“Are you laughing, Emsky?” Andy accused.
My body shook as big chuckles escaped from my lips. “I’m sorry,” I gasped, “but this is just so freaking crazy . . .” I walked over to watch the guy at work.
“Hey, no peeking!” Andy yelled.
I ignored him and looked at his back as the tattooist began to poke black ink along the outline of the words he had written. I chuckled even harder. Seth jumped up and came to my side.
“If you’re watching then so am I.” His brows furrowed, and then he laughed. “Are you kidding me? You mom is going to freak.”
Right across the center of his back, in big bold letters, were the words
Fuck you Cancer! It filled half of his back.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” I winced. Fuck, I was in pain just watching him.
“Actually, no. I think most of the nerves in my back are shot. If you’re ever going to get a tattoo, do it when you’re dying,” he grinned.
I walked away, pretending I was looking at the designs on the wall. Really, his words had gotten to me. I wiped my eyes, embarrassed that my emotions were getting to me.
It was rare, but sometimes I actually managed to forget that he was dying. And then I’d remember. And my world would come crashing down again. This was one of those times.
“All done.” Andy turned, proudly showing off his new artwork. I had to laugh, because all I could see in my head was Deb’s face when she saw that. “Okay, now we can go home.”
“Not just yet,” I said in my most mysterious voice. Andy’s brow creased as I walked over to the tattooist. “Can you write Andy here?” I asked, pointing to the inside of my wrist.
“Sure. Take a seat.”
“Em,” Andy said, his eyes widening. “No way.”
“Why not?” I argued. “You did. This way I can remember you.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but thought better of it. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispered, love in his eyes. He sat next to me for the twenty minutes it took to have his name forever engraved into my skin. When it was finished, I held it up, examining my swollen red and blotchy skin and the beautifully scrawled Andy in the center of it.
“The swelling will go down after a few days, just rub some of this on it twice a day and keep it covered until it dries out.” He handed me a small bottle of cream. “Anything for you?” he asked Seth.
“Hell, no.” He turned to Andy. “You know I love you dude, but not happening.”
I chuckled as we walked out, holding my throbbing wrist in my hand. I can’t believe I actually did that. Andy had promised I’d enjoy myself, and while I’d been doubtful, I had to admit that he had been right. Thanks to him, I was pushing myself to experience things I never would’ve even considered had it not been for him.
***
I lay on the bed just watching him. Even asleep, he sounded awful; his chest was so congested that every inhale sounded like he had a lake in his lungs. Cora, my boss, had told me that as the lungs began to shut down it would become harder and harder for him to breathe.
Reaching out, I stroked his hair. It had grown back lighter than before and was fine like baby hair. I looked up as Marta poked her head in the door.
“How is he?” she asked softly.
I shrugged, tears pricking my eyes. “He sounds horrible,” I whispered. My lip trembled as it became harder to hold back the wave of emotion that was waiting to release.
“He should be in the hospital. Or at the very least, he needs a doctor.”
I nodded, knowing that as well as she did. The hospital wasn’t what he wanted, though. There was no getting better from this, and I was determined to honor his wishes for as long as I could. But I couldn’t stand to see him in pain.
“Can you call a doctor? Do you know someone?” I asked. We were hours away from home and his medical team.
She nodded, giving me a sympathetic smile as she backed out of the room.
I turned back to Andy and took his hand, folding my fingers between his. Carefully, I unwrapped the bandage that had been neatly wrapped around my tattoo. It was red and angry, but seeing his name etched onto me made me smile. It had been a small gesture, but this was my way of remembering him.
Chapter Sixteen
Seth
Where the hell am I supposed to get half this shit from?
It was Friday afternoon and I was at the Home Depot with a list of supplies Andy had given me for the wake. The whole idea of a live wake still irked me, but there was no talking him out of it. Marta had told me it was pretty common for those who were dying to want to say goodbye. I understood that, but calling it a wake seemed so morbid. But that was Andy: he wanted to be remembered.
He and Em were spending the day together, and for once I’d felt like a third wheel, which was why I’d jumped at the chance to do his last-minute shopping. Watching the two of them together was hard, especially when he was so sick. I could see how much he loved her, and I could see how much she was hurting. I so badly wanted to be the one comforting her.
I left Home Depot with everything Andy had asked for. It was still pretty early, and I wasn’t ready to head back home just yet. I spied a Starbucks across the road and made my way over.
Sitting down with my coffee, I pulled out my phone just as it began to ring. My heart sank as the name flashed across the screen. It was Deb. She hadn’t called for a couple of days. I felt so bad about lying to her. She had to be freaking out; her son was dying, and she had no idea where he was. How was that fair?
Before I realized what I was doing, I’d pressed answer. I held the phone to my ear and struggled to think of words to say that would make up for this.
“Seth? Is that you? God, please tell me he’s okay.” Deb’s voice broke as she began to cry.
My heart pounded. I was angry at myself, and angry at Andy for putting me in this position. “Deb, he’s okay. I’m sorry, he begged us to take him . . . I’m sorry.” Who cared if I was sorry? It didn’t fix things. It didn’t give her more time with her son.
