Life's Too Short

by Abby Jimenez

  “I don’t want to. I can’t.”

  I licked my lips. “Yes, you can. You can. I’ll help you. I’ll help you with money, you won’t have to work—”

  “I won’t stay clean.”

  She said it matter-of-factly. It wasn’t a threat. It was just a statement.

  “I won’t. I want to, but if I have to take care of her, I won’t. It’s too hard. I’m just being honest. They tell me in here to speak my truth and that’s what it is. I never wanted her. I don’t want to be a mom. I can’t do it.”

  “You know Dad can’t do this,” I breathed. “If something happens to me, he’ll be a mess. He’s already a mess. You can’t leave Grace with him—”

  “Then find somebody else. People always want babies. She’s good. Somebody will want her.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. “You can’t mean that,” I whispered. “She’s your daughter.”

  She shrugged again. “Least I’m honest.”

  We sat there in silence.

  I studied her. Her baby face with its deep forehead lines and wear beyond her years.

  She was damaged. So, so damaged.

  And why wouldn’t she be?

  She was only fourteen when Mel got sick. She was a child, living in a trash heap, watching her oldest sister, the one who had been the only mom she ever knew, wither and die.

  And now she knew I might be dying too.

  How much did I expect her to endure? She wasn’t even old enough to drink and she’d already lived through more tragedy than most people three times her age.

  Her own mother had abandoned her. Then Mel died, and I left her alone with her grief and traveled the world while Dad descended further into his mental illness. She got pregnant by accident, her body taken hostage by a baby she didn’t plan and didn’t want and wasn’t emotionally capable of caring for. She was an addict. She had her own demons to deal with—and at least she was self-aware enough to recognize it.

  Was I doing to her what Adrian had done to me? Insisting I knew what was best for Annabel when she was the one who had to live with her choices?

  Maybe listening to her was doing what was best for her and Grace.

  Even if it didn’t feel that way.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll make sure she ends up with a good family.”

  For the first time in a long time, her face went soft.

  Probably because for the first time in a long time, I decided to hear her.

  * * *

  Two hours later I sat in the parking lot of the wellness center, typing the address to my apartment building into my phone to navigate home.

  Annabel had given me a long hug before I left.

  I saw a spark of who she could be today. It took a while to bring it out, but it was in there. She talked about the future, about going to college and getting her degree. She wanted to do graphic design, make websites for people. I told her how impressed I was with what she did for BoobStick and her eyes lit up. She reminded me of Grace when she looks up at Adrian, that same pure happiness that I’d been afraid my sister was no longer capable of.

  I’d told her it was a great idea. I liked that she was looking ahead.

  I knew she could stay clean. She was strong. And she had access to all the resources she needed now. I think it freed her to admit that she needed to let Grace go. I guess it freed me too in a way. Hoping never was my favorite strategy. There was no more what-if now. I didn’t have to worry if Annabel’s addiction would ruin Grace’s life after I was gone. It wouldn’t—because Grace would be gone too.

  I finished typing in the address and went to hit Send on the search bar…

  And then I just stopped.

  What was the point in going back to St. Paul? What was there for me?

  Adrian had said his piece, and I’d said mine. He’d given me an ultimatum, and I’d given him my answer. It was over. And now everyone had what they needed. So what was the point in continuing to be there?

  Annabel was getting help. Grace had Dad for now, and Dad had Sonja to support him. They’d be able to take care of Grace until I got her placed with a family. Brent was on the right track.

  Adrian had his work and his bottom line.

  And for the first time in a long time, I had the prospect that my family might be okay. That was more than I’d ever hoped for.

  But would they still be okay if I stuck around? If they had to watch me slowly decline like they watched Melanie?

  They wouldn’t. Because looking at me now was nothing but looking at the sun.

  They were a fragile house of cards by an open window…and I was the breeze. I had to go.

  I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Grace…

  I couldn’t go back. I’d lose my nerve.

  This punched me right in the heart, made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

  My baby…

  I’d seen her for the last time and I didn’t even know it. I’d kissed her face and snuggled her and smelled her head and I didn’t savor it, I didn’t hold it in…

  She was more mine than she ever was Annabel’s. She’d always be mine, even when she didn’t remember a thing about me.

  And that would have to be good enough.

  I had to hope that the tiny pieces she’d gotten of me would be enough to last a lifetime.

  I’d call her case worker and my lawyer and make sure they knew where she was.

  I wiped the tears off my cheeks, looked down at my phone, and cleared the address from the search bar. And suddenly the road ahead was a giant question mark.

  I’d set off all those years ago to live my life. To be a butterfly in the wind. I’d left on my quest alone. No cameraman to mic me up and follow me and edit my footage. No production assistant to book hotel rooms and plan agendas. Nothing but a single suitcase and the clothes on my back. I had that in the car now. I even had my passport. I’d embarked with a goal to laugh and see the world and live like I had one year left. And now maybe I actually did.

