by C. M. Newman
CHAPTER TWELVE: MITCH
Saturday afternoon, Vince stood at his kitchen counter writing a check. When he walked into his living room and handed it to his brother, Mitch, he earned himself an affronted look.
“I don’t want that,” Mitch said, standing slowly. Sometimes it was hard to believe that twelve years separated the men in age, as they were built almost identically except for the half an inch that Mitch had on his older brother. They even had the same blue eyes and the same basic brown hair, though the younger man’s wasn’t greying yet. Really, the thing that distinguished them from a distance was the beard Mitch let coat his cheeks. Vince had always been a little jealous of it. He’d never let himself grow more than a bit stubbly at work.
“Take it, please,” Vince said when Mitch didn’t reach a hand out. “It’s for flying out here.”
“I know what it’s for,” Mitch said testily. “I don’t need it. I just want to know what’s going on that you’ve got me flying out here in the first place when we’ve hardly talked for three years. What’s wrong?”
Vince couldn’t stall any further. Mitch’s bottle of beer was still untouched. “Sit back down,” Vince said quietly, waiting until his brother lowered himself to the couch again before he took the recliner.
“Where’s Charlie? Jenna’s, you said?”
Vince nodded. “Just for a little while. I didn’t want him around when I talked to you. But we can go pick him up afterward so you can see him before you fly back.”
“Sounds good.” Mitch rolled his eyes when Vince didn’t speak further. “Well, can we get to the point now?”
“Mitch, I’m sick.”
One would never mistake the pair for close brothers. But it was a substantial difference in age, plus a sizable distance, that kept them from having a close relationship, not some sort of underlying hatred. They loved each other just about as much as any other siblings did. So it was with deep, genuine concern that Mitch’s jaw dropped. “Sick? With what?”
Vince thought he’d been through this conversation enough times before that he would be able to make it through with dry eyes, but the utter fear in his little brother’s voice evoked a myriad of emotions—his own fear, guilt, remorse, anger—that combined in an effort to make him cry yet again. Thankfully, it was an effort he could thwart for the time being. “Pancreatic cancer,” he said in a mumble, folding his hands in front of him, not looking his brother in the eye. However, he saw Mitch run a hand through his hair and flop back into the couch after a few moments of processing this information.
“Cancer?”
“It’s inoperable, spreading. The best they can do is chemo and radiation to keep it at bay for a little longer, but it’s…” Vince choked on the words he’d spoken so many times already. What was it about Mitch that was getting to him? He supposed it had something to do with wishing he’d spent more time with him, kept his promise to get to know him better the past few years. The situation with Mitch was akin to the one with Charlie, in that Vince had a chance to make up for that now if he tried, but it was different in that Mitch was an adult, understood the finality of death, understood how fast time could go by. The men had watched their parents eventually succumb to illness. Mitch knew what it was all about.
“How long?”
“Six to eight months.”
Mitch sounded like he was barely breathing when he said, “Well, that’s…wow.”
“I’m sorry,” was all Vince knew how to say.
“For what?” Mitch asked incredulously, suddenly re-energized.
“For not being there as your brother, for not trying harder to keep up with what’s been going on in your life.”
“I’m more to blame for that than you are,” Mitch said. “I promised we’d…reconnect or whatever, and I didn’t do a thing to make sure that happened.”
“I was in on that promise too. Besides, I’m the big brother. I’m supposed to…check in on you and make sure you’re doing all right, at least.”
“Stop.”
“I’m serious, Mitch—”
“Vince, stop. I’m fine. At least, I was until now. Do you really think you’re going to improve your…I dunno, quality of life, by making yourself feel guilty?”
“This isn’t about me, Mitch. This is about the people I’m leaving behind,” Vince went on stuffily. “When I go, I’m gone, and I’m hopefully at peace. You’re all still here. And how I’ve treated the people I love means a lot to me, even if I haven’t always tried very hard to do the right thing.”
