by Kelly Oram
I feel like I shouldn’t be here. Like I’m intruding on something entirely too intimate and personal. I want to slip outside, wait in the hall or something, but I can’t seem to make my feet move. I can’t look away. The kiss is simple and sweet, but it’s a real open-mouthed, lasting kiss. It’s just enough to make Rosie feel like she’s really been kissed without being too much.
When Wes breaks it and pulls back, Rosie is crying. Wes wipes her tears and gives her a soft smile. “You’re a natural. You’re going to knock the socks off all those hot angel guys up in heaven, and you’re going to break my heart when you leave me.”
Oh my gosh, he’s perfect. He’s so perfect. This scene is too heartbreaking. I can’t hold back my tears any longer. They well up in my eyes, and as I blink, they begin to roll down my cheeks. I’m not embarrassed. Everyone is crying now.
Rosie manages a smile for Wes and lifts her hand to his cheek. “Don’t be sad, Wes,” she whispers. “We have to be brave now. I will if you will.”
Wes swallows. It takes him a second to form a reply. “Take care of my mom when she comes. At least until I can get there. And say hi to Spencer for me. He’ll be the coolest red-headed geek up there.”
A startled cry escapes me at the mention of Spencer, and all eyes suddenly turn to me. I ignore all the confused looks from Rosie’s visitors and force an apologetic smile her way. “Sorry.” I have to sniff before I can speak again. “Wes is right. You’re going to love Spencer. I’m sure he’ll be ready and waiting to show you all around.” I suck in a breath and fail at my attempt to speak with a steady voice. “Take care of him for us.”
Rosie meets my gaze with a solemn nod. “I will.” It’s an earnest promise. “If you take care of Wes for me. I’m sorry about the other day, Bailey. I just get so jealous. You get to live.” Her eyes flick to Wes, and she adds, “You get to stay with Wes, and the way he talks about you… I know you’ll make him happy.”
I open my mouth to protest—I’m just about the last person on earth who could make him happy—but she continues on before I can argue. “I love him,” she says simply.
Wes makes a strangled noise and can barely get her name out. “Rosie…”
Rosie smiles at Wes. “No, I do. I love you, Wes.” She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I know you don’t feel the same way about me, but I don’t mind. I’m still glad I met you. I’m glad I got to feel love.”
Wes vigorously shakes his head. “I love you, too, Rosie.”
My heart gives out at the confession but starts back up again when Rosie rolls her eyes. “Like a sister, maybe.”
Despite the devastation in the atmosphere, Wes manages a laugh. “Like a stepsister,” he negotiates. “A hot one.”
Rosie’s face lights up again, and she giggles. The break in tension is exactly the push I need to do what I should have done forever ago. I slip out of the room to give them their privacy, and I’m certain my disappearance goes unnoticed.
Out in the hall, I’m finally able to catch my breath. I’m completely gutted after witnessing that tender good-bye. Wes keeps things bottled up inside, but it’s obvious he’s got a tender heart. How he’s going to survive Rosie’s death and then his mother’s right after that is beyond me. I’m heartbroken for him, and I don’t even know Rosie.
This entire past year, I’ve been wallowing in my own misery, my own guilt. I was hurt. I missed Spencer. I was lonely. Me. Me. Me. I’d never wondered how Wes was dealing with it. Yeah, we hadn’t had a good relationship when Spencer died, but I knew how much Wes loved Spencer. And I knew what kind of guy he was. Well, how he was with everyone except me. How had I managed to write him off so completely after Spencer’s death? How had I ever managed to forget him the way I had, and never cared about his well-being? I was so selfish.
Deciding it’s time to worry about others for a change, I head over to the nurses station. The woman behind the desk is someone I’ve met a couple times during my hours here at the hospital. Her name is Britta, and she’s a large woman who could win a look-alike competition for Mrs. Santa Claus. She’s always been very nice to me. The sad smile she gives me when I approach tells me she knows why I’m here and that Wes is, too. “Evening, sugar. You doing okay?”
I nod. It’s not me she should be worried about. “Wes is still with Rosie.”
Britta’s face falls a little more as she nods. “I’m glad you both made it.”
