by Belle Brooks
“Statuesque, got it.”
A soft laugh has Gem heading towards the same door John is about to stomp out of.
The slamming of the door causes me to jolt. Dying is a very strange thing. However, I think my little cupid will have a great time with these two before I’m out of here. John is going to need someone to lean on, and Gem, well, Gem is going to need an army of people to help put her back together. Maybe I have time to get those two in each other’s arms before I hit the checkout line. My new mission has started. I snicker at the thought.
The sound of the door reopening has my head swinging. Of course, I’m expecting to see either Gem or John, but I don’t. It’s my darling Willard. Placing my hands to the wheels of the wheelchair, I begin rotating them so I can get to him.
“Stay where you are, you stubborn thing. I’m coming.”
“Bring me your sugar,” I demand, causing him to flash a wide smile.
Willard’s smile leaps to my heart as he gets close enough to kiss me. He tastes like sweet candy. God, hopefully heaven will be just like kissing Willard.
The schedule in my phone alerts me that tomorrow I will have made eighteen weeks. I almost feel like we should have a party, even though I’m not much of a party animal these days. Looking at the most recent sonagraph image I added to the calendar alert, I sigh. I can’t wait for another picture tomorrow. Things have calmed down over the last five weeks…well, to me it has. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m content and resigned to the fact this is my destiny, or if I’m telling myself everyone seems to be dealing with things much better so as I can focus on the task at hand…to live for as long as possible.
Scanning my eyes across the calendar, there’s a picture of a cartoon marathon runner on Saturday’s square. To say I don’t feel blue at the thought of never completing the half marathon I trained so hard for is an understatement, but as I keep reminding Will, it is what it is. I can’t change what is happening to me, so I need to bury my disappointments and focus on the gifts I’m being given––my baby and more time.
Dropping the phone onto the bed, I go back to what I was doing, sorting through a mountain of my photographs. They are currently scattered over the entire king-sized mattress…all but a small area where I sit. So many memories. Time has sure gone fast. When I was a child I thought growing up was going to take forever and a day. Well, that was until I was fully grown. It’s silly really now in hindsight, being a kid was much easier and so much more fun compared to adulting.
Picking up a portrait photograph of Willard and me sitting by our now infamous tree, not long after Will’s family moved in next door, I can’t help tracing my fingers across the slightly faded colours before closing my eyes.
“My name is Willard Connors. What’s yours?” He was so confident, I was drawn to him like a mosquito to blood…I couldn’t help standing on my little feet and wandering the short distance across the paddock to where he now stood.
“Maybelline Keogh. I’m four,” I jeered, nodding my head just once.
“Well, I’m six years old, so this makes me the boss. I’m now in charge of taking care of you, Maybelline.”
“Okay, Willard.” I giggled with a slight and sudden shyness. Willard seemed nice, and I really liked the superhero shirt he was wearing. I loved playing superheroes, even though my sister, Lexi, didn’t. Maybe Willard would play superheroes with me if I asked him nicely.
“Maybelline, do you want to play a game?” He was not shy in asking. He was very forthcoming.
“I do.” I nodded swiftly with a smile bigger than the one I’d wear on Christmas morning.
“Well, get changed out of your dress then…you can’t climb trees in a dress.”
“Can so wear a dress.” I pursed my lips, planting my hands firmly on each hip.
“Remember, I’m the boss.”
“And I’m wearing my dress.” I poked my tongue at him. He quickly poked his tongue back.
Willard then laughed before he grabbed my wrist and held my hand. It was the first time he took my hand in his and I swear at least once a day from that day forward he would repeat this act.
“Do you want to play superheroes?” I hoped so hard he’d say yes.
“You love playing superheroes too?” His eyes widened and his lips tugged upwards.
“Very much.”
“Let’s go then, Super May.”
“Okay, Super Will.”
Together we ran down the long paddock without a care in the world as we fought villains who were trying to destroy the town of Wellington.
“What are you smiling at, babe?” Will asks, shifting some photographs so that he can sit down.
“Do you remember this photo?” I pass it over so he can look.
Watching the corners of his lips tug upwards, just as he did on the day we first met, causes my heart to gallop. I was very lucky to have grown up with the one I would love for the rest of my life.
“This was about a week after I moved here.”
I nod, placing my hand over the thin jumper covering my chest.
“Mum took it, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she did. She made us pose when we went to the park with her for the very first time.”
“She and her camera.” He tuts, shaking his head.
“I’m so glad she had it now, Will. Look at all these photos.”
Clambering beside me, we relive our youth, laughing and swapping stories back and forth…I love just being with Willard...his presence has always been enough for me.
“Hey, Will, do you remember what we played the very first time we met?”
He places his finger to his chin in thought and then smirks. “Superheros,” he proclaims.
“We saved Wellington that day.”
“And many more after.”
Picking up a small hardcover notebook I had laid on top of Will’s pillow, he asks, “What’s in this notebook? All your writings of how you loved me and were going to grow up and marry me one day?” He snickers.
Dropping my head, I wish it was…it isn’t. It’s my bucket list. Inside this notebook is the actual list of all the things I’d hoped to accomplish, as well as pictures I’d cut out of strangers completing the very things I had planned for myself. “Don’t open it,” I whisper, holding out my hand.
