Every Last Drop: A Novel

by Sarah Robinson

  My family was standing around the breakfast bar, which was lined with full, steaming dishes of my favorite foods…and everything was green. Green eggs, green biscuits, green tea…it looked downright awful, honestly.

  “Um…” I started, not sure what to say when breakfast looked like it’d already been eaten and regurgitated.

  My dad laughed. “See? She thinks this is gross too.”

  “It’s not gross,” Elly countered. “It’s festive.” Then she pointed up to a banner I’d missed when I first walked in. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!”

  Kyle swung an arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. “You didn’t think we were only celebrating Valentine’s Day, did you?”

  My eyes widened and I looked between him, my dad, and Elly. “What are you guys talking about?”

  “We’re doing it all!” Elly clapped her hands excitedly. “All of your favorite holidays!”

  “What!” I squeaked out.

  Kyle squeezed my shoulders again, but my dad filled in the blanks. “We didn’t know, sunshine. We didn’t know last year would be our last Christmas, or last March our last St. Patrick’s Day. They’re not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but we’re having a redo. All week. We’re going to make some memories.”

  I wiped a tear off my cheek, trying to get the words out to tell them how much this meant to me—how much I love each one of them. Instead, I hugged them.

  When I finally let go of Elly, hugging her longer than the others, she ran to grab me a special plate off the counter and presented it to me with such pride in her face. “Since I know you’re not a huge fan of eggs right now, I made these for you.”

  She watched my face for my reaction, but I hesitated. I knew what she was holding; I’d eaten them a million times. They were one of my favorite breakfast foods; soft, round discs topped with a mountain of blueberries and syrup.

  I knew what these were…somewhere in my brain. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I’d forgotten the words. I’d forgotten…

  Elly frowned. “Do you like them?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but a barely audible mix between a squeak and a groan came out instead. “Uh…”

  Kyle was immediately in front of me, searching my eyes. “Tessa? Are you okay?”

  I nodded my head, but I’m not sure I was actually moving. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure?” my dad asked this time.

  “I can’t remember what it is,” I finally admitted, flushing with embarrassment.

  Everyone’s eyes followed my finger pointing to the plate of food Elly was holding.

  “I know I like it—love it, even—but I can’t remember what it is.” I heard my own pace picking up, my voice sounding panicky. I felt panicky. Why can’t I remember the word?

  “Pancakes,” Elly said softly, looking down at the plate. “I made you pancakes.”

  I blinked. Pancakes. “Oh.”

  My dad cleared his throat, and Kyle walked to the coffee machine. I could see him pretending to make a cup, but I knew he was trying to hide his face from me.

  “I bet they’re delicious, Elly,” my dad offered, grabbing his own plate and starting to pile it high with green foods. “Very festive.”

  “I love it, Elly,” I added, knowing the stricken look on her face was my fault. “I can’t wait to dig in. I love pancakes.”

  She seemed to jolt slightly at the word, but brought me the plate with a plastered smile. “Thanks. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”

  Pancakes. What a cruel thing to forget first.

  • ღ • ღ • ღ •

  Despite my faux pau earlier, the rest of the green-themed breakfast was actually fantastic. The pancakes tasted much better than they looked, and my family moved on to lively, happy chatter around the table. It was fun and silly, and everything I needed to brighten my day.

  The afternoon was a no-holds barred April Fool’s Day celebration. The first prank caught me completely off guard when Kyle replaced the stevia I use in my coffee with salt. Not one to be ousted, payback was swift. I covered the toilet seat with clear plastic wrap and waited.

  And waited.

  The man can really hold his bladder.

  Two hours later, when I heard shrieks from the bathroom, I dissolved into laughter on the couch as Kyle came storming out, cursing up a storm.

  “Plastic wrap? Really, Tessa? Really?” he balked. “Who’s going to clean up now?”

  My hands tried to cover the smile on my face, but there was no hiding my laughter. I touched my index finger to the tip of my nose as if that would get me off the hook. “Not me!”

  He scowled, but the corners of his lips twitched and I knew a smile was near. “There’s pee everywhere!”

  That made me howl harder, pulling a couch cushion over my face to muffle the sound.

  “You’re going to pay for this!” he promised as he marched to the bathroom, armed with multipurpose disinfectant and a roll of paper towels. “I’m going to get you.”

  “Counting on it,” I said, teasing.

  He returned the favor an hour later when he hid around the corner, jumping out wearing a zombie mask when I walked by. I shrieked and fell on my butt, which immediately made him feel bad and try to help me up. My sister put a fake dead fly in an ice cube in my glass, which my dad had switched out for a dribble cup. I retaliated by cutting two holes strategically placed in the front of her sweater, which she didn’t notice until my dad uncomfortably pointed out to her that he could see her brassiere.

  By the time dinner rolled around, everyone was laughing, jumpy, and paranoid—and the house was a mess. By far the best April Fool’s Day in September I’d ever had.

  Exhausted from the day’s activities, my head already starting to pound, I stretched out on the couch for a quick nap. Kyle walked by me carrying several packages of hot dogs and hamburgers. My dad was right behind him with a bag of multicolored rockets and sparklers.