“How is he?” She wept.
“He’s deteriorated. Some days he’s better than others.” It felt odd saying that, considering he didn’t have very long left. Somehow, I knew the better days were behind him now. I could only see things getting worse from here, but I didn’t want Deb driving upset.
“Oh, God.”
“He has a nurse looking after him, but he really needs more.” I hesitated. “He needs a doctor, or a hospital, but he won’t. You know how stubborn he is.”
“Please tell me where you are, Seth. Please, I need to see him. I need to say goodbye.”
I closed my eyes. I so badly wanted to keep my promise to him, but if he died without Deb getting the chance to say farewell, I’d never forgive myself. I had no idea what to do.
“Please, Seth. I’m begging you,” she pleaded.
“Millicent Beach,” I mumbled. “22 Standbury Lane. He’s having a wake tomorrow.” I didn’t mention it was fancy dress.
“A wake?” She gasped. “Oh, God, thank you, Seth. Thank you so, so much.”
I hung up. Had I done the right thing? He would probably hate me, but no more than I’d hate myself if I hadn’t told her. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly six in the evening. She wouldn’t get here until tomorrow afternoon, even if she left now.
There was no point in telling him today.
***
As I walked through the kitchen, I saw Em lying down out on the deck. Grabbing two sodas, I went out. She looked up as I approached. She smiled, her eyes red and swollen.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Not great.” She reached for the soda I held out to her and set it down beside her. “He finally let Marta call for a doctor.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the unopened can in my hands. That meant things were bad.
“Are you okay?” I said.
She shuffled over as I climbed onto the cream-colored frilly cushion beside h
er. Of course she isn’t okay. I closed my arms around her as she sobbed into my chest. My fingers gently stroked her hair as my lips brushed over her forehead.
***
We stayed out on the deck for the next hour. She had fallen asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her because I knew that she hadn’t been sleeping well. I studied her face. Her eyes were closed, the faintest of smiles present on her lips. Was she dreaming about Andy? Whatever it was, at least for a moment she would be happy.
I glanced inside. I could see Marta talking to a man in the kitchen. The doctor? It had to be. My stomach tightened. Things must be bad for Andy to have let her call the doctor. If anything, at least I felt as though I’d made the right decision in telling Deb. I just hoped she got here in time.
Em stirred and then rolled over. I gently eased my arm out from under her, covering her with a blanket. She snored softly and snuggled into the warmth. I stood up, careful not to wake her, and crept over to the door. Easing it open, I walked inside. Marta and the man both looked up.
“How is she?” Marta asked.
“Exhausted. Upset. About what you’d expect. How’s Andy?”
The look they exchanged said it all. That bad.
“All we can do is make him comfortable,” Marta finally said. “This is Mike Alson. He’s a doctor in town. You . . . might want to call his family, Seth.”
“They’re already on their way,” I said. My mouth felt numb, like the words were sticking to them as I tried to force them out. “I might go check on him, if that’s okay.”
“Of course,” she said. “He’s on morphine for the pain now. He might be pretty out of it.”
Walking into his room, I wasn’t prepared for just how bad he was. I sat down next to the bed and reached for his hand. He was so pale. Huge dark circles surrounded his eyes, and his cheeks were beginning to hollow.
At least he looks comfortable.
This was really happening: Andy was dying. There was no magical cure that was going to save him. He wasn’t going to get better. His time was up, whether we were ready to accept that or not.
I sat there, holding his hand until he suddenly squeezed it. My eyes jerked open and I saw him looking at me. Shit, I must have fallen asleep.
“Hey man. You’re awake,” I said, sitting forward.
He tried to smile, but ended up having a coughing fit. “You need to look after her,” he mumbled. He could barely keep his eyes open, the call of sleep was so strong.
“Of course I will.”
“No, I want to know you’ll be there for her. Really be there for her. Don’t make me say it, man.”
“She doesn’t want me like that. It’s you that she loves. And you’re dying.”
“No, please, Seth. I need to know she will be okay,” he mumbled.
“I’ll look out for her. You know I’ll be there for her.”
Chapter Seventeen
Emily
I knocked lightly on the door. Seth looked up as I walked in and smiled. I forced a smile back. Andy was sleeping, just as he had been all day. The morphine really knocked him around. When he was awake, he was delusional and confused. One moment I’d think he didn’t even recognize me, and the next he’d say something that convinced me he did.
Seth stood up, kissing me on the head as he walked past.
“I’ll be out there if you need me.” I waited until he had walked out before I made my way over to the bed. As I sat down, his eyes fluttered open. He stretched his fingers out, wrapping them around my hand. I smiled, blinking back tears.
"Sorry I snapped earlier," he mumbled.
I crawled onto the bed and into his arms, desperate to be as close to him as I could.
"It's okay." I closed my eyes and let him hold me. The feel of his fingers gently stroking my bare skin was almost enough to make me cry. I’d miss this the most.
Lying in his arms, his body up against mine, I took in the sound of each shallow breath. His skin was cold and clammy. I snuggled against him, trying to warm his body. Tears pricked my eyes. I wiped them away as they began to roll down my cheeks.
