by Marie Landry
I parked my car behind Nicholas’s truck, and walked toward the house. Movement from above caught my eye; I looked up at Nicholas’s bedroom window and noticed the curtains flutter as if someone had been there a moment before.
I waited a minute longer to see if there would be any more movement at the window, but when nothing happened I jogged the rest of the way up to the house and rang the doorbell.
When there was no answer, I began to feel an inexplicable panic surging up through my chest. “Nicholas!” I called desperately. “Nicholas, please, I know you’re in there!” I rang the doorbell again, and after a few seconds, I could hear slow footfalls inside heading toward the door.
The door creaked open and Nicholas stood there, wrapped in a wool blanket, his hair disheveled and his face pale except for the dark purple shadows under his eyes. His bloodshot eyes gave the distinct appearance of someone who had been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my pleading voice shaking. I was sure my knees would give out at any moment, and the feeling of panic rising inside me refused to subside even with Nicholas standing right there in front of me.
Nicholas just stared at me for a moment before opening the blanket and holding out his arms. I collapsed against him and he wrapped the blanket around both of us, his arms encircling me and holding me close to his body.
He felt thinner, his belly even flatter than usual and his ribs pressing into my torso. I could feel an unnatural heat radiating off his body, and his heart pounded in competition with my own, which felt like it would leap from my chest any second. I knew down to my bones there was something seriously wrong. I could feel it in every pore of my body as he held onto me like a lifeline.
When I pulled away to look up at him there were tears running down his face, and the panic that had finally begun to subside crept up again in my stomach and chest, making me feel sick.
Miraculously, over the deafening roar in my ears, I heard Nicholas say quietly, “Come in and have tea with me.”
Tea?! I wanted to scream. You look like death and I feel like my lungs or my heart or both are going to explode and you want to have tea?
I took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the hysteria threatening to rise, snakelike, inside me. “All right,” I said in a barely controlled voice. “Let me make it though, you go sit down.” I was afraid he was going to fall over right there in the front hall.
He didn’t even try to argue, but merely turned and went to sit in the living room while I headed to the kitchen. As I filled the kettle and set it on the stove, I used those few minutes to collect my thoughts. Getting hysterical isn’t going to do any good for anyone, I thought, my ability to be rational returning. You don’t even know what’s wrong yet. It could be nothing.
But in my heart I knew it wasn’t nothing, and I was going to need those last few moments of sanity before finding out the truth.
When the water had boiled, I poured it into the old ceramic teapot that once belonged to Nicholas’s mother, adding a bag of herbal tea I found in a canister on the counter. Knowing Nicholas liked his tea strong, I took a few extra minutes to find the wooden tray the Shaw men kept stashed beside the stove with their baking sheets. I arranged the pot, two large mismatched mugs, the bowl of sugar, and a couple of spoons on the tray, and made my way out to the living room.
I was unable to stop the rattling of the cups caused by my unsteady hands as I placed the tray on the coffee table. I poured the tea and when I handed Nicholas his cup I noticed his hands were shaking as much as mine were.
He took a small sip of the steaming brew before setting it aside on the end table. I stood and watched him for a second before taking my own cup and easing myself into the chair across from him.
“Emma…” He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. When he opened them again, he looked straight at me and I felt a cold shiver of dread run up my spine. “I’m sick, Emma.”
The hysteria threatened to bubble up inside me again. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Maybe he had been so ill he didn’t even realize how much time had passed and how everyone who loved him had been worrying themselves into a near-frenzied state.
My voice was amazingly calm as I said, “I know, baby. Are you feeling any better?”
He laughed, a hollow, eerie sound that had my stomach clenching painfully. “No, I mean I’m sick. Not the flu, not a bug that’s going to go away in a few days or even a few weeks. Emma…the doctors say I have leukemia.”
The shock was like a physical thing, taking on a life of its own. A jolt ran through me and I began to shake so hard my mug fell from my fingers and onto the floor, where it shattered into pieces. “Damn it,” I said, sliding from my chair on legs made of jelly, and kneeling on the floor.
“Don’t.” Nicholas leaned forward and grabbed my hands as I reached to pick up the jagged bits of porcelain. He shook his head once, a quick, jerky movement. “Don’t.”
Tears blurred my vision as I looked up at him. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? He pulled me onto his lap where he wrapped his blanket around both of us again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now. The minute I opened the door today and saw the worry and fear in your eyes, I knew I should have told you as soon as I found out. I just…I’ve been so scared, Emma. It’s been like a bad dream, and I kept hoping I would wake up and it would be summer again and life would be perfect. That I’d be healthy and…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.
He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I know this changes things. If you…if you…” He broke off, his voice quavering.
“If I what, Nicholas?” I said, leaning back and trying to force him to meet my gaze.
“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, I’ll understand,” he said quietly, a single tear running down his cheek. His jaw clenched again as he wiped the tear away angrily.
