Today Only

by D. Love

  His kisses grow more intense. I’m lost in his masculine scent, warmth and passion. He gently lowers himself on top of me, his weight partially supported by my legs. I touch his chest, marveling at the muscles. Weeks ago, in the garden, I remember wanting to explore the definition of his body.

  He runs his tongue along my jaw to my neck, while one of his hands traces lightly up my thigh. My legs start to shake out of excitement, and my body feels like it’s on fire. His face returns to mine, and we gaze deeply into each other’s eyes.

  "Rye." He whispers my name, as if it was more precious than breath. "I lo –"

  "Oh. My. God." The third voice isn’t welcome.

  Jett jumps up, startled, and I look over to see my sister standing in the doorway, her eyes as big as baseballs, and her mouth hanging open like a zombie

  "Good grief, Katy," I exclaim. "Don't you know how to knock?"

  Katy blinks, grins and dashes off. "I’m so telling Mom!"

  "Really Katy?" I yell after her. "I am twenty five, not sixteen!" I run after my sister, thoroughly humiliated. I can’t even look at Jett.

  "By the way, Jett, nice tat!" Katy shouts over her shoulder.

  Chapter Ten: Jett

  I can tell Rye is mortified, but I am shocked and helpless to come up with any sort of explanation or make a joke or something. My heart is still beating like a jackhammer. I never dreamed anyone would walk in on us! I can hear the girls, giggling and talking out in the living. What the heck do I do now? Walk out there like nothing happened?

  I hear the front door open.

  "Rye, is there any reason you’re running around in your panties?" her mother asks. "If I’m not mistaken, isn’t that Jett's truck outside?"

  The sisters burst out laughing.

  I can’t imagine being any more embarrassed.

  "Oh, you’ll love to hear the reason, Mom!" Katy says.

  Finally, I decide the only thing I can do is man up and face them. I walk into the living room. All three of them are staring at me. It looks like someone has peeled a strip of duct tape off the faces; every last one of them has turned bright red. I did what any man would do if he were in my situation.

  "Hello, ladies," I say with far more poise than I thought possible. "I’ll be out in a minute." Then I smile and make my way to the bathroom. I take my time, as much to let the desire in my blood cool off as give them time to recover. When I step into the living room again, the girls are settled down and are making a list of everything we need. Rye still has no pants on, I notice with more than a little satisfaction.

  "Is you father coming tonight, Jett?" Dee asks.

  "I'm not sure, but I’ll give him a call later."

  We are all going to the grocery store today to get everything needed for Emily's graduation party tonight. Rye appears a little peaked, so I go to the kitchen to grab her something to eat. Dee insisted that I make myself at home, and I know this house as well as my own after spending the past few weeks here. I do, however, wonder if she’s going to revoke my invitation after this morning.

  I snort at my thought and return from the kitchen with a piece of fruit for Rye.

  "Thank you," she says, almost shyly. She looks at the pear with disinterest.

  I can tell she is going to have a hard time finishing it. She seems to be losing part of her appetite lately. She makes an effort, though, then stands.

  "You all ready?" she asks.

  Katy is trying to stifle her giggle while their mom appears quizzical.

  "What are you all looking at?" Rye demands.

  "Rye, would you mind putting on some pants?" Katy manages then bursts into laughter.

  Rye turns pink and stomps off towards her bedroom, while the rest of us laugh. Dee shakes her head, and I’m wondering if my own face is red, because it feels pretty hot.

  Once Rye is ready, we hop in my truck and head to Sam's Club first. Dee buys the store out, apparently preparing for a party large enough to feed half the free world, then decides that we should go to Hannaford next to buy fresh produce. A cheerful bunch, we’re in line waiting to pay, talking about Emily and how much of a big milestone this is for her, especially since she’s on the verge of tween-dom.

  Dee falls quiet, watching the elderly couple in front of us. Sadly, the couple is trying to decide what grocery items they need to put back in order to have enough money to pay their bill. With a swift motion, Dee hands the cashier her card and asks her to apply their bill to hers.