“There’s nothing they can do?” Mitch asked, switching gears. “No clinical trials for new drugs, anything?”
“Mitch,” Vince said sternly, finally turning to his brother. “Listen to me. This is it. It’s spread too far already. The oncologist said they usually catch this type of cancer too late to do anything about it. It’s got one of the lowest survival rates.”
“How low?”
“Twenty percent make it past a year because it’s caught so late it the game.”
“Twenty percent? That’s…that’s not a lot, but it’s one out of five, Vince.”
“That’s the average over everyone. I’m stage four. The way I see it, I’m lucky to get six to eight months.”
“Okay. Okay. What about Charlie? What’s gonna happen to him?”
“He’ll be with Jenna, and you can see him at least a couple weeks a year, of course. I’ll make sure of that. I know you guys aren’t best friends but I’ll put it in my will. I won’t let the fact that you don’t get along get in the way of you seeing Charlie,” Vince said simply, his heart breaking more with each step his brother took as he now paced across the living room.
“That’s not what I meant,” Mitch spat. “I meant how’s he gonna move on?”
“He’ll…he’ll cope, Mitch. He coped with Kate and he was far closer to her than he ever was to me.”
“Yeah, well, he wasn’t old enough to understand when Kate died. And he wasn’t old enough when she died to remember her very well now. But he’s going to remember this.”
“You don’t think I know that? Come on, Mitch!” Vince barked. “I get it. No matter which way you slice it, this sucks for everyone. But I can’t do a thing about it.”
Mitch fell to the couch again, but the other end, and buried his face in his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. What about a second opinion, though?”
“I just scheduled one for the day before my treatments start, but the first doctor said not to expect anything different. I guess it’s rather textbook,” Vince explained patiently.
“Sorry…I just need a minute,” Mitch said.
Vince’s voice softened further. “Of course.”
The two brothers sat in silence for a considerable amount of time, Vince desperately wondering what was on Mitch’s mind right now.
They still weren’t back to talking yet when a knock sounded at the door. Vince accepted the unfortunate truth that his guest would see him in a less than perfect state and he stepped to the door. Angela appeared in the peephole, staring at her feet. For a moment, Vince wondered if he even could even know for sure it was her, until he realized with a quickly sinking feeling that he’d told Angela he would be free all weekend. Adding yet another thing to his list of things about which to feel guilty, Vince opened up the door and cocked his head, gesturing to the hallway. Somewhat disturbed at the soppy-faced man before her and surprised that for some reason she wasn’t being welcomed inside, Angela backed up, letting him out of the apartment. She held a paper grocery bag.
“Angela, sorry,” Vince said, shutting the door behind him. “My, uh, brother’s here. He flew in from Chicago so we could talk. I completely forgot I told you I was free all weekend. I should’ve called to let you know I’d made plans.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Angela said, her voice indicating that it was anything but. To say she was uncomfortable would be putting it mildly. “I should’ve checked with you first, sorry.”
“No, no, this one’s on me,” Vince insi
sted. “Anyway, I’d introduce you to him if it were under different circumstances, but I just told him. He’s in pretty rough shape right now.”
“He’s not the only one,” Angela noted. “Is there anything I can do?”
Vince shook his head slowly, then quickly. “No, but thank you. I really don’t mean to be rude, but—”
“I can go, I can definitely go. I understand completely. I’m sorry again that I didn’t call ahead of time. But can you put this in your freezer? I thought I’d catch Charlie here and we could all have some ice cream.”
“Of course.” Vince held out his hands for the bag. “Charlie’s not here right now anyway. He’s at Jenna’s while I talk to Mitch. He’s got to fly back out tonight, though. I was going to drive him back to the airport around seven. Can you come back later tonight, or do you have plans?”
“I left my weekend open,” Angela admitted. She winced just enough for Vince to know that she was embarrassed by this little tidbit, that she wished she hadn’t shared it.
