dots

She takes a deep breath and turns back to him, a smile permanently affixed.

  “She knew, my mom I mean. She had called me at the dorms and asked me to move back home that morning. I was ahead in all of my classes, why not?” I don’t know if he realizes we’re still in the room.

  “That morning? The last thing on my mind was cancer. But the minute I got her phone call, I felt like I needed to hear her laugh one more time. I was consumed with the thought. Instead of heading into the pool for practice, I detoured to the library. Where I looked up every cancer-fighting food I could find. I wanted to make a super duper cancer fighting salad with a twist.”

  His Gram settles back into the couch, relaxing.

  There’s a ghost of a smile as he continues. “I came in with my bag, and she was sitting at the table, looking at her wedding rings, the only jewelry my dad didn’t repossess. They lay on a piece of cloth on the table, and she was polishing them. The look of grief on her face was too much.

  “I poured the fruit from the fruit bowl out and watched as the apples rolled into her vision.

  “Oblivious to the fruit rolling around, she simply said. ‘Make sure I’m buried with these, Mason.’

  “I ignored that. I wasn’t ready to talk about that. She was too depressed. I needed to do something pronto, or I’d lose her to her tears.

  “So I dumped all of the items in my brown paper bag into the now-empty fruit bowl.

  “‘Gram!’ I yelled. ‘I brought salad!’

  “My mom looked up then and saw the bowl full of unwashed vegetables. ‘What’s that?’ she asked, but it didn’t sound like she really cared.

  “‘It’s a super duper cancer fighting salad mom. I made it just for you.’

  “She reached across the table and grabbed a cucumber with the sticker still on it and looked at me over her glasses.

  “‘That’s just extra fiber.’ She laid it down on the table, next to the bowl.

  “I picked a hunk off the top. ‘What about broccoli, Mom? You love broccoli.’

  “‘When it’s cooked.’

  “‘How about turnips? There’s…’ I grabbed something off of the top. Not sure of its name. So I sniffed it.

  “Then it happened. The tinkling bells of her laughter. ‘That’s a Brussels sprout, top chef.’

  “My chest swelled. I had all of her attention now. Why not sprinkle a little goofball on this situation? I picked two of the craziest-looking turnips, stem and root still attached, a rather flowery piece of broccoli. And to finish it off, I chose the golf-ball-sized cauliflower.

  “Gram came in, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

  “Mom turned to you and said, ‘Mason made me a superfoods cancer fighting salad, but forgot to clean the vegetables.’ She turned back to me, with a sparkle in her eye. ‘Is dirt on that duper list, Mase?’

  “I chuckled, pulled a seat out for Gram because I’m a big ham and need everyone’s attention at all times.” He winks at us on the couch. I give him a reassuring smile and take Gram’s hand. She looks at me with tears in her eyes, but she’s nodding and smiling.

  “She was 100% present, and I just wanted to keep her there, you know? Totally in the moment and without a thought for how I looked or sounded. I used my hand as a megaphone and began barking, ‘Your attention please. Turn your eye to the center ring where Mason the Great will juggle the great man-eating superfoods!’

  We laugh as he simulates it for us.

  “Man-eaters?” I laugh.

  He gives me an apologetic shrug. “It was the best I could come up with on short notice.

  “There were claps and oohs and aahs from the peanut gallery. Gram gave up on drying dishes and pulled a chair up next to Mom. Tenderly, she enfolded my giggling mother, and kissed her hollow cheek, before turning back to me. ‘All right, Mason the Great. Let’s get this show on the road! I paid good money for it.’ That only made my mom laugh harder.

  “My hand hovered over each vegetable, ‘By applause, ladies.’ They clapped twice for the turnips, which did indeed still have the root attached. I was rewarded by their laughter as I held two up by their tail. ‘Wikipedia said the root is the superest part.’ And I bit off a hairy tail and ate it.

  “Mom’s face screwed up like a little girl’s. ‘Ewww, Ewwww!’” The face he makes is priceless. Like a little girl looking at a bug.