“Why?”
“It’s not important anymore.”
“I’m sure it is. Please let me look, May.”
I nod my head before closing my eyes. I don’t want to see Willard’s sadness when he uncovers this secret list, a list I’ve only shared with Gem, and realises it can’t be done anymore.
There’s silence. I’d expected a gasp, a hug or something…so far it’s quiet, so I peek out of one eye only to catch Will flicking the pages with a broad smile reaching his ears.
“Why are you smiling?” Confusion is written across my face. He only needs to direct his attention my way to see it.
He doesn’t, he continues flicking.
“Willard.”
“May, this is amazing,” he finally comments.
“Yeah, but it is for another life now.” I reach my hand out to take the notebook from him, but he doesn’t allow it and lifts it high out of my reach.
“We are going to do these things. Why didn’t I think to do something like this?”
“Say what, now?” I tip my head backwards in shock.
“We are going to mark off this list. Now, where to start…number one says run a half marathon. You were training for one. When is the half marathon you wanted to do scheduled?”
“Saturday,” I whisper. Has he lost his mind? I have bone cancer. I can’t run. I can’t even walk any lengthy distance. Hell, I’ve only just been allowed out of my wheelchair.
Jumping from the bed, Willard rummages through a drawer.
“What are you doing now?” I’m trying to get up so I can approach him.
Taking off his knee-length shorts before pulling his T-shirt over his head, he flashes me another rather
large smile and covers his now almost naked body with sports shorts and a singlet. Jogging across the carpet like he’s running the beach on a show our parents watched when we were younger called Baywatch, I laugh hysterically. Loon. He continues his overdramatised run until he opens the cupboard door and removes a dusty and quite possibly now mouldy pair of joggers.
“I am going for a run. I’ll be back in about an hour. Your mother is watching television in the living room, so you’re not alone. May plus Will equals an impending half marathon.”
“Will, I can’t run.” I shake my head whilst rolling my eyes.
“No. You’re not running. I’m going to push you in the wheelchair.”
“Willard, it’s twenty-one kilometres long. You’ll quite possibly die.”
“Good. Then I’ll be waiting for you when you get there, won’t I? Now carry on with your photo arranging or scrapbooking or whatever it is you were doing. I need to warm up these legs of mine.”
A kiss to my nose has Will making his way to the doorway. He flings his head over his shoulder and mouths, “I’d do anything for you.”
I squeal. I don’t know why I do. I’m guessing it’s because the excitement flowing through my veins is too much to internally control.
This squeal has Mum bolting into the room. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I can tell her heart is beating fast because her face is flushed and she’s breathing heavily.
“I’m okay. Mum, Will’s going to run the half marathon on Saturday and so am I.”
She shakes her head before her flushed skin pales and she mutters, “Over my dead body are you running a half marathon.”
I giggle in response. “I don’t have to use my legs. I have wheels and Will’s going to push me.”
Mum pauses for a moment. She’s deep in thought, trying to piece together what I’ve just told her.
“Mum.”
“This is perfect.” Mum demonstrates her excitement by wrapping me into a tight embrace before calling out, “Cliff, Cliff, get in here. May-Day is running the half marathon on Saturday. She’s running a half marathon.”
“So I’ve just heard.” He chortles, already standing in the doorway. “Well, you better get on to making lots of pom-poms, Lexis. We have some cheering to do.”
“And shirts, Mum. I want a special shirt for me and Will.”
“I have so much to do!” she screeches, releasing her hold before practically skipping out of the room.
Dad approaches wearily. “Slugger, I am excited for you, but you have to take care of my grandbaby, so you’re going to have to be very careful. I know it’s getting cooler now and a half marathon is run in the early morning, but we can’t have you overheated or overexcited.”
“Dad, I promise. I wouldn’t dream of jeopardising—”
“I know you wouldn’t. Looks like your old man will be running alongside you.”
“Dad.” I gasp.
“Well, if you can do it, so can I.”
I burst into tears at his confession. I love my daddy. He has always been my biggest fan in everything I’ve ever done growing up. I wish I could spend many more years having him by my side, cheering me on.
A long sleep this afternoon erased the headache brought on by all the sudden excitement early this morning. Dad cooked Shepherd’s Pie for dinner, my favourite, and after we watched Back to the Future, Willard and I called it a night. Lying in bed, I can still hear the faint noises from the television in the lounge room, so I guess Mum is busily working away on the sewing machine, making my requested shirts. She said the design will be a surprise, so I’ll have to wait until she is finished before I can see.
This afternoon, Mum took a trip to the fabric store and gathered all the bits and pieces she needed. Currently, my parents are staying in our apartment. At first, Willard didn’t take too kindly to the idea, but when Dad pointed out the necessity for another person to be in the house in case something terrible were to happen, he came around. Dad has always had a way of getting through to anybody. He has a very calm nature and wise way about him.
