by D. L. Roan
“And then, after a while,” Papa Nate continued, “all those good and bad days accumulate into years and decades. And one day when you least expect it, and you’re staring down at your first grandchild cooing in your sons’ arms, all those years come rushing back at you like a herd of wild mustangs and knock you flat on your ass.”
Mason snickered at the analogy. “That sounds about right.”
Papa Nate hooked his arm around his neck. “What you’re going through now, we’ve all been through, son. Many, many times. It happens more often the older you get, but that first time can be a real ball-buster. Nothing you can do but get back up, dust yourself off, and get ready for the next stampede.”
“So, you’re saying it only gets worse?” he asked with a helpless laugh. God, he hoped not. He didn’t think he’d make it through this time.
His dad turned to face him, the sly grin on his lips betraying the wise sincerity in his eyes. “I’m saying focus on today. Trust me, this time in your life will be one of those times that’ll make you smile years from now.”
Mason released a slow sigh of relief, though he wasn’t sure he believed him.
“I love ya, son.” Nate threw his arm around Mason’s neck again and pulled him into a rare hug.
Mason hugged him tight, afraid to let go, etching that moment into the list of good memories. “Love you, too, Dad.”
Several breaths and a million heartbeats passed between them before Papa Nate loosened his grip. He held Mason away from him, his big palms clamped over his shoulders. When Mason met Nate’s gaze, he could have sworn his eyes glistened with tears before he winked and said, “What do you say we go see about that paint, before Joe sneaks in here to swipe a piece of that cheesecake in the fridge and catches us bawling like goddamn pansies?”
“Yeah.” Mason chuckled and Papa Nate led them out of the kitchen. “Wait!” He turned back to retrieve his beer and the screwdriver he’d left sitting on the counter. “Almost forgot.”
“I was wondering if you were ever comin’ back,” Papa Joe bellowed when they returned to their seats. “Give me that screwdriver and let’s drive this herd home so we can get to dessert.”
“Hold your horses there, Cheesecake Cowboy.” Gran snatched the tool from Mason’s hand before Papa Joe could. “We’re not done with dinner yet.”
“C’mon, Gran,” Dani pleaded, pushing her plate back. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Matt, Grey, and Papa Jake followed suit with grumbles of their own.
“We’re gonna have leftovers either way,” Matt pointed out with an anxious gleam in his eye.
Mason followed Hazel’s gaze to Chloe at the far end of the table. “Can we?” Chloe asked, looking around the table with anticipation.
“It’s your choice, honey.” Hazel passed the screwdriver down to her, which she promptly passed to Pryce.
Pryce’s eyes widened in surprise. He nervously glanced around the table before he took the tool and slowly rose to his feet.
Gabby pushed from her seat, too, resting her hand on Mason’s shoulder. He could feel her anticipation as they all waited to see what color the can contained. Pink or blue? Granddaughter or grandson?
Pryce hesitated. Mason didn’t think the poor guy was breathing as he looked up at Gabby.
“Go ahead,” Gabby urged him with a smile so big Mason could hear it in her voice.
Pryce stammered, then fidgeted with the screwdriver, looking every bit as nervous as Mason felt inside. “I’m…” He paused and cleared his throat, then glanced over at Jonah. “Am I supposed to say something?”
“Open it!” the family shouted around the table with excitement.
Pryce startled. “Okay!” He laughed and reached for the can.
Mason watched as he pried at the metal lid until it finally popped free. Pryce set the screwdriver on the table and lifted the lid.
The silence in the room was deafening and continued several long seconds after the contents were revealed. Mason’s brows pinched together as he stared at the can, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.
“Look, babe.” Carson nudged Breezy. “Your favorite color.”
“Yellow?” Cory finally asked what they were all wondering. “Is that a girl color or a boy color?”
“It’s both, or either,” Chloe said, smiling over at Breezy.
Confused, Mason looked over at his mother to see her eyes filled with pride, her lips turned up into a knowing grin.