“Em,” he whispered in my ear, pulling me closer to him. “Don’t cry. I hate seeing you upset.”
“I’m sorry, I just . . .” There was nothing for me to say.
He kissed my cheek, his soft voice soothing me as he held me. “I’ll always be with you, Emsky. No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, I’ll be right there with you.”
“I don’t want to do anything without you.”
He chuckled softly. “Em, the world doesn’t stop turning just because I’m not in it.”
“My world does,” I whispered.
He kissed my cheek. “Come here,” he said.
I did, collapsing into his arms as they wrapped around me.
“You need to stop this. You aren’t dying, Em. You have to promise me that you won’t stop living just because I’m gone.”
I didn’t answer. He didn’t want me to give up, but I wasn’t sure if I could make that promise to him. I sighed and closed my eyes, pretending we were back home.
“You’ll never be alone, Em. Seth will always be there for you.”
“I know. But it’s not the same.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t love him like I love you.”
“He loves you.” He spoke softly, his words so gentle they almost floated past me unheard. Almost.
“I love him too—”
“No,” he muttered, “He really loves you. He’s been loving you for eleven years. Every day, just like I have . . .” He had drifted off again. Placing my hand on his chest, I watched it rise and fall. What was he talking about? Seth wasn’t in love with me. I would’ve picked up on that.
He’s just confused. There was no way that could be true.
“Come on Andy, stop messing with me.” I pressed my lips together, studying his face for a reaction.
And then I saw it: the way his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. It was only for a brief moment, but it was long enough for me to realize it wasn’t a lie. I laughed and shook my head. This couldn’t be happening. I turned and ran out onto the deck, bolting down the stairs and out toward the beach.
“Em, wait!” Andy’s voice carried through the house.
I ignored him and kept running, because I couldn’t handle this right now. My boyfriend was dying, and his best friend—my best friend—was in love with me? This wasn’t fair.
I was so angry with both of them, and I was angry with myself. Because deep down, no matter how much I wanted to ignore it, there was a part of me that was in love with him too.
Chapter Eighteen
Emily
He’s in love with me.
I felt so deceived. Like our whole friendship was based on one big lie. How could he have not told me that he was in love with me? And for such a long time?
I slowly began to piece together the last fourteen years. Every little action, every word spoken, had it meant something more than I thought it had? I pulled out my notebook. Wiping away tears, I opened it and began to read, desperate for any kind of positivity right now.
Homecoming dance, August, 2005
We hadn’t intended on going to the dance, because dancing sucked. Instead, we had an exciting night planned full of horror movies, popcorn, and Seth’s big-screen TV—until Seth’s mother insisted he take Cheryl Barmosh, the daughter of one of her friends, who had been dumped by her boyfriend the night before.
So suddenly I had a date with Andy, and nothing to wear. I sat down on my bed, almost in tears. The worst part was I had nobody to talk about this stuff with. Four years ago I wished my mom would stay out of my life. Now, I’d have done anything to have her back.
I think part of the reason I avoided things like dating, dances, and other girly things was because it hurt too much not having her around to share those milestones with.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
I looked up and saw Deb smiling at me.
�
��Yeah, I’m just . . .” I broke off as the tears began to fall. She rushed over, her arms wrapping around me. “I have to go to this stupid dance and I have nothing to wear.”
“Oh, Em. It’s okay. We’ll find you something.” She stood up, holding out her hand. “Lets go shopping.” I smiled and took her hand.
I’d been living with the Graysons since my parents had died. I had no other family, and had it not been for them I would’ve ended up in foster care. I owed them everything. Deb tried her best to be there for me, but she could never replace my mother, or mend the guilt I still felt over my parents’ death.
I stood in front of my mirror, bittersweet emotions racing through me. I couldn’t believe the girl staring back at me was actually me. The deep-green chiffon dress highlighted my curves, accentuating my figure. My hair was curled and pinned to the side.
Walking out into the living room, I felt my stomach twist into a bundle of nerves. Andy had never seen me in anything other than a pair of jeans. I wasn’t even sure he knew I was a girl. My heart leapt to my throat as he turned around.
His eyes widened as he saw me, his mouth falling open. I blushed at his reaction, secretly pleased that he obviously liked what he saw.
“Wow,” he muttered, walking over to me. “Is that you? Holy shit, Em. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, my face red. Deb and Karl stood by the door. She winked at me as we left and I smiled my thanks to her. As we walked out to his car, he took my hand. His fingers weaved between mine, and tingles shot down my spine.
Over the last few weeks, we had been getting closer. I’d convinced myself it was all in my head, that he couldn’t possibly see me as anything other than a friend, but the way he was looking at me right now? I wasn’t so sure . . .
“We’re here,” he said, turning off the car. He made no move toward the door; instead, he turned to face me. My heart began to race as he smiled, his lips pressing together. He looked like he wanted to say something. “Do you want to skip the dance?” he asked, his voice soft. Color flushed through his cheeks as he waited for me to respond.
Out of Reach Page 8
