The day my leave was approved, I thought she was going to choke on her water when I burst into Alyssa’s room late in the day to tell her that I wasn’t going back to the office. Alyssa, bless her heart, assured Melanie that having me home didn’t mean we didn’t want her there, assuming that’s why she reacted the way she did.
Now, with Jacob and Alyssa both napping, there’s nothing for either one of us to do. I sit on the couch, pretending to surf the web on my iPad while Melanie bustles around the kitchen, making a grocery list. No doubt, once she has that list compiled, she will rush out the front door so she can get away from me. I accept full blame for the return of the awkwardness between us. It was wrong of me to revisit the past for my own selfish reasons. Not only has it created a chasm between us, it’s left me with greater guilt than I’ve ever felt because admitting that I feel anything for Melanie feels like a betrayal to Alyssa.
“Hey, brother,” Braydon whispers when he walks into the living room, making me jump off the couch. How in the hell did he manage to walk through our front door and sneak up on me? “Whatcha looking at?” he asks, glancing at the iPad that is still sitting on the home screen. Realizing that the device in my lap is only for show, his gaze travels to the kitchen, where Melanie is hunched over the counter.
“Don’t,” I warn him. While he and Melanie are getting along now, he hasn’t made any secret of the fact that he doesn’t agree with me allowing her to stay on as Alyssa’s hospice companion. He’s not wrong to tell me that I’m doing more harm than good by having her here, but I don’t need to hear it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, sitting down opposite of me on the couch. “Alyssa is getting weaker every day, and now I walk in here and you look like a lovesick fool, trying to be sly about watching the object of his affection. That’s fucking low, even for you.”
“I told you to leave it be, Bray,” I warn him again. Melanie raises her head, her brows furrowed together. Obviously, I’m not as quiet as I thought I had been. Lowering my voice, I continue, “You couldn’t be more off-base about your assumptions. And no, I’m not going to go into the details with you, so drop it.”
Braydon holds his hands out in front of him, surrendering this fight. He turns to look down the hall and I shake my head to answer the question he’s not asking. It’s morbid, but it feels as if death watch has been going on for about a week now. Alyssa’s health declined rapidly after the trip. She’s sleeping most of the time, unless the pain radiating through her body wakes her. This morning, she breathing was ragged when I checked on her. We’ve both researched what will happen when it’s getting close to time, despite every warning her doctors and Melanie have issued. We’re not stupid men, we know it won’t be long now.
“Just be careful, okay?” I look at my brother and see genuine concern in his eyes. “I know how much you loved Melanie. I’m pretty sure you probably still do. But I also know how much Alyssa means to you. You can’t use Melanie as a crutch after Alyssa dies. It’s not fair to you, to her, or to your wife’s memory.”
“I get it,” I assure him. I peek over my shoulder and see that Melanie has disappeared from the kitchen. “I think I fucked up, Bray.”
It’s not often that I admit to doing something wrong, probably because I’m normally anal about thinking over every situation before acting. Except when it comes to Melanie. If I wasn’t so consumed with everything going on in my life, the stunned look on his face would be amusing.
“Then fix it,” he says matter-of-factly. What he doesn’t know is that is exactly how I put myself where I am now. I tried to fix something that, in retrospect, wasn’t as broken as I thought and now it is. I spend the next half hour going through everything Melanie and I talked about in the café, needing the wisdom of my best friend and brother, as much as I tried telling him to mind his own business. He’s the one person who understands that Melanie Erickson is my kryptonite.
It’s almost time.
I blink my eyes open to see who is talking to me, only to find that I’m alone in my room. When I try to sit up, I curse my body because not only does it hurt like hell, it leaves me winded. There’s no reason sitting up should be considered physical exertion, but my body is shutting down.
The words that haunted my dreams are on a constant loop in my mind. They were so clear, I would have sworn someone had been sitting in the chair next to the bed, whispering directly into my ear. I reach for my cell phone and text Melanie to let her know I’m awake. It’s more civilized than yelling for her, which I’m not sure I have the energy to do at this point. She peeks her head around the door, quickly masking the pity with a plastered on smile.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks cautiously, grabbing my next dose of pain medication off the dresser.
“Like I’m dying,” I sigh, knowing it’s not an expression at this point. It’s almost time. That fucking voice is starting to annoy me. “Can you sit with me for a while?”
I’ve come to terms with the fact that the rest of my life can be measured in days or maybe even hours, not weeks or months at this point. There’s nothing I can do to change it and in case there really is a heaven, I figure cursing God now won’t earn me any brownie points. I’m not sure you can ever be ready to die, but seeing as it’s inevitable, I cried until there were no more tears. With that out of my system, I promised to do what I can to make life after I’m gone easier on my husband and son. I can’t put off talking to Melanie any longer.
“I need to ask you for a huge favor,” I say, my voice barely audible thanks to the crushing weight that has taken up residence on my chest.
Melanie leans in, encasing my hand in both of hers. This woman’s strength amazes me. Even if I thought, at any time, that I could do her job, situations like this would send me running for the hills. How can she walk into a family’s home, knowing that they will be suffering when she leaves? How can she remain detached from the patients she sits with day in and day out?