Chloe turned and spoke to him and his brothers, her gaze darting between them and Gabby behind them. “I got to thinking while Gran and I were at the hardware store picking out colors,” she said nervously. “The nursery upstairs will be for all your grandchildren, girls, and hopefully boys, too,” she said and looked back at Breezy. “Our children won’t be the only grandchildren to share that room.”
Gabby’s grip tightened on Mason’s shoulder. He laid his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together when he felt her quiet tremble.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Chloe added with uncertainty.
“Mind?” Breezy squeaked as she pushed from the table. Chloe did the same, and they met behind Jonah in a tearful hug.
Sniffles echoed around the table. No one spoke openly of the issues Breezy and his oldest sons were having in the baby department, but they all knew how much Breezy struggled with losing hope. Mason had a feeling this tour they were going on was a way to reset, move forward. He didn’t know much about what that next step would be but hoped for their sakes that Chloe was right.
“Well,” Papa Joe harrumphed from the head of the table. “Are we ever gonna find out if this great-grandchild of ours is a girl or a boy, or do we get to move on to the cheesecake in the refrigerator with my name on it?”
“Josiah,” Gran warned.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” Chloe released Breezy and retrieved her phone from her purse.
After a few swipes and taps, Mason’s phone vibrated in his front pocket, the sound echoing around the table from the other phones in the room. He shifted in his seat, catching Gabby’s expectant grin above him as he pulled his phone from his pocket and flipped it over to the new message Chloe sent. A black and white photo of their unborn granddaughter appeared on the screen with a little pink bow superimposed on the top of her head.
“It’s a girl!” Matt jumped to his feet and pumped his fist in the air.
“What’d I tell ya?” Uncle Cade laughed.
Mason caught Cade’s gaze and the old buzzard winked. How the hell did he know? Maybe he hadn’t lost his edge quite yet after all.
As everyone gathered to congratulate Jonah, Chloe, and Pryce, Mason didn’t miss how Grey lingered in his seat, his attention fixed to his phone, a gobsmacked look on his face. When he finally did look up, Mason followed his gaze to Dani.
Grey eventually stood, catching Mason watching him. Something passed between them in that moment, a bizarre appreciation for one another rooted in both agony and joy. The twisted feeling didn’t make much sense, but for the first time in his life, Mason felt he fully understood his older brother.
Lively conversation buzzed around the room through the rest of dinner and dessert. Mason wasn’t sure what changed, but his appetite had returned with a vengeance. He was scarfing down a second piece of Gran’s cheesecake when his mother’s voice, curt and venomous, rose above the din.
“I don’t want to hear it!” She pounded her fist on the table, rattling the scattered dishes and snapping the room to attention.
Uncle Cade dropped his fork onto his plate. “It’s not as if I chose to die of cancer!” he snapped back at his sister.
“Cade.” Papa Daniel whispered a warning.
“No!” Gran threw off Papa Joe’s calming hand, her eyes ablaze with rage. “You chose not to fight!”
“Mom.” Grey tried to sooth her.
“I chose to die on my terms!” Uncle Cade snarled back, his face void of any emotion, which concerned Mason even more than his mother�
�s rage. “I will not—” Cade paused, then glanced around the table. His already pallid appearance seemed to wither even more as he slumped in his seat and picked up his fork. “Now is not the time, Hazel,” he said as he stared at his plate.
“Of course not!” Her frail hands shaking, Hazel tossed her napkin onto her plate and shoved to her feet, sending her chair clamoring against the wall behind her. “It’s never the time. We’re all supposed to just go on about our business, blind, deaf, and dumb to you wasting away, and ignore your stubborn, heartless selfishness. Well, I won’t do it anymore,” she declared. “I can’t!”
The entire family sat motionless and slack-jawed as she stormed out of the room, the front door slamming closed behind her.
“She’s gonna regret that in the mornin’,” Papa Jake said with a remorseful sigh.
Papa Joe and Gabby slid out of their seats at the same time. “I’ll see to her,” Papa Joe insisted, motioning for Gabby to sit back down.
