to impassive. She just keeps throwing out pity from her eyes as her head moves from left to right, giving me the ‘no’ I already knew was coming. “Sit with her. Hold her hand,” Sandra tells me then moves out of the room.
Still not moving from the doorframe, I attempt to collect my scattered thoughts. I need to roll all my feelings up and lock them away for a while. If I can give Amanda that strength I told her about, maybe she can hang on at least for her wedding. She wants this so badly. Forcing my legs to relax so I’m able to move, and releasing the skin on my stomach from the painful grip my fingers hold, I slowly move into the room sitting next to Amanda’s bed. I place my notebook and pen—which is still clutched to my chest—on the bed next to her. I reach over to her bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out her cell. Without realizing, I pull a piece of paper with it. It falls away and flutters down onto the bed. I recognize it straight away. The vows for Rubén. My hands shake as I claim the piece of paper, slipping it into my notebook, scared that it’s going to be lost and knowing she would want Rubén to have it. I sit back and look at the cell, then back to Amanda’s face. Apart from her noisy breathing, she’s also very pale and obviously weak. Suddenly, everything seems so surreal and I’m convinced that I’m imagining it all. I pinch my cheek, which hurts and also, unfortunately, confirms that this is very real. I slip my left hand over Amanda’s right and clutch her gently, willing her to hold on. With my right hand, I shakily dial Mike.
“Sweetheart?” Mike’s voice is raspy and laced with sleep.
“No, Mike, it’s Anabel.”
“Oh, my good God, please tell me you’re not calling to shatter my world?” I understand his words, they’re not said with malice or to upset. Still, it’s hard being the bearer of bad news. I hate seeing people I love in pain, and more than that I still have to try and manage my own. Right now, I know I’ve locked up the emotions, but the box is shaking and I’m attempting to keep a hold of it. Loosely.
“She’s not gone. But you need to get back to the house,” I tell him.
“I’m leaving now.” He rushes out before hanging up.
I decide to try Rubén next. His phone rings, but there’s no answer.
“For fuck’s sake!” I growl and dial Danny.
“Amanda?” he answers sleepily, he must have seen the caller ID.
“Danny,” I whisper as the emotion snaps, the loose hold I had now non-existent.
“Babe?” Oh, fuck. Shit. Is she—”
“She’s still with us. Barely.
Please, come as quick as you can.” I cry now, my chest compressing.
“Be there as quick as we can baby.”
“Hurry,” I sob out and hang up the phone.
I watch her for what feels like forever, tears continuously roll down my face. Amanda is struggling with every breath. It sounds like she has something loose in her chest and liquid at the back of her throat. I want to sit her up, help her breathe. The nurse comes in and we adjust her position, but it makes no difference. In the end, we lay her back down as that’s where she seems to struggle the least. Sandra tells me this is very normal and that she’s in no pain. Giving her a dirty look, I wonder how many times she’s died and, therefore, can say for certain how much pain Amanda is in. Looking back at the clock when she exits the room again, I realize it’s only been ten minutes since I made the phone calls. It feels like hours. All I have in me now is sadness that runs throughout my body. I want to punch the wall, throw things, cuss and scream.
I want to make everything okay.
There’s an ache in my throat that matches the one in my heart, and I feel like every part of my body hurts, like the pain inside has managed to attach to my skin. I lean over and stroke Amanda’s cheek. Her face is so cold. The noise from her breathing and the heart rate monitor create a sad melody. Glancing at my notebook, I pick it up. Hoping I can expel some of the emotions.
I’ve never really thought much about our heartbeat. I
t’s just a pulse of the heart. I’ve also never given much thought to the length of a heartbeat, the time it takes for each pulse.
I decided to Google it a couple of weeks ago.
Google knows everything, right?
I’m not sure why I was wasting time, maybe it was a distraction. My findings said that the average heartbeat—I mean what is average about anyone these days—is seventy-two beats per minute. Seventy-two. That’s less than a second for every beat. Less than a second. Yet, even with that small timeframe, I’d still need even less time than that to answer yes, if someone could offer me the choice of taking her place.
Taking a deep breath as I watch my tears hit the notebook paper, just touching a corner of the ink causing it to blur.
“Mandie Moo,” I sob out, zero control over my own feelings now. “Please don’t leave us. I k-know I said when you needed to go, I’d... that I’d let you go, that I’d be strong for you, but Mandie Moo I lied. I’m sorry, but I need you here. We all do. I’m not sure how to function without you,” I bawl as I lay my head on her legs, my shoulders jerking up and down with each snotty wail.
I try to calm myself and turn my head to watch her face as her breathing starts quieting down. Feeling hope pulsing through me, I check the time again praying everyone will get here soon. My own heartbeat picks up speed quick when Amanda stops breathing altogether for a few seconds. She does it again and I count the time—five seconds. I can feel the fear creeping up my throat and when it happens a third time, I call the nurse who comes rushing in.
Finally Unbroken Page 19