  Mason takes a sip of a cocktail, and Gram turns to me with a grimace. “He did. I thought it was gonna get tangled around his intestines.” She’s absolutely thrilled. “I couldn’t believe he actually did that.”

  “Gram, I couldn’t believe it either. It tasted like a spoonful of dirt.”

  “Then, I picked out two more vegetables that looked similar to a ball and started juggling.

  “‘She was always pushing the sprouts,’” I joked, using a Groucho Marx voice.

  Mason takes the four tennis balls off the table and starts to juggle as he talks.

  “‘I have to admit, it was a little optimistic of me to think my mom would eat this,’ I said and pushed the other turnip to my mouth and took a bite before tossing it back in the mix. ‘Hey, Ma, I really hope I’m not allergic,’” I said and winked.

  “‘Me too, I don’t wanna spend the last of my days in an ER…with you!’ She threw her head back snorted with laughter, when she saw my goofy look of surprise. Remember, Gram?”

  “I do.”

  I’d thought I’d seen every smile that Mason had, but the one he wears as he juggles for us, caught between here and there, that smile is meant for the past.

  He tosses each ball higher as he says, “This is called the stir-fry.” I know these are the same words his mother heard, and I feel a sense of bonding, maybe? Like a nurturing feeling.

  Mason stops the balls and throws one to each dog.

  He exchanges a look with Gram and continues.

  “I really made her happy. Remember, Gram? It was truly the last good day.”

  He sits across from us.

  “I didn’t care about the weird looks I got when the paramedics arrived. They came in tripping over turnips and mashing cauliflower into the floors.

  “We had a moment. I didn’t know just how few of those we had left to share. It was the last good day, because she still remembered me. Less than a week later she was gone.”

  Both Gram and I get up and embrace Mason, the dogs jumping all around us.

  As we say our goodbyes, Mason pulls us both into a hug. “My two favorite women, smile.” He snaps a picture.

  His Gram protests. “Wait, now, Mason, let me get my lips on.” and pulls a tube out of her bra, which Mason snaps a picture of.

  She gives him a warning as she pats her lips together. “Now, I don’t want to see that on the Eff It List, Mason. Cheese!”

  Mason

  Chloe falls asleep on the way home. The Uber driver, a woman, stops at the curb. “C’mon, get up. You can sleep when you’re dead.”

  She opens one eye. “I was hovering.”

  “More like sleeping one off.” I get out as she looks around. “C’mon, I want one for my scrapbook.”

  She raises her eyebrow, but I see the devilish glint as soon as she sees the infamous fountain. “Are we taking it dry or wet?” she asks, already kicking off her shoes.

  I roll my eyes. “Let’s try not to get ‘arrested,’ Chloe.”

  We walk to the wall, and I help her to stand on it. She’s a little unsteady. When she tries to apologize, I won’t hear it. “Say cheese.”

  She does, and it’s one iPhone photo I know I’m going to print. She’s cheesy, winky, giving me rabbit ears, covering my eyes, hugging me. I’ll print them all.

  We walk back to the Uber after admiring the water. “You’re right. It is the Taj Mahal.”

  I stop in front of the furniture store. It’s crowded. I know she doesn’t want to put on the mask and have everyone staring at her. She brought one in to Gram’s but wouldn’t even wear it there. Didn’t want to scare the dogs or some other lame excuse.

>   After a minute she shakes her head, trying to pull me away. “I don’t want them to think I’m robbing them.”

  I go with her to the car. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” And I drop another hundred.

  I run in, find the section I need, and snap four photos in the space of a few minutes. I’m back before the Uber driver has a chance to even look pissed. I jump in the back.

  “Well? What’d you get?”

  “Nothing yet. I need your help. See, I have a friend who won’t sleep anywhere else but on a sagging, sweating futon. So I went in and tried a few out.” I hand her my phone. “These are the pictures in order of comfort. Start with number 1: fashionable but hard. To number 5: my personal favorite.”

  “It looks like a plaid shirt,” she gripes, wrinkling her nose.

  “It feels like a cloud, Chloe.”