“No. I’ll go.” Uncle Cade wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin onto his plate.
“Maybe you should give her some time,” Daniel suggested.
Uncle Cade ignored Daniel’s advice and moved to stand, but Papa Nate laid a staying hand on his arm. “She’s grieving,” he said, the glare in his eyes teetering between a warning and a plea.
A pained sigh rushed from Uncle Cade’s lips as he pushed from his seat. “I know.” His head bowed, his shoulders slumped, he paced toward the door, but paused with his back still to the room. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Chloe, then at Jonah and Pryce before he shuffled out of the room and down the hall without another word.
Chapter Eight
Several hours later, Daniel sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at the sliver of white light that escaped from beneath the bathroom door. Water hissed from the tap, the muted sound easing his anxiety a fraction as he waited for Cade to finish his bedtime ritual.
“Damn,” he breathed into the quiet bedroom, massaging some of the tension from his neck.
Cade’s diagnosis, his refusal to seek treatment, and his adamant insistence that life go on as usual, had started the clock on a ticking time bomb. He knew it was only a matter of time before it blew, sending a shockwave through the entire family.
Having abandoned dinner, the whole family had paced the house like trapped cattle. The air of celebration had been replaced by whispered worries and sniffles that had drifted in and out of earshot as he’d stood watch by the window with Papa Joe. Cade and Hazel’s raised voices had soon turned to anguished cries, the sound ripping at their hearts as he and Joe watched over the loves of their lives in the inky darkness that encapsulated the McLendons’ front porch.
The hour was late when Hazel had finally cried herself out and Joe, Nate, and Jake gathered her up and took her home. He’d waited until they were gone to go to Cade, hoping to give him time to collect himself, but as he’d stepped onto the porch, Cade had collapsed into his arms.
Now that they were home, Daniel’s ankle throbbed, having twisted it in his efforts to break Cade’s fall. His feet ached to be freed from his boots, but he thought it best not to undress until Cade was tucked into bed. The stubborn man had refused help getting into and out of Cory’s truck, or climbing the stairs, insisting he was just tired. While that may be true, his marked increase in muscle weakness and fatigue was something neither of them could ignore any longer. It was time to consider some changes.
The water turned off and Daniel tensed. He was about to get up and check on him when Cade opened the bathroom door, his eyes red-rimmed and as droopy as an old hound’s.
Daniel shoved to his feet.
“Don’t,” Cade gritted out, his voice nearing a growl.
“I’m worried about you,” Daniel insisted, ignoring Cade’s clipped response. Exhaustion and the side effects of his pain medication had made him understandably irritable.
Cade ignored his presence as he undressed and slipped beneath the covers. The tension between them dragged on, growing thicker with every passing second. Unwilling to allow Cade to shut him out, Daniel remained rooted in place, waiting for Cade to talk to him.
“I was wrong to ask them to ignore this.” The sound of defeat in Cade’s voice when he finally spoke was as heavy as the regret in his eyes.
Daniel crawled into bed beside him, looking up at his longtime lover and friend. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast dark shadows across his face, highlighting his extreme fatigue, persuading him not to mention the changes he’d wanted to discuss.
“There’s no right or wrong,” he said instead, tangling his fingers with Cade’s.
Cade dropped his head back against the headboard. “I saw the looks in their eyes,” he continued as if Daniel hadn’t spoken. “They all feel like Hazel does, don’t they?” Avoiding the question, Daniel brought Cade’s hand to his lips. When he peered back up, Cade was staring at him. “I’ll take your silence as my answer.”
Daniel hesitated, searching for the gentle words that would give Cade the peace he sought, but in all the decades they’d spent together he’d never lied to Cade, and he wasn’t about to start now.
“You already know they do,” he answered.
Cade turned away, shaking his head in denial.
“You knew they would want you to fight this. You knew I would want you to.”