“Well, if you’re still up to it, then how about eighty-thirty, nine?”
Angela forced a smile. “Sure. Sounds good. I’ll be back later.”
“Who was that?” Mitch asked when Vince came back inside
“Friend from work,” Vince replied, stopping in the kitchen to put a half gallon of ice cream in the freezer.
“Did I hear you call her Angela?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Name just sounds familiar and you’ve never talked much about your work friends to me, that’s all,” Mitch said.
“I probably told you she was the one who saved me from bleeding to death in Chicago,” Vince remembered.
“Ah, that sounds familiar, too. So, she’s just a friend?” Mitch asked, earning himself a choice glare from his brother. “What?”
“You’re not here to talk about women,” Vince said, sitting back down.
“Yeah, ’cause I sure am enjoying talking about the fact that you’re dying, Vince. Is there anything else I should know about it?”
“I think I’ve covered everything.”
“What are your plans, then?”
“I resigned from work. I have a couple of days left. My treatment starts Wednesday. I figured that way I wouldn’t have to schedule my job around treatment, and I could spend more time with Charlie.”
“You gonna stay here?”
Vince’s brow furrowed. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, I mean further down the road,” Mitch said tentatively. “There’s gonna come a point where you can’t be up and moving around well enough to…”
“…Take care of Charlie? I know. I haven’t planned that far ahead.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but you should plan that far ahead, you know.”
“It is your business.”
“It is?” Mitch asked, poking his head up. He’d stopped what crying he’d started, though the evidence wasn’t gone. Now he seemed more interested than ever.
Vince nodded. “You’re my family. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t appreciate you inserting your opinion, but, well, these aren’t normal circumstances. To be honest, I’m feeling overwhelmed and I guess a second pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”
“Of course you’re feeling overwhelmed. When did you find out?”
“Tuesday. You’re the last one I’m telling, but I don’t mean anything personal by that. I think you and Charlie were the most difficult to talk to, and I wanted to save Charlie for last, too, but I couldn’t be living with him and hiding something like that from him. And I obviously didn’t want to tell you over the phone if it could be helped.”
“No worries. How did Charlie take it?”
“He doesn’t understand completely, but he understands I’m sick. He just doesn’t get how sick, or how soon six or eight months is going to go by. It’ll probably be easier for him to grasp when I become more visibly ill. I’ve already lost a significant amount of weight, but that’s just the start, and then if I lose my hair from the chemo…”
“Yeah…” Mitch took a sip of his beer after all. “He’s good right now, though?”
Vince nodded. “Much better than I am, at least.”
“Which is…?”
Vince’s eyebrow twitched in question.
“How are you? What’s it feel like, I mean physically?”
“Tired most days, nauseous sometimes, achy…It all goes in and out.”
“What about today?”
“Tired, mainly. But it’s hard to figure out how much of that is physical versus mental. I’m emotionally drained right now, I know that.”
“Then let’s stop talking cancer. Let’s talk about something else,” Mitch suggested.
“Sounds good to me. How have you been? What’ve you been up to?” Vince asked.
“Working at two different jobs. Seventy-hour weeks sometimes.”
“You’re starting to sound like me,” Vince said with a grin.
“Pretty much. If only I had a specialty besides just wanting to live in Chicago, then I’d be able to afford a nicer place. Anyway, no time for anything else. While we’re on other subjects, what was your work friend doing at your place on the weekend?” Vince tried to put out the feisty fire in Mitch’s eyes with a cold stare, but if anything, he just stoked it. “What? Come on, talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. The rest of the team is out of town on a case, and she just asked if she could stop by sometime over the weekend to check in. She’s a worrier, that’s all.”
“Right,” Mitch said, sitting back with his beer, seemingly more than happy to move their conversation in this direction. “You do realize that a woman doesn’t just ask if she can come over if she’s not interested.”
“Trust me, she’s not interested,” Vince said, magically exuding much more confidence than he felt.