“Only if you stop joking about death,” she replies, her tone serious.
“No can do,” I laugh weakly. “Unless, of course, you can figure out a way to make it so I’ll live until I’m eighty.”
Melanie closes her eyes and I know she’s trying to hold back her tears. It amazes me how this woman, who I have only known a few months is so affected by my condition. Again, I find myself wondering how she goes through this repeatedly and can still be a functioning adult. I would be a full-blown alcoholic if I were in her shoes, using the drinks as a way to dull the pain every day.
“Okay, we need to be serious for a minute.” She opens her eyes and scoots her chair closer to me, nodding once she’s comfortable.
Before I get to the scary part of our discussion, I reach beside the bed, pulling up a shoe box filled with letters and cards. I’ve spent the better part of two weeks writing notes to my son for each birthday that I will miss, his high school and college graduations, his wedding day and the day he becomes a father. Pouring my heart out to him, imagining the man that he will grow into was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but he needs to know that I love him and even death can’t change that. Next, I grab a teddy bear that I plan to give Jacob later this afternoon.
It’s almost time.
When I try to tell her that I’m going to let Jacob know that this is his magical bear that will allow him to talk to me, even when I’m not here, I fall apart. Melanie hands me a tissue to wipe my nose when my sobs turn into a full-blown ugly cry.
“How can I say goodbye to him?” I wail, not for myself but for my son. Every night, he tells me that I’m going to get better and I’ve let him believe that. If he knew the truth, there’s no way we would be able to get him to go to sleep at night for fear something would happen while he sleeps. I won’t allow my son to live with a lifetime of regrets, knowing that he never got to say goodbye to me, so tonight will likely be the last time I see my son.
Melanie can’t talk over her own sobbing. She looks to the ceiling,
trying to regain her composure. This time, I’m the one handing her a tissue because she’s a hot mess right now.
“I need you to take care of them. I’m not scared for me, but if I think about how Jacob and Xavier are going to move past this, I’m terrified.” I know I need to do this, but it doesn’t ease the churning in my stomach. My body shakes as I work up the courage to continue speaking. This is the first, and likely the easiest, of the conversations I need to have today but all I want to do is sleep.
What I’m about to ask her is something I’ve known I needed to since the night after she and Xavier spent the day walking around Nassau. Seeing the way she masked whatever pain she was feeling when she saw my son was like a beacon pointing to the answer to my one remaining fear. The way her brown eyes lit up as she talked about taking my little boy on a “date” melted my heart. That was also the day all the pieces of her puzzle fell into place in my mind.
“Melanie, I need you to promise me that you will be there for them,” I beg, tears falling fast enough to create stains on my t-shirt. “I’ll be fine, as long as I know you’re here for them.”
My first assumption is that she wants me to be there in the days and weeks after she passes. But then, my mind drifts back to Christmas, when she asked me to make sure Jacob knows she’s with him. As she waits for me to respond, I get the impression she isn’t talking about immediately following her death or sporadic visits. She’s asking me to be a part of their lives in her absence.
My knuckles turn white from how tightly I’m holding the arms of the chair. If I don’t, I’m afraid I will run out of the house and never return. Months of lies are exploding around me as Alyssa pleads with me to take care of her husband and son when she’s gone. She sees me as this amazing friend to her in her time of need, someone she can trust, when the truth is that our entire friendship is based on a foundation of lies.
“Alyssa, I need to tell you something,” I say quietly. I have to stop for a moment, trying to clear the sour taste from my mouth. My head tips forward, allowing my long brown hair to create a shield so Alyssa can’t see the emotion in my eyes. I want, more than anything, to promise to help Xavier and Jacob any way I can, but I can’t do that with secrets between us.
“What’s up? I’m sorry, maybe it’s out of line for me to ask you to come back here after I’m gone,” she cries, turning to look out the window. It’s the beginning of March and the snow is finally melting. It’s stupid, but as I watch her staring into the backyard, I wish it was a bit later in the year so the world wasn’t in this in-between stage where everything is shades of brown and gray.
“No, it’s not that.” I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “There’s something you need to know about me and Xavier.” Now, I have her attention. She turns back to me, shifting her body so she’s laying on her side. “We didn’t meet the day I took your case. He and I--”
Alyssa holds up her hand to silence me. I wonder if I’m making the wrong decision. Right or wrong, I pray Xavier doesn’t walk in because I want to give him a warning that she knows the truth about our past. “You don’t have to say anything about you and Xavier. I know.”
I’m not sure which confuses me more, her telling me that she knows or the softness in her voice. It’s as if she’s trying to ease my pain while I’m preparing to cause hers. I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable. My hand moves to my chest, covering my racing heart. At this point, I figure it’s best to see what she knows before saying anything else. “You know?”
“Sweetie, I’ve known for a while.” This time, she’s the one reaching for me. I take her hand, resting it on the edge of the bed. “I started to wonder that first day Braydon stopped by. After that, I started paying attention and it became clear that you’re the one.”
