by Ivy Smoak
Mercy Hospital was only a few blocks away. So I started running. Hoping I wasn’t too late. But I was never the one with hope. That had been my mom.
***
I was somehow still standing after running to the hospital and bypassing the slow nurse in the emergency room who didn’t realize that I was in an emergency. But whatever energy I had left dissipated as soon as I walked into my uncle’s hospital room.
Some kind of mask was over his face and tubes were attached to his arms. His breathing sounded labored despite the equipment. He looked so pale. I swallowed hard.
“Uncle Jim?” I said softly. “I’m here.”
The only response I got was a labored breath. His eyes were closed. The nurse said he was resting. But I wasn’t sure why doctors weren’t swarming around trying to figure out what was going on. The school receptionist said he couldn’t breathe. That he’d coughed up blood. I saw a trickle, dried and black, on the corner of his mouth.
I pulled a chair closer to his bed and sat down. “Uncle Jim?” I slipped my hand into his and tried not to cringe at how cold his skin was. “Wake up, okay? I need you.”
As the minutes ticked by, I felt calmer. I was used to sitting in hospital rooms waiting. And waiting didn’t necessarily mean bad. Waiting for a clean bill of health for my mom. Waiting for the results of the experimental treatment. Always waiting. If something was seriously wrong, there would be no waiting. He’d be in surgery. Or something.
Besides, my uncle was healthier than ever. He’d lost weight since I’d moved in with him. He was eating more vegetables than sweets. The only thing that had seemed off was his cough. And even that had gotten better. It was just a cold. He wasn’t supposed to be lying here. Not for a cold.
“Wake up,” I whispered. “Please wake up.” I squeezed his hand.
“Are you Jim’s niece?”
I turned around. There was a doctor standing there, staring at me. I hadn’t heard him come in over all the beeping of the machines.
“Yes.” I dropped my uncle’s hand and stood up. “Is he okay? Why isn’t he waking up?”
He looked down at his clipboard. “We gave him something to help him rest.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “So he’ll wake up soon?”
“In a few hours. We’ve given him some morphine for the pain.”
“When can I take him home?”
“Home?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“But it’s just a cold. He needs rest. And hot soup.” I laughed, but it sounded forced.
“It’s not a cold.” The doctor put the clipboard under his arm. “I just got off the phone with his oncologist. He fought it for years, but he stopped his treatment months ago. It wasn’t working anymore.”
“Fought what?” I didn’t know what an oncologist was. But it sounded fancy and I’d learned that any fancy medical name usually meant something horrible. “He just has a bad cough. I tried to get him to see a doctor, but he insisted it was nothing. So…it’s nothing. It’s nothing, right?” I didn’t even believe my own words.
“He has stage IV lung cancer. I’m so sorry. I figured you knew.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “So get him back on his treatment.”
“That’s not how it works. It’s too late.”
“It’s not too late. He’s here right now. Give him the treatment.”
The doctor shook his head. “Like I said, he’s resting. I’ve given him morphine for the pain. It’s the best we can do. I’d recommend that you start making arrangements.”
“Arrangements for what?” My brain couldn’t process his words. I refused to. This doctor was clearly a lunatic that had escaped from the crazy part of the hospital. Was there an asylum at Mercy? I couldn’t remember.
“Funeral arrangements,” the doctor said perfectly calmly, like his words weren’t killing me.
I shook my head.
“Is there someone else we can call?” he asked. “Your parents? Or other relatives?”
I shook my head again and turned back to my uncle. And I heard his labored breathing. I saw the blood in the corner of his mouth. I thought about all the weight he’d lost. He wasn’t healthy. He was sick. He was dying. “How long does he have?”
“A few days at the most. More likely a few hours. I’m really sorry.”
I didn’t hear the doctor leave. I couldn’t hear anything over my uncle’s labored breaths and my own sobs.
Chapter 31
Monday
“Hey, kiddo,” my uncle said.
I lifted my head off the rough sheets of his hospital bed and looked up at him. He’d taken off the oxygen mask. His breaths sounded more even. I could have sworn we’d just fallen asleep during a movie. That we were back home on the couch. Except for the beeping. And the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed.
I didn’t know how I had any more tears left. But they started to spill down my cheeks all over again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I stopped treatment a few months before your mom passed away. When you showed up…I didn’t want to burden you with more bad news. I thought I had more time.”
“But even before that. The doctor said you fought it for years. You never told us.”
“You and your mom were going through enough.”
“You shouldn’t have had to do it alone.” I wasn’t sure what made me hurt more. The fact that he’d gone through all those treatments all by himself, or that he’d sacrificed the last few months of his life to take care of me.
He squeezed my hand.
“Isn’t there something else we can try?” I asked. “My mom tried all these experimental treatments.”
“I’m tired of fighting, kiddo. I’m so tired.”
“Okay.” I tried to stop crying. I tried to be strong for him. But I couldn’t. I could feel myself breaking into a million tiny pieces. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head. “I get why your mom was able to hold on as long as she did. You’re a good kid, Brooklyn. You’re worth fighting for.”