I take a breath. “Me too. Uh, they looked like they needed some privacy, so I was thinking maybe I’d go say hi to Mrs. Delaney. Is she up for having visitors?”
Some of the cheer creeps back into Britta’s face. “I’m sure she’d love that.”
“Do you know which room?”
“337, dear. Down the other hall.”
“Thanks.”
My feet drag as I make my way to Wes’s mom’s room. I’m not sure why. I always really liked Mrs. Delaney. I guess maybe I just feel guilty for allowing her to believe Wes and I got along all those years. Like with my mom, we’d never let Wes’s parents pick up on the animosity between us. I’m not sure why we hid it from our parents, but it seemed some unspoken rule between us that we always acted like the best of friends when our parents were around. I’m sure in Mrs. Delaney’s eyes it looked like I’d abandoned Wes after Spencer died. She probably hates me now.
Her door is cracked slightly open, and the light is on, but I don’t hear any sounds from the room. I knock softly enough that I shouldn’t wake her if she’s sleeping. “Come in,” her soft voice calls. It’s not quite as weak as Rosie’s, but it’s close enough that my gut twists.
Shaking the nerves out of my hands, I take a deep breath as I step into the room, bracing myself for whatever reception I might receive.
I hadn’t thought it would be possible, but Mrs. Delaney looks even worse off than Rosie. It isn’t necessarily in her physical appearance. She’s pale, bald, and rail thin with dark circles beneath her eyes and sunken-in cheeks the same as Rosie, but more than that she has a haggard feeling about her. She’s been battling her cancer for over a year now, and it shows. She looks exhausted. Still, as tired and sick as she is, her face softens when she sees me, and she holds out a hand to me with a pleased smile. “Bailey. I was wondering when you would come see me.”
Guilt swamps me. I’ve been trying to get myself to come visit since the moment I learned she was here. It took seeing Rosie in her last few hours for me to gather up the courage. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Delaney. I should have come sooner.”
Her face is one of loving compassion, and she pats the side of her bed, encouraging me to sit with her. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. I know things have been strained between you and Wes. I don’t blame you for keeping your distance after Spencer died.”
“You knew?”
Her smile turns almost rueful. “I know my son, Bailey. It wasn’t difficult to see what was really going on with the three of you. I always wished there was a way I could have helped, stepped in like a good mom and magically made everything okay, but sometimes there just isn’t an easy solution. Sometimes life just has to run its course.”
I swallow hard as I finally sit on the edge of her bed. I get the feeling she isn’t only talking about my complicated relationship with her son. And I know how she feels. If I could magically step in and make her better, or bring Spencer back, I would. But I can’t. Like she said, life just has to run its course, no matter how unfair it is.
Mrs. Delaney smiles again and takes my hand into her cool soft ones. “I’m sorry if Wes has made things difficult for you over the years. He hasn’t had an easy life. Not that that’s an excuse for his behavior. But I’m grateful you never gave up on him.” She locks me in a serious, almost determined gaze. “You haven’t given up on him, have you?”
I suck in a quiet breath as Mrs. Delaney stares me down, waiting for an answer. Before the internship, I would have said yes, but over the last few weeks, I’ve realized how much I still want him in my life. “No,” I whisper, giving my hea
d a gentle shake. “No, I haven’t given up on him.”
She relaxes and lets her tired eyes fall shut. “Good. Please don’t. He’s a good boy, but he’s so independent. He would never admit it—not even to himself—but he needs you.”
I don’t want to argue with a dying woman, but I don’t want to lie to her, either, or let her create a false sense of hope. “I’m not sure that’s true. Wes has never—”
“It’s true.” She pats the top of my hand. “He needs you. Now more than ever.” She opens her eyes again, and they mist over as she gives me a pleading look. “Make me a promise.”
I stiffen. I have a feeling I know what she’s going to ask, and I’m not sure I can do it. I’m not sure Wes will let me.
“Take care of him for me when I’m gone,” she says predictably. “He’s going to be so alone. His father isn’t good at…well, he closes himself off. Wes, too.” She sighs. “It won’t be easy, but he’s going to need you, sweetheart. Please promise me you’ll look out for him.”