  The elderly couple turn to Dee in silent surprise, before the women grabs Dee in a tight embrace.

  "Thank you," she says, tears on her cheeks.

  "Not a problem," Dee replies kindly. "Maybe one day you can pay it forward, too."

  This is who Dee is. Whenever she can, she’s performing an act of kindness for others. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her help others less fortunate than she is. One day, not too long ago, we were in a department store where a young couple was buying school clothes for their children. Their card was declined, and they were forced to leave without the merchandise.

  Dee followed them to the parking lot and dropped some twenties on the ground, then asked them if they dropped the money. The couple was shocked but honest and said it wasn’t theirs. Dee insisted it was and now, they could go back and buy their children clothing.

  I still remember the look on their faces. The woman started crying, and Dee said the same thing to her that she did to the elderly couple: maybe someday you can pay it forward.

  I wave to the elderly couple as they push their cart away, touched by Dee’s thoughtfulness once again. She and her daughters have the best hearts of anyone I’ve ever met.

  The day grows quite serious when we return home. Everyone is assigned a set of tasks to ensure we make Em’s graduation party the best ever. I’m dutifully chopping green peppers, when someone knocks on the door. The women are all busy, so I answer the door .

  Several boys from the school stand out front, and in the driveway is a truck carrying enough chairs and tables for a small army.

  I shake my head. Dee is really going all out. I think I know why she wants this graduation party to be one that Em remembers forever, but admitting it to myself is way too much right now. I’m doing everything in my power to help keep Rye positive and eating well, in the hopes that the change in her lifestyle will help her heal.

  Mind over matter, right?

  I run out to the trucks to help the boys unload and then set up everything in the backyard. The set-up is perfect, and Dee has even bought small decorations for each table. I look from the party area to the garden, where Rye and I spend time together. I’ve never seen any place so happy as the backyard today.

  Once we are done setting up, I lead the boys inside, where Dee has a pitcher of sweet tea with glasses sitting on the bar, waiting for us. She smiles at the boys and pours them all a glass of tea and then turns to me.

  "Where’s Rye?" I ask as she pours me tea.

  "I believe she went to lie down before the party," Dee answers. There’s a note of forced cheerfulness there, and I set down my glass.

  Turning on my heels, I go to Rye’s bedroom and push the door open. She’s lying on the bed, more fragile today than yesterday. She’s lost weight from her lack of appetite, and there are dark circles under her eyes at all times now. The stint in her arm has left her bruised from wrist to shoulder. The fact that I can see her deterioration fills me with something that feels like fear. Or panic.

  I cover her with a blanket. The faintest moan slips from her lips. She’s in pain, despite the neat lines of pill bottles on her nightstand.

  Dee sees what I see. It’s why she’s putting so much effort and money into this party. If Rye continues this way, she won’t be alive to see Em graduate from sixth grade.

  Fury fills me, like a rubber band snapping against my heart. I’ve been trying hard to ignore what was in front of me. No amount of organic food can fix what’s wrong with Rye. No amount of praying or hope.

&nb
sp; I leave the room and run outside to the backyard, needing to release the pain and anger roiling inside me. I look for something that I can hit and find the tree by the garden. Before I know it, I’m pounding it. Punch after punch lands against the trunk. I’m trying to drown out the pain within me – that I can do nothing about! – with physical pain. Soon I realize I’m yelling.

  "Why? Why, God, Why!" My fists hurt, but it’s not enough to distract me. When God and all the angels don’t answer my hoarse cries, I begin begging. "Please don’t take her from me." With every punch I have to wipe away tears. "Can you hear me? Don’t take her."

  Nothing is working. My heart is pounding. My legs shake and, my fists are bleeding. It’s nothing compared to the depth of pain in my soul, crying for help to save her.

  Soon I feel arms grab my shoulders then wrap around my chest, pinning my arms to my side, so I can’t hit the tree anymore.

  "It's Mark," Katy’s husband says. "Man, you gotta pull yourself together."

  Exhausted, I slide to my knees.