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, for one, I’m dying.”
“For two?”
Vince shrugged. “I guess that’s it. But that’s a deal breaker right there, if you ask me.”
“Well, I don’t really think that’s for you to decide. Maybe she just wants to fool around, anyway.”
“When have I ever fooled around?”
“Well, Vince, you’ve got the next six to eight months to do whatever you want with no excuses.”
“That’s not at all how it works, and that’s not at all how I want to operate.”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “I was joking, moron. In all seriousness, though, don’t assume she’s not interested just because your days are numbered. I’m sure there are some women out there who dig that sort of thing, find it romantic.”
“Maybe if there were a chance I’d make it through, then it would be romantic. But there’s not going to be some…last-minute miracle cure.”
“Does she know that?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t seem in denial about it?”
“No.”
“Then what the heck, Vince? Go for it.” Mitch urged.
“All right, assuming that your limited evidence actually does suggest that she’s interested, what makes you think I am?”
“Don’t kill me, but my head is right by the hallway wall, so I couldn’t help but overhear. Not only were you all awkward like you always were with women, but I heard you ask her to come back over tonight.”
“Because you’re here right now.”
“Yeah, but you could’ve suggested tomorrow, during the day. If you really only wanted friendly conversation, something totally innocent, you’d have her over when Charlie’s around the entire time. Kids are the perfect buffers against romance. I’m sure Charlie normally goes to bed around eight-thirty or nine, no? So wasn’t that your plan? Have some alone time?”
“I don’t appreciate being profiled, especially when you’re no good at it,” Vince said flatly. “I’m dying and you want to talk about sex. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I changed the subject for you, first of all. Second of all, I never said anything about sex. Not once.”
“What does ‘fooling around’ mean, then?”
Mitch chuckled. “I told you I was kidding about that. I take it you’re done with this subject?”
“I have been since we started on it. Tell me more about what’s going on with you.”
—
By the time Vince and Mitch felt they had gotten in enough adult conversation, it was an hour before their trip back to the airport. Mitch wanted to see Charlie, so the three of them grabbed a quick bite to eat at a nearby restaurant. Charlie was reserved around the uncle he rarely saw; Vince hoped they could all reunite again soon so that his son and brother could get to know each other better. He also wished he’d done this sooner, but like with most of the things he regretted, he knew there was little use in dwelling on it.
“Give me more notice next time and I might be able to stay longer than a few hours,” Mitch said to Vince as they embraced tightly outside of Vince’s car at the airport.
“I will. I am sorry for the late notice. It’s been a crazy week. But I’m glad you came out.”
“Me, too. Hey Charlie, can I get a hug?” Mitch asked, opening up the back door.
“Say goodbye,” Vince said to Charlie. “Hopefully we’ll get to see Uncle Mitch again soon, but I don’t know when.”
Charlie obliged and opened up his arms, letting his uncle duck into the car and hug him. “I love you, little guy.”
“Love you too,” Charlie said habitually.
“Take care of your dad for me, okay?”
Charlie grinned. “’Kay.” Vince began to shiver in the cold as he waited for Mitch to finish his farewell to Charlie.
“One more,” Mitch said to his brother. “Love you,” he said as he clapped him on the back.
“I love you, too. And don’t worry about me. I’ve fooled myself into thinking the worst is over, so I’ll be fine.”
“I’m family. I have every right to worry, and every right to call as often as I want.”
“I’m still not a phone person, you know.”
“I could tell from today. What did I get, ten words out of you before you had me on a plane? But you’ll have to get over it.”
Vince chuckled. “Okay, go, get inside. Have a safe flight. Let me know when you make it home.” He watched Mitch walk off, hands buried in the deep pockets of his jacket, with a bounce in his step that had Vince green with envy.
As soon as Mitch made his way into the thick of the crowd, though, his step faltered and his energy left him, but Vince was too busy getting back in the car to notice.