“I—” My throat feels like it’s closing up. I’m choking on anxiety. “I want to promise you that, Mrs. Delaney. I do. But Wes won’t let me. He’s never let me in. Especially not now. I think…I think he hates me. I think he blames me for Spencer’s death.”
“Oh, that’s not true.” Mrs. Delaney closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath. Letting it out with a wistful sigh, she says, “I miss that boy.”
My eyes well up again at the simple confession. Everyone loved Spencer. Of the three of us, he should have been the last to go. He was the best of us all. “Me too.”
Mrs. Delaney opens her eyes when she hears the turmoil in my voice. She reaches for a tissue on the small table beside her bed and hands it to me with a smile so sad it hurts my heart. “You kids should never have had to feel such pain and sadness at your age. It’s just not right to lose someone so young. And Wes, well, he’s lost—is losing—too much. More than any one person can bear alone. When I’m gone, Bailey, you’re going to be nearly all he has left. Even if he fights you. Even if it’s hard. Please. Promise me you’ll try. Be there for my son, Bailey. I’m so scared for his future.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and fight against the sobs building in my chest.
“Promise me, Bailey.”
“I promise.” The answer is ripped from my chest along with a sob.
Mrs. Delaney holds her arms open, and I carefully lean into them. Though I can tell she’s squeezing with all her might, her hug is so weak it strikes fear into my heart. She really doesn’t have much time left.
“You’re such a good girl,” Mrs. Delaney coos. “I know you’ll do right by my Wes. You’re what he needs now.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Delaney,” I blubber. “I’m sorry you won’t get to be there. I’m sorry you have to hand this job off to me.”
“Oh, I’ll be there, sweetie, don’t you worry. I’ll be watching over you both.” She sits me up and brushes the hair out of my eyes. “I’ve been praying for a miracle for months, Bailey. Asking for an angel to watch over Wes or someone to come into his life before my time was up. He’s been different these last couple of weeks. Stronger, more hopeful. I know that’s because of you.”
I shake my head in denial, but I can’t voice any protests because I want to believe her. Part of me is desperate to believe her. Having Wes back in my life these past few weeks, as painful as it’s been, has changed me, too. It’s given me hope where there was none. It’s helped me face my demons, allowing me to begin the healing process I need so badly. Maybe it’s the same for him. Maybe someday he’ll be able to look at me without pain in his eyes. The way he clings to me when he lets his guard down…maybe someday he won’t have to break through any walls to have those moments with me.
“It is because of you, Bailey,” Mrs. Delaney insists. “You’re getting through to him. Slowly, but you are. You’re the only person who’s been able to reach him like that since Spencer. Keep trying. He’ll soften up. I know he will.”
Finally, I nod. “Okay. I will. I promise.” This time, the promise is sincere. Whether he ever lets me in or not, I will do what I can to be his friend. For his mother’s sake. And for mine. And for his. I can’t stand the thought of him being so alone.
“Bailey!” Spencer pops into existence beside Mrs. Delaney’s bed, startling me so badly my heart skips a beat.
Mrs. Delaney gasps. “Spencer!”
“Hi, Mrs. D.” He shoots her a sheepish smile before looking at me. The worry on his face has my heart racing. “Bailey, Wes needs you.”
I scramble to my feet. “What happened? Where is he?”
“Spencer?” Mrs. Delaney says again, in a smaller voice cracking with emotion. “Is it really you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry to steal Bailey from you, but Wes needs her right now.”
Her voice turns forceful, and she sits up away from her headrest. “What’s wrong with my son?”
“Rosie’s gone?” I ask, putting the pieces together.
Spencer gives me a sad nod. “He’s not doing very well.”
“Where is he?”
“Outside, on a bench near the main lobby.”
I know exactly where he means. It was the same bench I’d crashed onto several times at the end of my shifts when I felt overloaded with emotions.
Spencer pulls me from my thoughts. “Go, Bailey. He’s falling apart. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“But…” My stomach rolls as panic sets in. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him.”
“Just go to him,” Mrs. Delaney urges.
“Get him away from here,” Spencer adds. His eyes light up as if he’s just thought of a genius plan. “Take him to the Turtle Back Zoo.”