“I didn’t—”
“Yes, you did.” Daniel’s eyes stung as he met Cade’s glassy stare. “You knew if we asked you to fight this, you’d have done it, despite the odds, or the pain and suffering you’d have had to endure.” Cade tried to argue again, but Daniel held up a staying hand. “Which is why I’m glad you never gave us a chance to ask,” he finished.
In his head, he’d pleaded with Cade a million times to fight the cancer that was eating him alive. In his heart, he knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. The type of cancer that had invaded Cade’s pancreas had a near one-hundred-percent mortality rate. Seeing him suffer, losing a piece of himself day after day… As hard as it was to admit, he was thankful for Cade’s courage to make the hard choices he’d made.
Faced with Cade’s silence, Daniel let go of his hand and slid off the mattress. He walked around to Cade’s side of the bed and pulled up the blankets, tucking him in before he turned off the light. Breathing through the knot lodged in his throat, he leaned down and touched his lips to Cade’s, savoring the saltiness of a tear that fell between them.
In the darkness, he could pretend. For the next few heartbeats, there was no cancer. No pain, grief, or regret. No more goodbyes left to be said. In the darkness, there was only them, and a legacy of a love that bound them together forever.
“I love you,” he whispered when Cade drifted off to sleep.
His feet and ankle still throbbing, he stepped as lightly as he could from the room, careful not to make a sound as he closed the door behind him. A low hum of familiar voices met him at the base of the stairs, reminding him it would still be a while before he would find the quiet he craved.
“Is he okay?” Gabby’s whispered question alerted the others who’d followed them home, all of whom appeared from the kitchen with worried, tired expressions.
Daniel nodded. “He’s exhausted but okay.”
“You look like you can use some rest yourself,” Grey suggested.
“Yeah,” he sighed, catching Breezy’s attentive gaze. “I think it’s time to talk about that full-time help option you told us about.”
“Anything you need, just ask,” Breezy said, taking his hand. Too tired to fight the tears that threatened, he gave her a silent nod. “I’ll make some calls in the morning,” she continued, “and then come by with lunch to go over all the options and details.” She wrapped her arms around his middle, and he hugged her back until he was sure he could speak without losing the thread of control he’d managed to muster.
“That would be great,” he managed when she let him go. “Thank you.”
As so
on as she stepped away, his granddaughter took her place and pulled him down for a hug. “Call me when you wake up, and I’ll bring over breakfast.” The tears in her eyes beckoned his own again, so he gave her a silent jerky nod. “You don’t need to worry about anything.”
“Thanks, Ace,” he said, using Cade’s pet name for her.
“We’ll head home and let you get some sleep.” Matt herded the family toward the front of the hall, a cool night breeze whisking inside when he opened the door.
“I love you, Papa.” Dani gave him one more hug.
“Love you, too.” He let her go and followed them to the door, graciously accepting more hugs and kisses, but ultimately, thankful they weren’t going to linger.
“Night, Papa,” Jonah said with a somber frown.
Daniel stopped him in the doorway. “Sorry about ruining your big night.”
“Nobody ruined anything,” his grandson assured him, and pulled him into a gentle hug. “Get some rest, and call us if you need anything,” he insisted.
When the last of the taillights disappeared at the end of their driveway, he closed and locked the front door. Halfway across the kitchen, he noticed the freshly washed dishes sitting on the drain board, courtesy of Gabby, no doubt.
Exhaustion held him in a relentless grip as he paced to the sink, snatched up a glass, and filled it with water. As he brought it to his lips, a bottle on the counter caught his attention. He’d always been more of a beer kind of guy, but the amber liquid Cade preferred proved too tempting to ignore. He dumped the water and grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the way to the den, kicking off his boots the second his ass hit the sofa.
Surrounded by the shadows of the past, he poured himself a double and settled into the quiet room. Even in the darkness, he could see the faces in the pictures that lined the hearth and decorated the walls. One in particular caught his attention, and he abandoned his comfortable seat to retrieve it from the mantle. Tucked behind several other dusty frames, he accidentally bumped the one beside it, which tumbled to the floor.