  "Tell me, Mark, how do I do it?" I whisper, stricken. "How do I watch her life fade every day, but not hurt this way? How do I continue to breathe, when I know she takes one less breath? Why is this happening to someone so precious? How will I make it like this?"

  "Jett, we live for today."

  Mark’s words penetrate the chaos in my head. My thoughts fall silent, listening.

  "We make one memory at a time and savor it," he continues in a soft voice. "You have to pull yourself together for Rye, for her memories. We can save Rye by making happy memories for her to take with her. That way she will never be lonely or sad. No matter where sweet Rye goes after this life, she will carry those memories with her. "

  The thin veil I kept between myself and the reality of Rye’s fate lifts. I sob in Mark’s arms for a few minutes. He doesn’t move or flinch. He stays with me every once in a while, reaching up to wipe his own tears. I understand suddenly that – as much as I hurt – I’m not alone. Everyone around Rye is working towards the same goal of making her last days on earth also her best.

  I finally draw in a shaky breath and raise my head to see Dee standing near us. I understand the sadness in her gaze now. I can no longer pretend that everything will be okay. Dee, Mark, Katy – all of them are so strong. I admire them even more now that I understand just how much pain they selflessly put aside to help Rye.

  "Let’s make memories, Jett," she says quietly. Wiping her eyes with a tissue, she turns and walks into the house. Mark helps me up, and we return to our tasks, setting up the party.

  I don’t like it, but I guess this is how life is. One minute, I feel like I’m breaking in two. The next, I’m decorating for a party, continuing on. Life has its own agenda. I just wish I understood what it was. And why agony like this is a part of it.

  Chapter Eleven: Rye

  I watch Jett through my window. First, he walloped the tree, and now, he’s crying in Mark’s arms while Mom stands over them. I hurt so much for him, for all of them.

  Mom has always told me that everything in life happens for a reason. But for what reason is Jett’s fate bound to mine? How is it fair to him to experience my pain with me, when he has a chance to live a life without it?

  Mom returns to the house. I slip back into my bed, pretending to be asleep. I don’t want Jett to know I saw his breakdown, because I know he would never forgive himself. He’s a gentleman to the core, but he’s got his pride, too.

  I believe this is just what he needs. Sometimes it’s good to cry and get out all those emotions. He’s been strong and loving, beyond anything I ever expected. I know how much he cares for me.

  I hear Mom shuffle quietly into my room. She rests her warm hand on my arm. She’s always gentle with me, as if I’m as delicate as a flower petal, and she’s afraid to hurt me.

  Opening my eyes, I smile up at her.

  "This is going to be a good day," I tell her.

  Her worry fades. "Well then, Rye, let's get this show on the road."

  "Sure, Mom," I reply. "I’m going to the bathroom and will be right there."

  She’s upbeat again when she leaves my room. Mom is so beautiful when she smiles, and she’s naturally a cheerful person. It only took her thinking that I am doing well to bring back the smiles.

  Guests soon begin to arrive. Jett and Mark are leading all the kids out back to enjoy the games they have all set up for them. By popular demand, Jett is running the grill, while Mark is relegated to the role of assistant grill-master. It’s widely known that if we let Mark grill, we’ll be calling the fire department before the night is over.

  I’m helping to keep the buffet line filled with plates and utensils when Jett slides up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

  "What is your beauty today?" he asks.

  I look around and spot Em. She’s grinning at us.

  "Emily is the beauty I see today," I say. "What about you?"

  "Love," Jett replies. "I see so much love here tonight."

  The thought of him being able to see love was amazing, and I smile. I find my mom with my eyes and watch her with Angie in her arms, laughing at something the Axell's – her neighbors – are saying to her. She looks alive and happy, almost like her heart is free from burden right now.

  I haven’t seen that look since the doctors found my tumor, about a year and a half ago. At that point, Mom had demanded that Em and I move in with her, until I recovered. I agreed, because I wanted to prepare Em for my passing. I knew then that extending my life through chemotherapy treatments was the only hope there was. There would be no healing from this, and even treatments weren’t going to buy me years. Months, maybe.