My own jaw dropped in disbelief and I blinked tears from my eyes. “You can’t be serious,” I said, my voice echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room as shock turned quickly to hurt and anger. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, hoping next time I spoke I wouldn’t sound like I was on the verge of hysteria. “Nicholas, I would never leave you in a million years. You’re it for me. Don’t you know that? I love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”
His eyes finally met mine, the pain melting into disbelief and finally into something else, a mixture of hope and love and all the other things I was so sure he’d been feeling. “I love you, too,” he whispered. “I have since the moment I first saw you sitting on top of that hill.”
He kissed me gently on the lips and leaned his forehead against mine. One look, one kiss, and the words I’d been waiting so long to hear were all it took for my anger to dissipate.
“I just didn’t want you to feel…I don’t know, obligated, I guess,” he said. “I have to remind myself sometimes that we’ve only been together a few months, because it feels like forever to me. I know you came here for yourself and you weren’t expecting to meet someone and fall in love.”
“But I did,” I said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to be here for you, for whatever you need.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and when they reopened, they seemed clearer, brighter. “The doctors don’t know how bad it is yet. They’re still running tests. I’m supposed to hear back tomorrow.”
“It might not be that bad then, right? You never know. People recover from cancer all the time,” I said, unsure of whether I was trying to convince him or myself.
“Emma…” he said slowly, his gaze steady on mine, his expression pained. “My mother had leukemia. My mother died from leukemia.”
I swallowed audibly, my suddenly dry throat making a clicking noise that seemed to echo in the room. I had no idea what to say, although a thousand possible responses ran through my mind. That won’t be you, Nic
holas…it can’t be you. They’ve made medical advances in the last decade. Everyone’s different. Each person responds differently to treatment. You won’t die…you can’t die. What actually came out was, “Where’s Sam?”
Nicholas sighed, and I could have sworn I saw relief in his eyes, like maybe he was glad I wasn’t saying empty words of comfort with nothing to back them up. “He got called away this morning. He tried to tell them he couldn’t go, but I guess there was some kind of emergency. I told him he could leave, that I’d be fine. I planned to call you today anyway to finally tell you what’s been going on, so he felt a bit better knowing that.”
I couldn’t stand the thought of Nicholas all alone in his big house with nothing but his thoughts and worries. “I’ll spend the night,” I blurted without really thinking. “I…I can sleep in the spare room. That way you’ll have company, and if you need anything I’ll be right in the next room.”
“You don’t have to stay,” he said, laughing quietly.
“Hello, did you not just hear me tell you that I love you? Of course I have to stay. More than that, I want to stay. I’ve missed you so much I didn’t know how much more I could stand.”
He pulled me in close and wrapped the blanket around us tighter. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to figure out a way to tell you what’s been going on, but I just couldn’t face it. It’s like somehow saying the words would make it really true. I realize now how stupid and selfish that was, and how much I needed you with me to make this all right. I guess I just didn’t want to worry you, and I didn’t want to make you feel trapped just because I’m sick. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I’ve felt completely empty without you, I just didn’t know…”
I made a soothing shushing noise, shaking my head. “I know. It’s okay,” I whispered, nuzzling his neck with my face. “I’m not going anywhere, Nicholas. I promise.”
*****
That night, after calling Daisy to fill her in, I made dinner for the two of us, and we ate at the small kitchen table. It felt odd; I was used to working side-by-side with Nicholas, enjoying the steady stream of chatter and laughter between us. Even though I was the one who refused his help and told him to relax, I missed the way he would spontaneously grab me at some point and spin me around before kissing me.
But that night Nicholas sat at the table wrapped in his blanket, silently watching me as I moved around the kitchen chopping vegetables and checking the meat on the stove. He would smile weakly at me whenever I turned to look at him, and my heart would ache a little more each time.
As I set plates of shepherd’s pie on the table and sat down, I asked Nicholas if he was feeling any better.
“You must be the best medicine possible. Since you got here I feel better than I have in days.” As if to punctuate his words, he raised a heaping forkful of food to his mouth and closed his eyes in appreciation as he chewed.
I smiled at him, even though I was sure he was just being his usual sweet, gentlemanly self. I kept a close eye on him through dinner, and as he ate, I noticed his skin wasn’t quite so gray, and his eyes were a bit brighter.
When we were finished eating, we moved out to the screened-in back porch. Nicholas sat silently beside me, his face turned toward the river in the distance. The water had transformed to pink and purple swirls from the reflections of the sunset. As I looked at Nicholas, all the emotions I felt for him flooded through my body: love, pride, possessiveness…fear. I was scared of what was going to happen to him—to us. I wanted to be there for him through everything, but what if I wasn’t strong enough? What if my love for him wasn’t enough to get us through this?
Without taking his eyes off the river, Nicholas reached over and took my hand, twining his fingers through mine. For an instant I wondered if he had read my mind and this was his way of telling me everything would be okay. Then he looked at me and smiled softly, that beautiful smile that always melted my heart, and everything else faded away.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, his voice hoarse. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, then held it against his cheek.
