by Amelia Wilde
“The people I deal with at work are dangerous. This security system will alert the right people about your situation—hence the cameras we’ll install around the perimeter.” Her body trembles. “I won’t let anything happen to you, but the alarm is a little insurance policy just in case.”
I reach out with both hands and wrap them around her waist before closing the gap between us. I keep her steady against me. “Asking for you to trust me is stupid, I haven’t done anything to earn such trust. In any case, I beg you to believe me when I say that the security system isn’t an invasion of your privacy. It’s a safety net.”
Those whiskey eyes stare at me, deciding that what I’ve said for now is enough. I wish I could take her away with me to a place where she’s permanently safe—but I can’t. That’s her decision, and our relationship isn’t at that stage. She’s fearful of what we’ve developed and I don’t want to push her away with fear of losing her.
“Okay, install whatever you consider is necessary.” Her hands cup my face. Our linked gazes don’t break as she pulls me even closer to her. We are only a breath away from each other. Those tender, silky lips touch mine, moving slowly, kissing me lovingly. It doesn’t last long, but I feel it all the way down into my soul. “I don’t know why, but I trust you. There’s something in the way your heart beats that tells me I’m safe with you.”
This is a refreshing change of pace from a few days ago. “Funny, my heart knows he’s safe with you.”
I swallow hard, knowing she might not like what I’m about to say. “After I install the system, I need to see your schedule. I have a mission coming up—we don’t have too much time left.”
Concern flashes through her eyes. She closes them immediately, trying to hide the fear. I feel it racking through her erratic pulse. I kiss her hard, like my life depends on this exact moment. I’m communicating that this is only an intermission before the next big act. That no matter how long it takes, I’ll come back to her.
25
Aspen
“Anyone can make your heart beat, not many will shake your soul,” Sophia explains, sipping her tea. “Lori doesn’t expect direct pleasure. This man, Graham, stirred her life, awakening her from the haze she’s been engulfed for so long.”
“So she’s doing it because of him?” Brynn questions looking at her tablet. This impromptu book club has turned into some soul-searching, life coaching event.
My mind swirls every time I think about my past, my present, and my envisioned future. Right now, I have complete chaos on my hands. Mom left me a message asking me to please call her. Austin texted me to do the same. My godfather emailed me to check how I’m doing and asked if I had finished settling all of my father’s businesses. No. I haven’t. I’m still ignoring a letter I picked up from the Boston house that I was supposed to read years ago. Maybe he’s asking because I asked him if he could help me sell the house in Maine?
There’s this ongoing hurricane of emotions, doubts, and questions inside my head. Every time we read a new book, the winds pick up and my mind is even more confused. Like when we read a few passages of The Secret Life of Bees. Sophia simplified it in a few words: strong female bonds matter and sometimes the best kind of family is the one you choose for yourself. That’s us, Scarlett, Brooklyn and me.
Ah, Scarlett. The other person I’m avoiding like the plague. These books are like a lesson; they’re telling me that I have to stop avoiding my life.
Eat, Pray, Love made it today during lunch. It’s about a fulfilled woman who decides to leave everything behind. “I wished I had done a little soul-searching traveling myself,” Sophia said. “How many people continue doing the same thing every day without stopping and analyzing what they want?”
I am one of those people she’s talking about—wake, work, sleep. Did I work too much that I’m burnt out? Certainly, the book justifies my current state. My purple, leather organizer remains on top of my nightstand collecting dust. Victoria bought the weekly groceries, most of my bills are on auto-pay, and I’m about to ask for a leave of absence from the hospital until further notice. The main reason is to take care of Sophia, but I also want to have a long break from work. I pride myself on doing the best I can with every patient, but what I do isn’t fulfilling anymore. Am I selfish? Do I want to continue working in my field?
All those questions surfaced just as I’m pausing my mindless, fast-paced, lifestyle. I’m always going through the motions and following each line on the daily schedule. My schedule was simple—workout, coffee, work, and sleep. This new pace will be a great change, having Sophia with us is refreshing. She brings an approach to life I’ve read about but never seen up close.
Like this evening, we’re reading and discussing an erotic romance book.
“Make each other happy, I’d agree,” Brynn’s voice refocuses my attention. I’m back in this strange conversation. Why did we choose this book? “Still, I’m not sure if I’ll be willing to blow a guy while fucking his asshole with my fingers. Would you, Aspen?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a prostate assisted orgasm,” I defend the author or is it the character. Who am I defending here? “Anal is amazing if you’re with the right person. A BJ while stimulating the prostate might be mind-blowing for a guy.”
Brooklyn leans backward, her eyes fully open. “Have you had anal?”
There’s a loud cough. Anderson. “Why the fuck are you talking about our sex life in front of my mother?” The same man who has a pretty extensive sexual repertoire is red like a radish and his eyes are flaring.
“Oh dear.” Sophia Hawkins shuts her book close, placing it on top of her lap and staring at it.
“I guess you’ve had anal.” Brynn smirks at Anderson’s confirmation. “Look at you, all full of kinky surprises.”