The randomness of the location breaks through my panic. “The zoo?”
“Yeah, you know, the little one off Northfield Avenue, over by the lake.”
“I know it…but…why?”
“Just trust me. Take him to the zoo.”
I still didn’t get it. “But it’s after nine on a Monday. It’s closed.”
Spencer shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Just take him for a drive and end up at the zoo. Sit in the parking lot and talk or something. But just trust me on this.”
Like with the time capsule, Spencer isn’t going to give me all the details. Still, I give in with a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I’ll take him to the zoo. You’re insane, Spencer, you know that?”
He gives me a wide grin. “I love you, Bay. Now go.”
“Please,” Mrs. Delaney says. “Go help my son.”
When I nod and start to walk out, Mrs. Delaney grins at Spencer. “And you, young man, come over here and give a dying woman a kiss.”
Spencer sighs. “I wish I could, Mrs. D. But I I’m not exactly corporeal right now.”
“I don’t care. You get over here and give it your best shot.”
I need to find Wes, but I can’t help standing in the doorway of the hospital room watching as Spencer leans over and brushes his lips near Mrs. Delaney’s cheek. “Best I can do,” he teases.
He sits down on the edge of her bed in the same place I’d just been and gives her a sad smile. “How are you, Mrs. D?”
“Better now,” she replies. Her smile fades quickly. “I’m assuming if you’re here it’s not long now, is it?”
Spencer shakes his head. “Sorry, Mrs. D. Is it awful if I admit I’m ready for the company?”
My heart clenches. I hurt for Spencer. I hurt for Mrs. Delaney. And I especially hurt for Wes. Mrs. Delaney’s really going to die soon. Wes is going to lose his mother right on the heels of losing Rosie, and after spending the last year dealing with the loss of his best friend. I can’t stand it. It’s too much. The thought of him being all alone strengthens my resolve, and I go to find him.
Wes is sitting on the bench outside right where Spencer said he would be. The hospital is big enough that there are plenty of people still coming and going at this time of nigh
t, yet somehow Wes looks completely cut off from the world sitting just outside the reach of the main entrance lights.
He’s hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, holding his head in his hands. Tucked off to the side of the main walkway as he is, there’s plenty of light to see by and yet just enough shadows to hide the evidence of his tears until I sit down next to him. It’s too dark to get a really clear look at his face, but I’m sure his eyes are red-rimmed and his nose is swollen and red from crying. He says nothing when I sit, makes no sign that he’s even aware of my presence.
“Wes…”
When I place my hand gently on his back, he sits up, swiping furiously at his wet cheeks, before he folds his arms tightly across his chest. “I’m fine,” he says gruffly, glaring at the ground.
I want to let it go. My instinct is to say nothing and let him deal with his grief however he wants. When I lost Spencer, all I ever wanted was for people to leave me alone, and I hated it when they didn’t. But Mrs. Delaney’s urgent pleas to be there for Wes, even if he tries not to let me, are echoing in my mind, and I can’t let the silence ride.
“You’re not fine.”
Startled by my contradiction, Wes turns his glare on me. I shake my head, ignoring his anger. “It’s okay to be not fine right now,” I say gently but firmly. “I’m not fine, and I didn’t even know her.”
After a moment of holding my gaze, Wes’s tough exterior cracks. He leans toward me and lays his head on my shoulder, crumbling both mentally and physically. The instant I wrap my arms around him, he falls completely apart, shattering from the inside out. His body convulses as loud, gut-wrenching sobs explode from deep within his chest. He buries his forehead in the crook of my neck and clings to my sides like a small child, trembling so hard my vision blurs from the vibration.
I hold him tight and let him ruin my shirt with his tears. I’ve never seen a man cry before, but I know this isn’t a typical breakdown. Wes isn’t simply dealing with the grief of losing a friend to cancer. This is a year’s worth of repressed pain and suffering. It’s all of his exhaustion, anger, and fear finally coming to a head. He’s crying for Spencer right now—possibly for the first time—and he’s crying for Rosie, and for his mother. He’s crying for himself. For the loneliness he’s endured this past year and for the bleak future ahead of him.