So was he. I would have given up anything for him to keep breathing. Anything so he wouldn’t leave me too.
I held his hand until he took his last breath. Until his fingers turned cold. Until the nurses pulled me away.
Chapter 32
Wednesday
Mrs. Alcaraz took me in. She’d signed papers agreeing to be my guardian before my uncle passed away. Kennedy had thought those papers meant they were getting married. But my uncle wasn’t planning a new beginning. He was planning for the end. An end that I was the only one who hadn’t seen coming. Kennedy and her mom had both known my uncle was sick. But unlike her mom, Kennedy didn’t know my uncle had stopped treatment. She thought he was getting better. She was as heartbroken over my uncle’s loss as me. I heard her sniffling as she tried to fall asleep every night. And I didn’t have it in my heart to be mad at either of them.
I glanced over at Kennedy in the bed that we shared in her small room. Her breathing had slowed. I slipped out of the bed, trying not to disturb her. I tiptoed out of her bedroom and to the front door. Mrs. Alcaraz snored. I could hear her through her bedroom door. I was already growing used to their sounds. Like I had been here all along. But I didn’t want to forget about my uncle. I hadn’t known him long, and I wasn’t ready to let go. I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
I quietly slipped out and walked down the hall to my uncle’s apartment. Most everything inside was already packed up in boxes. There’d be a new tenant by the end of the month. But until then…coming back was my only solace. The apartment still smelled like him. And if I closed my eyes tight enough, I could still picture him at the kitchen table doing crossword puzzles.
I opened my eyes. The table was gone. The memory just as fleeting. I pushed open the door to my old bedroom. The floor was covered in flowers in various states of decay. Apparently Matt thought the right bouquet might make me happy. So there were roses, lilies, daisies, tulips, chrysanthemums, and more I d
idn’t know the names of. My room was like a nursery. Except I wasn’t watering them. The thought of scouring Kennedy’s apartment for dozens of vases wasn’t at the top of my mind. So the roses were dry. The daisies wilted.
But then there was Matt. Sitting on a sleeping bag in the middle of my room where my bed used to be. He’d come every night. Like clockwork. And he was brighter than any flower. He made my heart smile, even if I couldn’t make my lips mimic the feeling.
There were never any words. Just flowers. I was comforted by the silence. He didn’t offer a lame “I’m sorry.” He offered to hold me as I fell asleep. And that was what I needed. Him coming each night spoke louder than any words.
I sat down next to him on the sleeping bag and let my head drop onto his shoulder. His arms gave me comfort. I didn’t care if our relationship was a secret. I didn’t care about any of it. All I knew was that I didn’t feel so broken in his arms. They were strong enough to hold me together. And I needed that. I needed him.
But I eventually had to say something. We’d fought right before I found out about my uncle. I’d been so mad at him. But now it all seemed…so insignificant. “I don’t want you to ruin your friendship with James,” I said.
“I don’t care about any of that. I just want you to stop crying.”
I wiped away the tears on my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “Then tell me something happy.” I looked up at him.
“This is my favorite part of the day,” he said.
“Mine too.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I rested my head back on his shoulder. “No.” My voice sounded so soft that for a second I thought he hadn’t heard me.
“But the funeral’s tomorrow. Do you know what you’re going to say?”
“That I thought I lost the most important person in my life three months ago. That I never thought anyone could come close. But that losing my uncle hurt just as much as losing my mom. That he gave up living the last months of his life to take care of me. He was selfless and kind and funny and smart. And he loved me more than I deserved. Because I pestered him a lot. Mostly about my birth father. And after my uncle died, I knew I’d lost the hope of ever uncovering my birth father’s identity. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Because I just lost the only father figure I ever wanted. And I wished he’d let me in sooner. Because he was worth fighting for.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Those were his last words to me. That he understood why mom was able to hold on for so long. Because I was worth fighting for.”
“I wish I’d gotten to know him better,” Matt said. He kissed the side of my forehead. “It sounds like he was an amazing man.”
“He was.” The past tense made my eyes grow watery again. “You know one of the main reasons I pestered him about my dad so much?” I looked up at Matt. The bruise on his eye was mostly faded now. His chocolaty brown eyes stared back at me with so much warmth. “I was worried that we might be related.”
Matt smiled. “You could have just asked. My parents have been happily married for over twenty years. They even make out in public. It’s weird.”
I laughed. I was pretty sure it was the first time I’d laughed in days.
Matt’s smile grew. “You know.” He lifted up my hand. “Maybe one day you’ll be a Caldwell.” His index finger and thumb ran down my ring finger. “When I make you my wife.”
I laughed again.
“What, you don’t believe me? All your firsts are mine, remember?” His lips lightly brushed against mine.
“You want to be my first husband? Hmm…”
“Your only husband,” he said.
“You’re ridiculous.”
But he wasn’t looking at me like he was kidding. “I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere, Brooklyn. You’ll never lose me.”
My eyes started tearing up again.
“No, don’t cry again,” he said with a laugh and pulled me into his arms.