  I pulled a throw blanket over my legs. “What is that for?”

  “Tonight is July Fourth!” Kyle replied.

  My dad winked. “Take a nap, sunshine. I’ll wake you up when the next holiday is here.”

  Grinning, my heart warm and full of love, I closed my eyes. “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Tuesday, September 2, 2014

  “Tessa?” The voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it still roused me from my nap.

  “Mmm?”

  “Tessa, wake up.”

  I opened my eyes and stretched out my arms, hit with a sudden wave of dizziness that made me glad I was lying down.

  Elly sat on the couch at my feet, sheepishly staring down at a flat envelope in her hands.

  “What’s up?” I asked, wondering if it was time for our Fourth of July celebrations yet.

  “I got you something,” she started, holding the envelope out, then quickly pulling it back to her chest. “It’s kind of like it’s May right now, you know?”

  “Um…” I definitely did not know, but I also couldn’t remember what pancakes were so I wasn’t about to start correcting people.

  “I mean, we had March for breakfast, April for lunch, and July tonight at dinner.”

  “Oh, right.” Talk about time passing in a flash. “What about it?”

  “Well, it’s mid-afternoon, so makes it May…Mother’s Day.” She looked sheepish again, plucking at the corners of the envelope.

  I pushed myself into a seated position, pulling a couch cushion behind me. The dizziness worsened with movement, but dissipated once I was up. I waited for Elly to continue speaking.

  “If this is…” she started again, but then swallowed hard. “If this is your last ‘May,’ your last ‘Mother’s Day,’ then I want to celebrate it.”

  She handed the card to me, and I took it. Tiny and pink, the front had my name in Elly’s handwriting.

  “You got me a card?” I asked, turning it over. “For Mother’s Day?”

  She nodded.
“Open it.”

  I found a simple card inside with a cartoon of two women of similar ages hugging on the front, hearts around them. Flipping it open, I read the inscription, and my heart fell into my stomach and burst through my chest all at the same time.

  Mother is a title you earn. You’ve earned it a hundred times over.

  I love you, Tessa. Happy Mother’s Day.

  “Elly—” I tried to speak, but my words failed me.

  “I know it’s not Mom’s fault she didn’t raise me, and I’ll always love her even though I never knew her,” Elly started.

  I watched her as she spoke, tears brimming her lower lashes. I reached over and intertwined my fingers with hers. She moved closer to me, both of us stretched out side by side on the couch. I cradled her like a child against me, her head on my shoulder.

  She sniffed and started again. “But you, Tessa… you’re my mother. You took care of me. You raised me. You taught me everything I know—the important things. You taught me it’s okay to have high hopes, even if they come crashing down, and how to get up and try again. You taught me how to treat people—with love, kindness, and humor. You taught me how to be happy, even when life isn’t. That’s what mother’s do, Tessa, and that’s who you are for me. Happy Mother’s Day.”

  For the very first time since I’d decided to move to Vermont, I wished for a miracle. I wished for life—wished the cancer away. I wasn’t grieving for my death, for what I’d miss out on, for what I’d lose… I was grieving for Elly.

  And for her sake, I was wishing for a miracle.

  Silent prayers were sent up to whatever deity would listen. She needs me. Please, don’t take me when she needs me. As if in some sort of cosmic answer, a sharp pain shot through my skull and down the base of my neck.

  The cancer wasn’t going anywhere.

  And I cried harder.

  “I’m so honored, Elly. I’m so happy I could be that for you.” I kissed her temple, not caring that my tears were wetting her hair. “I love you so much. I always will.”

  “I love you, Tessy.”

  We stayed curled together on the couch. My tears continued for how long, I don’t even know. Every emotion slammed through me, unrelenting and full of anguish. The beauty in my little sister’s words, in her raw emotions, made my heart swell. I’d never once, not even for a second, regretted giving up so much of my childhood to care for her. Getting up early to make her lunch before school, making sure to include tiny love notes—big enough she wouldn’t miss it, but small enough her peers wouldn’t see it and tease her. Working summers to pay for her to go to pre-med summer camps and classes because she wanted to be a doctor, and then helping put her through college when she’d gotten into one of the most prestigious programs in the country.

  She was right—I’d been her mother. I am her mother.

  I’d spent so much of the last few years wishing to be someone I already was. Mother is a title you earn, and though my womb was empty and my body was failing me… I’d already earned it.

  To marry the love of my life. Check.

  To become a mother. Check.

  To write a book. Almost.

  • ღ • ღ • ღ •

  “Happy Fourth of July!” My dad clinked the top of his beer bottle against Kyle’s as we sat around the fire pit they’d built in the yard.

  “Can you say that?” Elly questioned. “It’s September second. I think Happy Independence Day works better.”

  “We celebrated April Fool’s Day today, too,” I pointed out.

  Elly frowned. “True. Still… ‘independence’ seems to fit us better. Celebrating freedom, coming to Vermont to pursue your freedom—” She looked at me uncertainly. “The freedom to make your own choices.”

  A small smile tipped up the corners of my lips. “I like that.”