  I wasn’t ready to give up my love for life. And I wasn’t going to spend one more day looking at the sun. I’d never do it again. I chose living—because anything else was just waiting to die.

  I started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. When I had to make a turn, I went wherever the wind took me.

  CHAPTER 30

  THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO SURVIVING A BREAKUP (THAT’S YOUR FAULT)

  ADRIAN

  Nothing had changed about my place. The tree was still up and lit, Grace’s swing was still next to the sofa. Even Vanessa’s throw blanket was where she’d left it, balled up on the couch, smelling like her. But everything was different now. Like the lights had gone on in a nightclub.

  I hadn’t heard from Vanessa in two days. Since she hung up on me on New Year’s Eve.

  The second it happened, I knew I’d fucked up.

  I’d turned my car around, called Lenny and asked him to go in my place, and drove straight to Stillwater. But Vanessa wouldn’t answer my calls or texts and I didn’t know where to go. I googled bed-and-breakfasts in the area and drove to each one, looking for her car, but I couldn’t find it.

  That was the last time I spoke to her.

  I betrayed her. I made her choose: me or herself.

  And she’d called my bluff.

  That ultimatum was an act of desperation from a despondent, sleep-deprived man who was descending into madness at the thought of losing her. It was manipulative and wrong, and I could have never in a million years acted on it. I knew that now more than ever. I wasn’t capable of leaving her, no matter what her position on the end of her life continued to be.

  Everything in my universe had been forcefully ranked all of a sudden. My shortcomings laid out with the clarity of hindsight—I was so afraid of being left again by someone I loved I couldn’t even wrap my brain around what was right and wrong.

  I should have done what she said. Gone to grief counseling, joined a support group, found a therapist, talked to someone. Anything other th
an what I did. Anything other than shutting down and giving her an ultimatum because I couldn’t handle the choice she made—and it was her choice to make. She was an expert witness on ALS, giving her testimony, and I’d refused to listen because I wasn’t emotionally capable of accepting it. I was as damaged as they came and I’d never done a fucking thing about it, I’d never dealt with any of it, my abandonment issues, my need for control.

  I was no different from Richard. Only I left my family without going anywhere.

  I didn’t think things could possibly get worse than they already were.

  I’d been wrong.

  This was my rock bottom. This.

  I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. It felt like my family had disintegrated. Like I’d failed them and my wife had left me and taken our kid. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was afraid to leave. I kept everything quiet so I’d hear her next door if she came home, but she didn’t.

  I’d given away the time we had left.

  She was right. I should have cherished every second with her.

  I wanted to go back in time and talk to her on the car ride back to Minnesota from Nebraska. I wanted to take her to the candy store she asked to see and have lunch with her that day she came to my office and kiss her as the ball dropped on New Year’s Eve. Instead I’d spent those last days just staring at the sun.

  And now I was living the worst possible thing twice.

  I hoped she just needed some space. Maybe she just needed to calm down. Then she’d come back, give me the chance to apologize. I was clinging to that hope.

  It was almost 2:00. I was in the living room with my head in my hands when my cell phone rang. I jumped for it, but it was only Becky.

  I dragged a hand down my mouth and slid the phone to my ear. “Hey—”

  “Adrian, what have you done?”

  Her voice was shaking.

  I sat up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Vanessa just uploaded a video.”

  I hung up on her and bolted to my laptop to bring up her channel.

  The video opened with Vanessa sitting in a Delta lounge. Her eyes were red and puffy. It was entitled “Goodbye Forever.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “Hey, everyone.” She did her wave at the camera. But she didn’t have the usual light around her eyes. She was in a hoodie and her hair was in a messy braid. She looked the way I felt. Heartbroken.

  “I wish I were here to give you better news, but like you see from the title of this, this is going to be my last video. I haven’t been honest with all of you, and I want to be honest now because I think you deserve that.” She paused. “For the last few months, I’ve been having what I’m afraid might be the early-onset symptoms of ALS.

  “I’ve been giving my life a lot of thought and knowing that I might only have a little time left, I’ve decided how I want to spend it. And that’s in privacy.

  “I’ll still be out there in the world. And I’ll make videos of my final time here, if that’s what I’m staring down at. But they won’t be released until after my death. Why?” She shrugged. “Because they’ll be worth more when I’m gone, and I’d like to give my charity one final push after I go. My last middle finger to this disease—while I can still lift one.” She gave the camera a weak smile.

  “You guys have been the wind beneath my wings. Truly. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. We’ve raised millions for ALS research and done more for awareness than I could have ever hoped for. You gave me a legacy I can be proud of and one day all of this will save lives. Thank you for that. For giving me a platform and for making a difference.” Then she took a deep breath, and her face went sadder than it already was. “Jesus’s Abs—Adrian.” She looked right at me. “I never told you thank you. I never told you a lot of things. You gave me so much over the last month. You were a friend and a support. You made me feel safe and still. You gave me the chance to have a family of my own for a little while, and though I know I wasn’t, I felt like I got to be a wife.” Her chin quivered, and my heart shattered. “You are the love of my life—and not because my life is probably going to end a lot sooner than I hoped. I want you to know that I don’t blame you for not being able to do this. I hope you find someone who can give you the lifetime of memories that I can’t, because you deserve it.” She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to cry. “Don’t ever forget the things I taught you. Life’s too short, Adrian. It is too fucking short. Eat the cake, take the vacation, dance in the rain. And don’t do anything that’s going to break your heart. I’m just sorry that in this case, that thing was me.”