A paid carer was still off the cards in Willard’s mind, so that left Mum and Dad. I don’t know why he is so opposed to a carer…well, I do…if the unthinkable was to happen, he doesn’t want me to be with a stranger at the end. I love Willard for always wanting to put me first, but maybe a carer wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Dad and Mum will go home on Sunday for a week, then Gem and Lexi will come to stay. As John-John pointed out on Monday when this plan was put into place, “We grew up as a team and we are walking together to the end as a team.”
God, I’m blessed.
Placing his watch on the bedside cupboard, Willard rolls over and kisses my shoulder. “Are you happy, May?”
“So very happy. Thank you for making this possible for me.”
He smiles broadly before brightening the lamp light. “Let’s go through this list and see what we can get completed.”
“I’d like that,” I mumble through a slack jaw.
“Are you sure?” He must now sense my fatigue.
“Positive.”
Climbing from the bed, Will turns on the main light fixed to the roof above the bed before he collects my navy-coloured notebook, bringing it back with him.
Clearing his throat, he opens the cover, and I slide under his arm, laying my head against his chest.
“Number one, run a half marathon. We are now in the process stage and it will be marked off come Saturday.” He pauses briefly. The pride in his voice has my skin tingling. “Number two,” he continues, “do a kind act for someone less fortunate than myself. That one will not be hard to eliminate now, will it, May? You have the kindest heart and you could already cross this off a million times.”
I roll my eyes before slapping his chest.
“Ouch. Okay, we could serve Sunday dinner at the soup kitchen for the homeless.” Tilting my eyes upwards, I nod in compliance. His idea is perfect.
“Number three, ride in a hot air balloon. Shouldn’t be too hard to organise this one. Number four, go to America and play under a Willow tree with my grown-up version of Willard.” He chuckles. “You and your love for willow trees.”
I grin. It’s true. I love everything about their pictures. It would be a dream to see one in life.
“This one we can’t do, babe, but I can draw you a willow tree and hang it to the wall. I’ll have sex with you under it when we are allowed again. How does that sound?”
“Couldn’t be any more perfect.” I laugh before kissing his bare chest.
“I should get a job doing this.”
I slap his chest once more. “No having sex with any other girls under willow trees except for me.” Doom drops my stomach instantly and even though I haven’t even felt a glimmer of sadness until this minute, my body deceives me and tears spring from my eyes and onto Will’s chest.
“I’m so sorry, Maybelline,” he whispers before placing the notebook on the bed and then wrapping me in his arms.
“I’m going to miss you, Willard.”
“I’m going to be lost without you, Maybelline.”
When my tears finally call a truce, I hear Will humming “The Way You Look Tonight” by Frank Sinatra. It’s the one song that has always calmed me and wrapped me up safely, protecting me from hurt and fear. But when Will’s mouth finally opens and he begins to sing, he creates his own version of the song.
“Someday, when I grow old, and I’m all alone, because my little May’s not beside me…I’ll still know that she loves me for life...”
I press my fingers to his lips, stopping any more words flowing from his mouth in song and try to add my own lyrics back…
“Someday, when my Will grows old, and he’s not alone, I will know that he’s stronger…because I still loved him for life.”
Will looks at me and smiles with obvious unease, but we don’t stop, he continues with the next line… “One day, when my May comes home, and I’m not alone, because I finally went and foun
d her…that will mean I lived out my life…”
Trying to think of something to sing back causes my throat to burn. I shut my thoughts off and just allow my heart to answer.
“One day, when my Will lets go and he fights no more, he will find me, but until then our child is his life.”
Will sings not another word after this. Instead, he chokes up before composing himself enough to continue his previous humming. I lie listening to his heart now pounding at a runner’s pace against my ear and when my eyes seal shut, I welcome much needed sleep.
“What are you doing, Willard?” I was completely overtaken with a thousand fairies sprinkling pixie dust throughout my core from the changing of his expression.
“I’m not exactly sure, Maybelline.” His eyes were wide, yet more fierce than I’d ever seen them before. Placing a hand to each of my hips, he stepped closer, our bodies now only a mere centimetre apart. His breath flashed hot against my face. His breathing was wild in comparison to how he claimed air only moments ago.
“Will…”
“May…”
I studied him, but now I saw Will differently than I did yesterday. He had grown into a man...when did we get here? What was the defining moment that declared we were no longer children?
Arching my back from the shiver brought on by his hands travelling the length of my sides, I took one large breath that seemed to be trapped deep in my throat, hanging there in anticipation. When he cupped his hands gently to either side of my face, I couldn’t seem to shift my eyes from his gaze and without warning, or my permission, I snaked my arms around him. Willard had grown so much—his waist, although still small in size, now resided under a much wider chest.
“Can I, May?”
“Can you what, Will?” My words shook.
“Can I kiss you, May?”
Closing my eyes, I allowed my head to tilt forwards. “I’ve never kissed a man, Willard,” I confirmed, too scared to open my eyes once more.
“I’ve never kissed a woman either, May.” His mouth was close to mine when he said this, and although I tried to control my erratic breathing, I couldn’t.
My mind was overloaded with conflicting thoughts before telling me to step away. You’re not ready for this today. But before I could, Will’s lips skimmed mine and everything went silent, even the sound of my heart beating.