“Shut up, Brooklyn.” I stand up, crashing the book I hold on Anderson’s chest. “We were discussing a book. Maybe you should’ve waited for more context before you put your foot inside your mouth.”
He turns the paperback over, reading the blurb, “entrepreneur, philanthropist, and orphan Graham Queen has a black soul and a shattered heart. During his last trip to Italy he meets Lori Ritz, a starving American artist,” he pauses, admiring the cover. A tint of red and black, a pearl in the middle, a blurry image of a Saint Andrew’s cross.
“Bound My Soul—a Dante’s Dungeon novel,” he reads the title. “What the fuck, Aspen? You’re reading erotica books to my innocent mother?”
Brynn and I laugh at his question. Poor man, he believes his mother is pure and naïve. If only. Sophia is the one who suggested reading this book. Her collection of erotic fiction is impressive. She’s gifting her collection to Brynn because the books won’t make it to her final destination. But the words we read will accompany her along with her lifetime of memories.
“I’m collecting memories, son,” she corrects him, standing up from the couch. “Why don’t we start dinner.”
Her body stills and she closes her eyes. I move closer in case she faints. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course, I stood up too fast.” Brynn and I stare at each other, not believing that line one bit. “This read has me all flushed. Do you mind if I go to rest?”
“That's an excellent idea,” I second, reaching for her hand.
Anderson, the ultimate gentleman, doesn’t ask. He carries her in his arms and rushes to my room. “How are you feeling Mom?”
“It’s a little fainting spell.” She tries to play it down. They both disappear. Brynn and I wait outside giving them some privacy.
“What’s a fainting spell?” Anderson comes out of the bedroom.
“Due to everything she’s going through, her body is weak, but she doesn’t want to slow down. No matter how many times she’s been told by her doctors and friends that she needs more rest, she doesn’t comply,” I explain what I gathered from her medical history.
“That’s the way Mom’s always been,” he protests, a deep frown marring his forehead.
“Now more than ever, she wants to experience it all because her days are numbered I don’t fucking know how many she has but…”
“I wish I could do more.”
“You are doing a lot,” he reassures me. “We’ve talked about it, Mom and me. No matter how I see it, the end is close. And there’s not much I can do to stop it or prevent her from enjoying her last days.”
“I understand, but her body doesn’t agree with her decision.” I angle my head toward the living room where we sat only minutes ago. Then point at the stack of books. “We are trying our best to keep her active while she rests.”
“With smutty books?” He spanks me tenderly switching the gloomy conversation. The atmosphere doesn’t lighten up, though. The pain of what’s about to come is asphyxiating.
“There’s nothing wrong with romance books,” I defend myself and Sophia.
“Just take notes, baby.” There’s a huge smile drawn on his lips, but his eyes are filled with so much sadness that my heart breaks.
“I wish we could find a cure,” I offer, but my words feel empty.
“She’s happy. She’s having fun and being cared for by the best doctor I know.” He opens his arms and pulls me to him.
“Mhmm,” Brynn interrupts. “Victoria just arrived, she went to check on Sophia. Who’s cooking?”
“We will,” I volunteer us, then turn to Anderson who nods once in agreement.
26
To: Aspy
From: Walter Glanville
Subject: Real estate sale
Hey, dear girl, I received your email. Are you sure you want to sell? I know how attached you are to the house in Maine. Please, call me soon, so I know that you’re doing fine. I worry about you.
Sending you all my love,
Walter
To: Walter Glanville
From: Aspen Zimmerman
Subject: All is well
I didn’t mean to worry you! Why don’t you tell me when is a good time to call you, and I’ll give you a long explanation?
Love you,
A
27
Anderson
Mom and I find ourselves talking more and more. I learn more about her childhood, her relationship with Dad, and her decision to move from San Diego back to her parents’ home in Tacoma. My brother and I were a handful, and having grandma’s help was the best solution back then. At the end of every conversation we go back to Dad, and the few years they had together.
“We knew from the beginning that our time together was going to be short,” she tells me. “We made every day and every minute count.”
“What was his long-term plan?”
“He didn’t have one,” she continues. “Live life, enjoy it, and leave a mark before you die. Those were his words. The thrill of a being a Ranger and defending his country was bigger than anything in his life.”
“Even more important than you?” Fuck the question is harsh. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“In a way. He loved me, but he always said that defending his country was his number one priority. His family came second. It was his life, and I knew it. He loved me like he never loved anyone else,” she stops, taking a couple of breaths. I understand what she’s saying. For years, my only goal was to fight for my country. I made a commitment, gave my word, and swore to give up my life. “Not every love story is the same. Each romance is different, and the love he had for me was infinite. I liked the way it was. We fit perfectly.”
“He’s waiting for me, you know,” she whispers a shy smile appears on her dry lips.
She reaches out to grab my hand. “Plus, I have you and your brother.” Her head leans against the couch, her eyes close. “I think I need to sleep for a little while.”