  “I’ll take it.” She hands me the phone. I dial the manager I talked to in the store and manage to get a delivery set up. After giving him the address, I notice Chloe looking at me funny.

  “What? Too plaid?” I ask.

  “No, that’s not it. I was just wondering, right now, in this moment, how I got so lucky to find you. I’ve got friends, Mason, but you. I’m invested in you. Last week I was writing myself off, and today I’m okay with getting a new couch. I didn’t feel the need to say, ‘Don’t bother, I’m dying anyway.’ So, thanks for that, Mason.”

  “I’m flattered but shocked. I thought you were going to ask how I got your address.”

  She laughs. “Oh, Mason. I know you think you’re some kind of computer geek savant, but even I know, with my limited Yelp experience, how you did it. You hacked your own program and got all my personals. I’m flattered, really. I’ve never been stalked this hard in my life.”

  When we arrive in front of her apartment, I help her out of the car. On the way up, I notice someone sitting in the shadows.

  “Don Paulo!” she wails as he runs down the stairs to greet her. He scoops her in his arms and swings her wide. As she peppers his face with kisses, he laughs out loud. “Chlo-bug, I’ve missed you, I couldn’t wait.”

  She introduces me and has to throw in the part about the cartel. He laughs as she clings to him.

  And this is my cue. I say bye and turn to go. “Wait. One minute.”

  She heads into the house, her not boyfriend at her heels. And comes back with a picture. “For your photo album.”

  I look down, puzzled. “I don’t know this person. Who is she?”

  “Oh, you will if Gram and I have anything to say about it. Meet your new obsession. “Lola. Stalk well, Mason.”

  I stare at the picture on the way back home. It’s a beach shot. A blonde in a bikini. A star-spangled bikini. The triangles look to be the size of tortilla chips. I lay it on the frame Gram gave me.

  When I get home, I put it on the big screen and examine it. That’s some picture. When I fall asleep that night, it’s with the nagging question, why is she making that face??

  Chloe

  By the time the couch arrives, we’ve officially killed my old futon. Broke it in half.

  He doesn’t ask about Mason. But I’m not going to let that stop me from showing him our video chats. I don’t need to explain. We just eat his mom’s empanadas and watch. He doesn’t comment, just holds me. We’ve moved the old futon mattress to the floor.

  He stiffens at times. I know it’s hard to hear us talk so flippantly about my death. I hug him to me.

  “He’s a good guy. I just hope he knows that you’re taken.”

  “But you’re not. Any prospects yet?”

  He glares at me. “Not funny, Chloe. I don’t like when you say things like that.”

  I know. It’s too painful for all of them. Except Mason. “I’m sorry. But, yes, he knows I only have eyes for you. Besides, I’ve got something planned for him.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “I’m giving him to Lola.”

  He smirks. “Does Lola know that?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet, but I’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse.”

  “Are you gonna whack them if they don’t go along with your plan?”

  “No, nothing that drastic. I’ll put it in the form of a dying wish.”

  “Chloe…”

  “No, Paul, for once, I’m not thinking of an end. I’m thinking of a beginning.”

  He looks in my eyes, sees that I’m serious, and grins. “Finally, you’ll marry me.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny. I wouldn’t be ready for that, even if I wasn’t sick. Do you know, I’ve been overdosing Queen Sheba on pot smoke this whole time? Nope, definitely not ready for domesticity. But I’ll throw you a bone and have sex again.”

  He nuzzles my neck, kissing along my jaw line.

  ‘Besides, you have nothing to worry about. You should have seen him with the Uber driver that was hitting on me. Paid him to knock it off. No fists or bad words. Just tossed a hundred on the seat and said something like, ‘That’s for the look.’ I didn’t get it. But the Uber driver sure did. Maybe you could hire him as personal bodyguard.”

  He laughs. “Or maybe I’ll save the money and take a bullet. So I can be with you.” it started as a joke, I know. But I see in his eyes he’s not going to let me go quietly.

  “I’m over all that,” I say.

  “All what?”

  “Dying.”

  “It’s about time,” he says and kisses my lips like they’re the most delicate petals.