I couldn’t speak. My throat was so tight I was amazed I could even breathe. I smiled and nodded at him and he nodded back, his eyes full of understanding.
The temperature was dropping quickly, turning the cool day into an even cooler evening. Nicholas got to his feet slowly, stopping in front of my chair to pull me up. “Let’s go in.”
I could see Nicholas give a little shiver every once in a while, so I started a fire in the living room hearth and we sat on a pile of cushions we tossed on the floor.
“Look at this,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “You’re already taking care of me.”
I chuckled and curled into the contours of his body. “That’s what you do when you love someone. You take care of each other. I know you’d do the same for me.”
He pulled away slightly and looked into my eyes, suddenly serious. “You know I would do anything for you, don’t you, Emma?”
I was so taken aback by his sudden change in tone and expression, I just sat there staring at him. Finally I said, “Of course.”
“Because I would.” He pulled me in close again and I could feel his heart racing. “Will you promise me something?”
“Anything,” I whispered, my throat tightening again. His tone was beginning to frighten me.
“I want you to promise me that if I don’t make it through this—”
“Nicholas!” I cried, shoving away to look into his eyes. “Don’t talk like that! You don’t even know how bad it is yet. This could be easily treated.”
He shook his head. “I know, and I’m hoping and praying that’s the case. But if it’s not, if this is more serious than we think and something happens to me, I want you to promise that you’ll carry on with your life. Never forget everything we’ve taught each other over the past few months about life and living it to the fullest…and most importantly, about love.”
“I could never forget. And I’ll never have to forget, because you’ll always be here to remind me.” My shaky voice was a rough whisper. I didn’t even realize I was crying until he reached out and gently wiped my face with his hands.
“Promise me, Emma. And I’ll make you a promise in return.”
I inhaled deeply. If it would make him feel better, I’d say anything and mean it. “I promise,” I said, choking on the words.
“Good.” He nodded his head and I could feel his body relax, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. “And I promise you that if I make it through this, I will be there for you for the rest of our lives. If you’ll have me.”
I could feel my brows drawing together in confusion as I looked up into his face. “I don’t understand.”
“If I beat this thing, I want you to marry me.”
The air rushed from my lungs, leaving me momentarily paralyzed and speechless. We had known each other a matter of months and he was practically proposing to me. And yet, somewhere amid my breathless shock, it felt right. I knew that no one else in the entire world could make me as happy as Nicholas did.
“I know we’re young,” he said when I didn’t respond. “But I feel like I’ve already spent an entire lifetime with you. When I picture my future, there’s not a moment that doesn’t include you. It’s you that I travel the world with, start a family with, live peacefully and blissfully with. I know my own heart and mind, and I know you do, too. If you think we’re too young, we can wait as long as you want, but I want you to know where I stand. What my intentions are.”
I buried my face in his chest, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. I wanted to jump and scream and dance around because I was in love and had found the man of my dreams, someone I didn’t think even existed outside of fairytales. But at the same time, that dream man had just been diagnosed with cancer.
“I am young,” I said slowly. “But you’re right about me knowing my own heart and mind. I did
n’t until I came here and met you. People who say that anyone our age can’t possibly understand what it means to love and be committed have obviously never felt what I feel for you right now.”
I paused because I wanted so badly to break down and sob. The fear of what would happen in the coming weeks and months, coupled with the fear of losing him, was almost overwhelming.
When I couldn’t continue, Nicholas seemed to understand. He caressed my hair gently, his breathing slow and steady, his heart beating rhythmically against my chest, while my own heart felt like it was trying to leap from my throat.
Nicholas kissed the top of my head. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore tonight,” he said. “Why don’t we go up and I’ll get the spare room ready for you.”
I checked the fireplace to make sure the flames had died down, then we walked up the stairs holding hands. As we passed his bedroom door, I stopped him. “I changed my mind.”
“About what? You don’t want to spend the night?”
“No, I do,” I said, heat rushing to my cheeks. “I just don’t want to sleep alone.”
His furrowed brow smoothed and a slow smile spread over his face, lighting his features for a brief moment. “Okay. You don’t have to.” He opened his bedroom door and I followed him inside.
“I can give you a shirt or something to sleep in,” Nicholas said, opening his closet door.
“Sure, thanks.” As I looked around, I realized I had only been in Nicholas’s room once before, and I felt suddenly awkward.
His enormous bed with its shiny dark wood frame was rumpled and unmade. The rest of the furniture in the room—bedside tables, a dresser, a bookshelf, a desk and padded chair—was made of a rich, highly polished wood that I guessed was chestnut. I recognized the style and was almost certain Nicholas had made it all himself.
I turned back to look at him as he walked over with a large green t-shirt, but instead of handing it to me, he dropped the shirt on the bed and cupped my face in his hands. “I love you so much, Emma. It feels so good to finally be able to say it out loud.”