I kiss her hand, staring at her thin body. She’s beginning to waste away. Only a few days ago, she almost skipped joyfully while boarding the helicopter that took us to the airport and had this glow to her when we flew in a private jet. Today, she didn’t want to take a walk, even walking around the house has become a difficult task for her. Our weekly doctor’s appointments won’t happen anymore. In a matter of days everything has changed from the two of us to a team of nurses, a doctor that comes by daily, a nutritionist, and a therapist. I’m not sure why we need a counselor, but I believe that Aspen is doing what she considers best.
These past few months have been life changing. The woman who brought me into this world became my best friend. We’ve shared so much; we’ve discussed life and she’s tried to teach me more than the right utensils to use. With every word, every sentence, and every day, she’s been preparing me to deal with life in a different way. I’m going to miss my mother, but I’ll miss the woman who listens and speaks with so much passion too.
“Hey.” Aspen enters the room, her hair up in some funny bun and held with pencils. “Is everything alright?” She looks at Mom.
“She’s tired.” I open my mouth and close it several times. “How long until…
“It’s not something we can predict.” Her voice is tender. “She’s still willing to do things, eating and finding joy in every moment.”
Aspen takes my hand. “She’s strong, and she’s clinging to life. Sophia will be around for longer than you think. She won’t leave until she’s ready.”
She pushes herself into her tiptoes and whispers, “She’s not willing to let go. Enjoy every minute while you have her.”
I don’t have many minutes left. Soon I’ll have to go on my mission. I feel like an asshole, but Mom insisted that I continue with my life. I doubt she’ll forgive me if I park my ass on the couch while I leave my team to some other lead who doesn’t have enough intel. Until I’m called, I’ll continue to spend as much time as I can with her, and pray that she doesn’t leave before I’m back.
Aspen holds my hand tight, keeping me afloat and strong from losing my shit. They continue singing, Mom’s voice coming short. “Happy birthday to youuu.”
Tens of candles are burning in front of me. I sip enough air and before I exhale, Mom whispers, “Make a wish.”
“Blow out the candles,” Aspen and Brynn sing in unison, my friends joining.
My heart squeezes. I take in the entire dining room. It’s decorated with blown up pictures of my childhood; there are streamers, confetti, and my favorite chocolate cake. I breathe through my mouth, then taking a deep breath, I wish for more days like today and blow out the candles. Aspen went all out to celebrate my birthday. Tiago and Kevin came to celebrate. Austin brought Mom flowers and, per Mom’s request, he talks about Aspen’s childhood—the few years they lived in Maine and their move to Boston. Unlike Aspen, he’s loud.
“Make it count,” Mom adds.
Mom starts coughing, Aspen releases my hand, going to her aid.
“Breathe for me, little sips of air,” she coaches Mom. “You’re doing great, now let’s drink some water.”
I place my hand on top of Mom’s, smiling the best I can while hiding the fear eating my insides. “What’s going on?”
“The singing, I was never good at it.” She shakes her head. “Time to eat the cake. This is the first-time Aspen’s baking it.”
Personally, I don’t want to eat cake. Yes, it’s my favorite. Mom always bakes it on my birthday, and it’s a recipe that comes from my great-great-grandmother on my father’s side. I think I became obsessed with it when I learned it was my dad’s favorite cake. Any other birthday I’d be thrilled that my girlfriend baked it for me, not today. Today is a reminder of what’s to come. But as Aspen repeats like a mantra, Mom isn’t quite ready to go.
I’m not ready to let her go.
“The doctor is here,” Victoria enters the room.
“Why did you call him?” Mom protests. “I’m feeling well.”
“This is my daily visit, Mrs. Hawkins,” Dr. Morgan clarifies. His almost white brow arches as Mom frowns in confusion. “We agreed yesterday, you’d be sharing some of that cake with me?”
Mom inhales a couple of times, her hand tr
embling and her shoulders sag. “You’ll excuse me, but I don’t remember well.”
“Time to cut the cake.” Aspen hands me a big, red, plastic knife, while she plucks the candles out of the frosting.
“What the hell is this?” I stare at the light flimsy object in my hand.
“A dessert knife.” Aspen’s voice includes a hint of mockery. “It’ll cleanly slice your cake, without leaving a trail of crumbs. And it can be yours for a limited time only for the low price of nine-ninety-nine plus shipping and handling.”
“That my friend,” Brynn points at the knife, “is the product of a night of too much wine and infomercials.”
They both laugh giving each other a knowing glance. Whatever happened that night continues to amuse them. Mom smiles at them, then at me, mouthing, “thank you.” I get it. It’s those moments when you do something silly, something unexpected, and you share it with your loved one. Bringing her to Aspen’s house helped me, but it’s giving Mom something special too.
We go through the motions: serving cake to everyone accompanied with coffee, tea or wine for the two besties—as they call themselves. Beer for the guys. Everyone takes turns talking about everything and nothing. Brynn and Aspen remain by my mother’s side. Once it’s over, I help Mom to her room. The doctor comes along. He checks her vitals and asks me to follow him while the nurse stays behind.
“She’s doing well. I hate to say this, but she’ll continue forgetting things. Soon she’ll talk more and more about the past.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I offered her pain medication, she declined—for now. As long as she continues fighting, you will continue to have her around.”