I’m the one?
If she knows, how does she not hate me? No matter whose fault the demise of our relationship was, I can’t believe she didn’t kick my ass.
“That’s why it has to be you. I can’t think of anyone else who will love them as much as I do, but I know you love them both.” I feel as if we’ve been thrust into some parallel universe as she continues to speak. Where there should be anger and hatred, I hear only kindness in her voice.
“Alyssa, you have to know I didn’t take the assignment in order to come back into his life,” I blurt out, as much for my benefit as for hers. “And I’ve wanted to tell you since that first day, but every night that I went home without saying anything, the harder it became. I didn’t plan any of this,” I cry.
When Alyssa reaches out both of her arms to me, I crawl beside her on the bed and we hold one another as we bawl. “I know you didn’t, Mel. And when I realized that you were that girl, I’ll admit, I wished you weren’t such a good person. I’ve spent a whole lot of years calling you some of the nastiest names in the book, but then I got to know you and I couldn’t hate you.” We both let out weak chuckles at her admission. I totally understand what she’s saying because I felt the same way from the minute I found out that Xavier had moved on until I walked through her bedroom door. “And I do understand why you didn’t tell me. I don’t think I would have if our roles were reversed. Then again, I probably would have overdosed you out of spite, so maybe I should thank you for that as well.”
“Yeah, killing patients really doesn’t bode well for longevity in my field,” I say weakly. Dammit, I’m going to miss this woman. She is the true friend to me, willing to see past the fact that I once loved the man she’s married to. Beyond that, she seems to get that I still love him, but in a different capacity than I once did. “And I promise you, I will do everything Xavier lets me to make sure your guys are in a good place.”
I lay with her until she falls back to sleep. Listening to the rattling in her chest as she breathes, I force myself to get out of the bed. I need to get Xavier and Jacob so they can be with her.
Melanie and Braydon are out in the living room, watching a movie with Jacob. I knew as soon as Mel came out of the bedroom that we’re getting close. She is better at it now, but when she’s distressed, she sucks at hiding her emotions. Now, I’m staring at Alyssa’s chest, watching the shallow rise and fall. The sun setting is the only indication I have that it’s been hours since I came in here.
“Alyssa, I need you to wake up, baby,” I beg her selfishly. As much as she needs to rest, I need this time with her. If she doesn’t wake up, I’m terrified that she never will and we’ll never get to say goodbye to her. “Jacob will be going to bed soon and you always read to him.”
Tears glide down my face and I wipe them with the back of my hand. I don’t want the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes to be me having a breakdown. I lean in, bringing her frail hand to my lips. She looks so small lying in front of me. “Please, baby, we still need you.”
Alyssa’s eyes flutter open but she doesn’t seem to focus on me. “Xavier?” Her voice is raspy and weak. “Where’s my baby? I need to tell him goodnight. It’s time.”
Until those last words, I thought she had heard me and wanted to read to him. Now, I don’t hold back the emotions as I realize what she’s telling me. She wants me to walk out to the living room and bring our son to her so she can say goodbye to him. We’ve talked about this, but I guess I somehow ignored the fact that this moment was going to come. How am I going to walk out there and look my little boy in the eye, knowing that he’s about to see his mother for the last time?
“Okay, Al,” I whisper, leaning over to kiss her forehead. She squeezes my hand before I turn away from her.
Melanie curls into Braydon’s side when she sees me walk into the room. He nods his head, letting me know he’ll take care of her, that I need to focus on my family right now. I whisk Jacob out of the room before he can see the way Mel’s body is heaving as she sobs.
Chapter 9
After Alyssa passed away and all of the necessary paperwork is completed to close my assignment as her companion, I know it's time to make a decision. I love my job. But this time, I
allowed myself to get too close and it crushed me. It was ridiculous of me to think I could work with the Ross family without becoming attached, but I allowed my stubbornness to silence the voice that told me to ask for reassignment. I sealed this fate for myself at the beginning of November.
Dear Mr. Harris,
Please accept this message as notification that I will be leaving my position with CompCare effective April 15th.
I appreciate the opportunities that you have given me over the course of the past four years, but at this time, I feel it is prudent that I explore other opportunities.
If I can be of assistance in the training of a new hospice companion, please let me know.
Sincerely,
Melanie E. Erickson
A stronger woman would have walked into Dan Harris's office and faced him as she put in her notice. I barely have the strength to get out of bed in the morning and shower, much less prepare myself to go through the torture of watching another patient fade away. I didn't spend thousands of dollars on nursing school to watch people die, I did it to help people. When I first took the position with CompCare, I told myself that I would be fine because I was helping my patients maintain a quality of life, however short the quantity.
That worked, until I watched one of the strongest men I knew fall to his knees as we realized Alyssa had taken her last breath. Until I had to pronounce the death of a woman I had grown to love as a friend. Until the moment Xavier reached out to me, begging me to give him a little more time before calling the funeral home. Until the first time I held a little boy as he cried himself to sleep because he misses his mom.
Fragile Bonds Page 8