But for the first time this week I wasn’t crying because I was sad. I was crying because I was happy. I hadn’t really lost everything. I still had Kennedy and Mrs. Alcaraz. And I had Matt. I knew I had him. He wouldn’t lie about this. Not now. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat. I willed it to keep beating for me. I willed his heart to be as strong as his arms. You’ll never lose me either.
***
My hands gripped the podium so tightly my knuckles were turning white. I sniffed, trying to force my last lines out. I looked out at the pews that were filled with people from our school. Felix. Cupcake. I recognized so many faces. And they all came out because they loved and respected my uncle too.
Even Mr. Hill, who apparently was friends with my uncle. He had given a nice speech before mine. The first thing I’d thought when he got up to the podium was that I was surprised he wasn’t making me read his eulogy for him. I was pretty sure I even smiled.
And then there were the Untouchables in the back row. All four of them lined up in their crisp black suits. Their parents all in attendance beside them. I stared at Mr. Caldwell and Mr. Hunter for just a moment. Their sons were the spitting images of them. And none of them looked like me. Not that it mattered. None of it mattered.
I locked eyes with Matt. It also didn’t matter that Matt wasn’t sitting in the front row with me. It didn’t matter that his friends didn’t know I was his. Because I knew it. And I knew he’d come tonight and help me through this. And he’d keep coming until I was whole again.
Matt gave me a nod, encouraging me.
I took a deep breath. “I just lost the only father figure I ever wanted,” I said, my voice shaky. “I just wish he’d let me in sooner. Because my uncle was worth fighting for.” I made my way toward my seat between Kennedy and Mrs. Alcaraz. They both hugged me as I sat down.
“Mi amor, that was a beautiful speech,” said Mrs. Alcaraz. “Jim would have been proud.” She kept her arm around my shoulders as the priest began speaking again.
After the priest said his final words, Mrs. Alcaraz and Kennedy stood at the front of the church with me as people paid their respects. Each hug and shake of the hand made me feel empty.
“I know you hate people saying they’re sorry,” Felix said. He leaned forward. “So instead…this really fucking sucks, Brooklyn.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks for putting that so eloquently.”
He smiled back. He gave me a quick hug and I felt a little less empty.
“Hope to see you at school again soon, newb.”
I nodded even though I wasn’t sure that I was allowed to go to Empire High now that my uncle was dead. I wasn’t a scholarship student. And I didn’t have a penny to my name.
When Matt got to the front of the line, I was surprised when he leaned down to hug me.
I put my hand on his chest. “What about Isabella?”
“She’s not here.”
She was probably one of the only students that wasn’t.
“Your speech was beautiful. Just like you.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
I grabbed his hand before he walked away. “I actually need some air.”
“Do you mind if I steal her for a second?” he asked Mrs. Alcaraz. Even though he snuck into my old room every night to see me, he’d already introduced himself to Kennedy’s mom. He’d even been over for dinner. I was pretty sure he liked the empanadas more than my butter-less popcorn.
Mrs. Alcaraz nodded. “Sí, sí.”
Matt smiled and led the way down the altar. We walked outside onto the front steps of the church, hand-in-hand.
I took in a huge gulp of air. One thing I’d learned after my mom’s death was that I was still able to breathe, even on the days it felt like I couldn’t. I took another deep breath. “I miss him,” I said.
Matt squeezed my hand. “I know.”
We stood like that, staring at the busy street for a moment. The cars honking and tires squeaking had somehow become normal. Soothing even.
�
�You’re shaking,” Matt said. “I left my suit jacket inside. I’ll go grab it for you.”
I reluctantly let go of his hand and sat down on the steps. The cement was cold on my stockinged thighs, sending another shiver down my spine.
“Did you mean what you said in your speech?”
I looked up. A man in a navy suit was standing a few steps down from me, staring at me. He had salt and pepper hair and the distinguished look of all the other students’ parents inside the church. But I had no idea why he was talking to me.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
He pulled off his suit jacket. “You’re shivering.” He draped it over my shoulders. His jacket didn’t feel any warmer than the cold autumn air. I shivered again. “What did you say about my speech?” I asked.
He smiled. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That last bit. About you no longer caring about meeting your father.”
I pressed my lips together. “Yes, I meant it. My uncle was a wonderful person.”
The man nodded. “I’m sure. And you were living with him, is that correct?”
I looked over my shoulder, hoping Matt would return. This had to be the weirdest funeral conversation ever. Other than someone making dead baby jokes. “Um…yes.”
“Interesting. No other living relatives at all?”
Was he trying to rub it in? “No.”
He nodded. “Just that ethnic guardian, then?”
The way he said ethnic made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Her name is Mrs. Alcaraz.” I stood up. “I’m sorry, I have to get back inside.”
“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you, Brooklyn.”
I stopped. There was only one reason why this man would have heard about me. I only had two friends at Empire High. And this definitely wasn’t Kennedy’s dead father. “Are you Felix’s dad?” Unlike his son…this man was not funny. If anything, he was socially inept.
He smiled again. It still failed to reach his eyes. “You really don’t know who I am?”
I slowly shook my head. Was I supposed to?
“Have you ever picked up a paper?” he asked with a laugh.