  We watch movies and fall asleep camping out on the floor.

  I wake when Paul places a soft kiss on my nose. “I’ll see you Saturday, mi Amor.” I snuggle into the pillow he vacated, missing him already.

  ……

  Mason

  I’m surprised to hear the ping of my program. I look at the clock, not even midnight yet.

  Chloe’s heart. I click it.

  “You liar!” she screams at the top of her lungs.

  I cringe. “What? Did something happen?” Involuntarily, my mind starts trying to find what it is that I’ve done to offend her.

  She yells, “It’s red leather, not plaid granny panties! And I love it!”

  I chuckle, relieved. “Indoor voices please.”

  She giggles. “Can you see me? On my new, very stylish futon?”

  I nod. “It brings out your vocal chords. I thought you’d be asleep, or not sleeping.”

  “It was an unsanctioned visit. He got prison visiting hours for showing up unannounced.”

  “Well, I hope you gave him something for good behavior. I don’t know if I could’ve been that cool if I saw a guy bringing you home…well, you know.”

  Then I look up and see the star-spangled bikini. “Hey, why’d you give me that picture?”

  “I don’t know. But I felt like you should have it. And I’ve been trusting my gut lately. You’re a prime example of that.”

  “Why is she making that face? It’s been driving me crazy.”

  She laughs. “Oh! That’s a great story. You’ll have one thing to talk about, besides moi, when you meet her.”

  I’m never going to get a straight answer out of her. “Chloe…”

  “What’s your stance on blowjobs?” She catches me off guard.

  “Uh, I support them? Where’d that come from?”

  “Can you make something work past six months? A relationship, I mean?”

  When I don’t answer right away, she taps the front of her computer screen. “Hey, focus! It’s a matter of life and death.”

  I can’t help it. “Is this matter of life and death like the time when you thought you got arrested?”

  She looks up and thinks for a minute. “Maybe. Okay, you got me. Touché. Not life and death, but I need your answer.”

  “Chloe, I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I would hope I could hang in there, at least for…seven months.”

  With a twinkle in her eyes, she asks., “I have one simple question, and I want a simple answer.
Are you in or are you out?”

  Because it’s Chloe, and I would do anything for her, I answer without another thought. “I’m in.”

  “I’m so proud of you right now, you don’t even know, Mason F#ckit List Dixon!” she yells.

  I love the color in her cheeks. She looks like she just got her sparkle back.

  “Thanks for the Gram time. I loved it.”

  “We loved having you there.”

  “Was it weird, you know, meeting me in person?”

  “Other than the fact you almost got kidnapped by the Uber guy, you mean?”

  She laughs, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glowing. “Yes.”

  I think about it. “No, surprisingly, it was the opposite of weird. I’ve been staring at you all week. Maybe that helped.”

  “Yeah, me too. I mean, it wasn’t weird at all.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Mason?”

  “Yeah?”

  She sighs. “I’m really scared. I don’t want to tell Lola, but I don’t not want to tell her either, you know?”

  “I know. But once it’s done, you’ll be on here tonight wondering what you were so worried about.”

  “That’s another thing. Everything will change once Lola’s back in the picture. I’m not saying your rental is due, but it’s time to start sharing.”

  I nod. “I was worried you were going to say that.”

  “Just for a while. She’s going to need me.”

  “Chloe, don’t have another thought about it. Use me at your discretion, m’lady."

  “Likewise.” She sniffles. “Now, on to other things. Remember that thing I needed help with? I need to ‘lose’ my wallet today. One more fuck up for the road. Any ideas?”

  We hash out a plan for a real Chloe-sized shenanigan and before I know it, this pops out of her mouth: “I have a hair appointment this morning, well, 11:00, which is morning for me. Would you care to drink lunch with me? I need all the liquid courage I can get for the big show.”

  I can’t stop nodding to the request. I wouldn’t care if I had a meeting scheduled with the Pope, I wouldn’t miss this liquid lunch.

  Hmmm, if I didn’t know any better, I’d’ve thought she was giving me the wean, the boot, and then just like that, I get a day’s reprieve.