  I did feel free. Freer than I’d been since before my diagnosis, maybe longer. Despite the sadness I’d felt earlier in the day over my conversation with Elly, I knew wishing away the cancer wasn’t the answer. Knowing I was leaving Elly alone—it was hard and it was painful, but I’d given myself several hours to grieve. I’d cried, and cried some more. I’d let myself feel it, and as the emotion bled out, so did its intensity.

  She would be okay. She’d have Kyle and my dad, and even little Beast. She’d have people who would always love her, and who would step in where I was stepping out. She was loved as much as I was, and by people who knew I loved them too.

  There was nothing left unsaid. Love said it all.

  My family had finally accepted my choice, and I was in control of my life again, despite the sickness that was so far out of my hands. All the angst and stress of the last few months, trying to deny what was happening… it had melted away.

  I was dying, and there was a freedom in that, too.

  There was a freedom in accepting this was going to happen. Kyle would lose his wife. Elly would lose her sister—and Dad, his daughter. I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t stop it, but I could enjoy the time I had left with them.

  I hadn’t even celebrated the real July Fourth this past year. We’d just moved to Vermont, and I’d been so busy dealing with the process of getting my medication, getting residency established, and everything else that goes into uprooting your life. The last April Fool’s Day I’d spent throwing up after my first radiation treatment. The last St. Patrick’s Day and Valentine’s Day, I’d been planning a family and falling in love with the rest of my life stretching out before me.

  It hadn’t occurred to me to celebrate the last few holidays because I might not have another chance, which was very unlike me. Who I had become over the last few months… I didn’t like that person. For the first time in a while, I felt like the old me again. I was getting a re-do—even if only on holidays.

  “Happy Independence Day it is,” Kyle agreed, taking another swig of his beer.

  I sipped my lemonade and watched Beast sniffing at the bag of fireworks a few feet from us. “How big are those fireworks?”

  Kyle grinned mischievously. “Let’s just say, it’s not completely legal.”

  My brows raised and Elly scooped Beast into her arms. “Let’s put you inside, Beastie Boy.”

  “Good idea,” Kyle agreed. “I’m going to set them up.”

  “Don’t lose a hand—or anything else!” I called out, though I knew he’d be careful.

  A few minutes later, there was a row of rockets, poised and pointing over the water.

  “Here you go.” Kyle handed everyone two sparklers and then lit a match, setting them on fire.

  I held the wooden end carefully, keeping the flame away from me as sparks shot out from the tip. It crackled and sizzled and flamed, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

  Elly ran around the yard with hers, dancing in circles, waving the sparkler to make long ribbons of light through the night sky. “Instead of using ribbons in gymnastics, we should have used these!”

  My dad joined her, spelling out her name with his sparkler, and then mine. “Tessa, look! Your name’s in lights!”

  My smile was as bright as the sparkler he was holding, and I turned to see Kyle watching me. His eyes were dark, his smile barely there, but I recognized the look as his sparkler sailed slowly through the air in front of him, forming a heart. I gestured the same heart back to him with my sparkler, and he gave me a small wink before heading over to light the rockets that would shoot up brilliantly into the sky and flame out over the water.

  Half the year was over, in more ways than one, and all I felt was the warmth of the sparklers flames and my family’s love.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Wednesday, September 3, 2014

  “How do you celebrate Halloween when it’s not Halloween?” I asked my sister as I flipped through the costumes on the rack in front of me. Luckily, stores put out holiday items insanely early, so though it’s only September, there were a ton of costume options at the local department store. “We can’t exactly go trick-or-treating.”<
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  Elly laughed. “When’s the last time you went trick-or-treating? I mean, I could probably get away with it, but you’re old as hell.”

  “You’re going to be a lot older than I’ll ever be,” I teased.

  Elly’s face dropped and she shook her head. “Dude.”

  I put on my most innocent face. “What?”

  “Not a funny joke, you jerk.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a little funny.”

  “Anyways,” Elly emphasized loudly, turning to the rack of costumes. “What about this one for me? Tinkerbell?”

  “Nothing slutty.” I took it from her and returned it to the rack. “I get to pick your costume.”

  “Says who?” she balked. “You’d probably pick a nun’s outfit.”

  A wiggled my brows at her. “Do they have one of those, because—yes.”

  Elly laughed. “Hell, no!”

  “Nuns don’t curse, El.”

  “Tinkerbell probably does, but it sounds like this—sheeeeet!” Her voice went up several octaves as she shrieked shit in the highest pitch possible.

  I dissolved into giggles then pulled another costume off the rack. “What about Cat in the Hat?”

  “You just said nothing slutty, but now you want me to dress up as a p—”

  “All right!” I interrupted her before she could finish that thought, laughing with my hands in the air. “Pick your own costume! Just nothing with ‘sexy’ or ‘slutty’ in the title. You’re still my little sister.”

  “Fine, fine!” Elly flitted off to a rack a few rows over.

  The tips of my fingers tingled as I returned to pushing costume after costume aside on the rack. I’d moved over to the horror section, costumes covered in gore and fake blood—which I loved. Halloween should be scary, and I’d never understood how it had turned into just another excuse to show boobs and ass.

  That’s what I was thinking of before I had my second seizure.