  She looked at me through the screen for another moment.

  Then the video ended.

  It hadn’t even been over a full second when something banged on the adjoining wall to our apartments. I jumped to my feet and ran to the door, gasping for air, thinking maybe she had come back for her clothes or Grace’s things. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  But when I opened the door, a couch drifted out of Vanessa’s apartment down the hallway, carried by two men in blue mover’s shirts.

  Gerald’s voice came from inside. “Be careful with those, they’re collector’s items! And I’m watching you, so don’t think you’re going to slip something into a pocket!”

  He saw me come into the doorway and stopped his delegating. “Ah, the lawyer!” He smiled at me.

  I looked around the small studio, my heart pounding against my rib cage. A team of people were packing things into boxes. Someone in white gloves was pulling Vanessa’s Banksy down and wrapping it in paper. Her mattress was propped against a wall, and a man was disassembling her bed. Someone was in the kitchen, boxing up Grace’s bottles. A woman was on a ladder scraping the glow-in-the-dark stars off the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?” I breathed, looking back at Gerald, though it was obvious.

  He rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets in that unaffected way of his. “Moving my daughter’s possessions, per her request.” He held up a hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll have the unit back in a couple of hours. Broom clean, just like the lease says.”

  I stared around at the activity in disbelief. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like she was being erased. In an hour this place would be like she had never been here at all.

  “Where is she?” I asked, looking back at him, standing in the middle of the chaos.

  His smile fell, and for a moment he looked almost sorry for me. “Son, you know I can’t tell you that.”

  I looked at him desperately. “You can. You have to tell me where to find her. Please,” I begged.

  His bushy eyebrows drew down. “Maybe we should go have a chat. I’d say your apartment is probably better suited. Shall we?”

  I blinked for another moment at the impossible scene in her studio. Her life disappearing before my eyes. “Yes.”

  When we got back to my place, he nodded to the bar on the way to the dining room table. “Pour me a stiff one, will you? It’s been a bit of a day.”

  I poured him a bourbon with shaking hands and slid it to him before sitting down.

  There was a fog of disbelief over all of this so thick it almost didn’t feel real. I looked at him sitting there like he was an extension of a strange dream I was having.

  He put his nose into the tumbler and breathed in. Then he gave me a nod of approval and took a swallow. “Ahhh, that’s nice. Very, very nice. You have good taste.” He raised his glass to me. “In bourbon and women.”

  “You have to tell me how to find her. Now. I need to go now,” I said, too desperate for tact.

  He chuckled. “You know, you remind me a little of myself when I was your age. And Vanessa is a carbon copy of her mother. Same energy. Luminous.” He swayed his glass at me. “You know what I’m talking about. They have that inner light. And stubborn! My God, are they ever.” He laughed dryly into his tumbler. “My wife, Samantha, had been symptomatic for a year when she got in the car accident. They sai
d she lost control of the wheel. Shouldn’t have been driving, truth be told, but nobody ever could tell Samantha what to do.” He smiled to himself, his eyes distant, like he was remembering. Then the corners of his lips dropped and he looked up at me from under his bushy eyebrows.

  “You know, she wouldn’t do the trials either. Couldn’t wrap my brain around it. Was angry—for years. How could she leave us like that? Why didn’t she try? Took me a long time to realize that just because you don’t recognize the fight they choose doesn’t mean they’re not fighting.”

  He leaned forward. “This isn’t even the hard part, son. Loving her isn’t the hard part. Neither is just shutting up and supporting her, even if you don’t believe in how she’s doing it. The hard part’s on its way and it’s going to last the rest of your life once that light you’ve been living under dims and goes out. Even if this thing ends up being nothing, you’ll just be waiting for the shoe to drop, driving yourself mad. It’ll eat you from the inside out. If you can’t handle it now, believe me, you’re not cut out for what’s coming.” He paused. “But I think you knew that.”

  He looked at me levelly. “You knew what you were doing when you gave her that ultimatum. You knew you weren’t built for this. Don’t chase her. You have your whole life ahead of you. Take the gift she’s given you, go back to work, love another woman. Move on. Let her go.”

  I studied him. He couldn’t be more than fifty-five. But he looked ten years older. Hard lines. The wear of decades of grief.

  He took a final swig of his drink and pushed up on his knees. “I have custody of Grace. Annabel’s waiving her rights. Feel free to stop by and say hello.” He paused in my doorway and looked at me a long moment. “You always had my blessing, Fancy Hall Cop. I liked having a lawyer in the family.”

  And he let himself out.

  CHAPTER 31

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