  Mom was like Jett at first, hopeful the worst-case scenario wouldn’t happen. It didn’t take more than one trip with me to the doctor for her to admit that there was probably going to be no recovering. Since then, even when she smiles, her gaze has been haunted and her heart burdened by the truth.

  Emily has the evening of her life. I’m thrilled for her and proud of my mom for arranging such an awesome celebration. The party ends not too long after nightfall. Mom heads into the house to check on Angie and Em. Mark, Katy, Jett and I stay behind in the backyard to clean up.

  We finish, and then gather a few chairs around in a circle to relax. The night is warm and the stars bright. It’s gorgeous; even the weather cooperated for Em’s party.

  Mark is telling us about how Angie said Daddy, I love you today. Katy watches him with tenderness and admiration, like he’s her dream prince. They have always been completely in love with each other. I love that my sister found someone like Mark. Before the tumor, I had hoped to find someone to grow old with, too.

  Jett starts talking about something funny that happened at work. Mark laughs through the entire story. I’m content and fatigued, not really paying attention but happy to see everyone so smiley.

  Mom soon returns with a blanket and throws it over me, like she did when I was a child. I thank her with a smile. She sits down with us, and the conversation takes off. Sitting around and laughing with my family almost makes it seem like life is normal. Mom jokes about having the boys make her some lassos for Nashville to hand out as gifts to her friends, so they can go out and rope themselves some sexy cowboys.

  Mark shoots off that Mom is going to wind up arrested down there.

  "You better leave some cash for bail and travel for Katy and I to come down there to rescue you," he adds.

  She giggles like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard.

  "Better hope she even calls us, since she’ll be down there in cowboy land. I hear they have strip searches and all," Jett says in an exaggerated country twang.

  "Ewwww!" Katy and I chorus.

  After a few minutes of laughter, Katy starts telling us how she and Mark are thinking of having another baby, but Mark is being a stubborn mule about it. My mood darkens a little. I’d never thought about whether or not Jett wants children. What if he does? H
e can’t, if he stays with me.

  As if he can read my thoughts, he glances at me with a smile.

  "I only have enough time for Emily," he replies. He begins detailing what kind of shotgun he’s going to purchase for her dating years. He is determined to be the scariest dad around.

  I listen, humbled. It’s amazing how a few words can leave such an impact. I’ve been in love with the man sitting next to me almost since we first met, probably from the night he went to the father daughter dance with Em. Unfortunately, I am having a hard time summoning the courage to tell him. I never want to be unfair to him or make him feel obligated to me.

  I can feel his love for me as well, even though he has yet to say the words. Sometimes saying nothing at all carries more meaning than actual words. The way we gaze at each other sometimes in the garden or over Em’s head as we watch a movie together. It’s in his eyes and in how he takes care of my whole family. What an incredible man.

  My body is tiring. I rest my head on Jett's shoulder. It’s wonderful listening to the laughs of my family, like a lullaby. Slowly, my eyelids grow heavy. My last thought before I doze is how peaceful life is in this very moment.

  Sometime later, I feel myself being lifted. I open my eyes briefly to see Jett looking down at me. I give him a smile and then scrunch my eyes together to pretend as if I am still sleeping. It might’ve fooled him, if I didn’t let a giggle escape my lips.

  He chuckles but continues to carry me. Bending, until his mouth is at my ear, he whispers, "Someone is getting a little spoiled, huh?" then kisses my cheek.

  We make it to my bedroom, where he drops me like a sack of potatoes my on my bed. Startled, I stare at him. He’s wearing the evilest smirk ever. He jumps on my bed like a mad monkey or like Em when she gets excited about something and goes a little crazy.

  "What has happen to you, Jett?" I shout, bewildered. "Have you lost your mind?"

  He starts trying to act like a vampire, raising his hands straight out in front of him.

  "I am going to suck your blood!" he declares in the worse accent I have ever heard.

  "Jett, vampires don’t lift their arms like that! Only zombies!" I tell him. "Which are you? A vampire or zombie?"