“That’s not very nice of you.” Becky stands with her hands on her hips, giving Dad sass.
“Nope, it wasn’t.” Dad shrugs.
Mom and I chuckle to ourselves. It wasn’t nice, but it was funny though.
“What do you feel like doing today, princess?” Elijah sidles in beside me and drapes his arm over my shoulder.
“Well, actually, I want to do something I’ve never done before.” Mom’s face flares up as her eyes widen at me. Oh my God, no not that, Mom. Calm down. “I want to go horseback riding.” Mom breathes out a relieved breath as she looks away from me before anyone can see her surprised expression.
“Horseback riding?” Becky asks. “As in . . . horses?” She scrunches her face.
“No, Becky. Camels,” I sarcastically respond.
“You sure you want to go horseback riding? You’ve never shown any interest in doing that before,” Dad asks.
“I’ve never been on a horse. So how do I know if I like it if I don’t try?”
“Logical. But, what if you . . .” Mom stops herself from saying any more.
“It doesn’t matter.” I stand and go to her, giving her a kiss. “Whatever is meant to happen, will. And I want to go horseback riding.”
“Well then, I best find where we’re going horseback riding.” Dad leaves the room, and a few seconds later I hear him tapping on the keyboard, researching where we can go horseback riding.
“I’m going to get changed,” I announce.
“Can I borrow a pair of jeans?” Becky asks.
“Sure, come on.” I grab hold of her hand and start out of the kitchen. I turn to look at Elijah. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
“Not without you.”
Oh my goodness, my heart flips, then flips again. I blow him a kiss and he catches it.
Becky and I head into my bedroom and I grab a pair of jeans out of my wardrobe and throw them at her. “These okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, as long as they fit.” She takes off her shorts then slides the jeans up her legs. When she’s done, she sits on the bed and waits as I look through my wardrobe. “I told Mom last night I want to have sex with Elijah,” I say with my back turned to her.
“Oh my God, did she freak out?”
“Surprisingly no. She said she understood. I told her I don’t want to die a virgin.” I turn to see the smile on Becky’s face quickly fade. “Hey, does it hurt the first time?”
“It can. Just be as relaxed as possible, and don’t freak out over it. It’s kinda uncomfortable at first when he, you know, pushes in. But then it feels nice. It’s different. It’s kinda like really nice. But don’t worry about the sounds.”
“Eww, what sounds?”
“Well it gets wet down there.”
Oh God. Seriously? “Eww.”
“And he kinda moves in and out.” Cringing! “And his balls slap against your . . . you know.” She looks around the room and leans in to whisper, “Vagina.”
I rub my hand against my brow and want to tell her to stop. But, stupid me asked the question. “I get the idea.”
“And before you ask, yes it’ll fit.”
“Of course it’ll fit, Becky. I know the basics of the human anatomy. I might be a virgin, but I’m not totally clueless. God, I just asked you if it hurt, nothing else.”
A snide sneer pulls up at the corner of Becky’s lips. “And then there’s the moaning.”
“I swear to God, you have to stop now.”
“Like there’s heaps of moaning.” I cover my ears, laughing but singing ‘lalala.’ Becky’s on the bed, laughing so hard she’s clutching at her stomach.
Moving my hands slightly away from my ears, I listen if she’s still talking. Thankfully, she’s laughing too much to be able to talk. “You know what, now I need brain bleach to undo everything you’ve said. I only asked you if it hurt and you’ve gone on about moisture and slapping noises.” Becky’s laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes. “Thanks,” I mumble.
“Just get dressed, will ya?”
I throw my jeans at her, smacking her in the face.
Quickly I change and we head out to the family room. Becky’s still giggling at making me cringe. “We’re ready,” she says as she pushes into my shoulder.
“What are you two laughing at?” Elijah asks.
“Nothing!” I almost yell at him. Clearing my throat, I give Becky a look as if to say ‘shut up’ then say in a calmer voice, “Nothing. But we’re ready.”
Elijah’s gaze goes between me and Becky. He narrows his eyes at me and smirks. “You ready, Mrs. B?” he asks Mom.
“Let me grab my bag.”
We all head out to the car where Dad puts the address of our destination into the GPS.
“This whole horse-riding thing is not for me,” Becky whines as our guide takes us through a small, semi-cleared field. “It’s hurting my inner thighs.”
It’s a lot harder than I thought. Keeping my balance is difficult, and the uncomfortable hardness between my legs is quite irritating as the horse trots along.
“It’s not that bad, Crest,” Elijah shouts over his shoulder toward Becky.
Becky comes closer to me and says in a low voice, “Wait ’til he gets off the horse and all his bits are squished up. Then he won’t be saying it’s not that bad.”
I chuckle at her. “Give the poor guy a break.”
“Girls, are we doing this or what?” Mom calls from in front of us. Mom’s a natural on the back of the horse. She’s loving it. She’s picked up her speed to a gallop. Her hair is back in a low ponytail, the strands flowing behind her as she rides.
“Let’s go,” I say to Becky trying to keep pace so I’m not left behind.
Elijah and Mom are ahead, while Dad opted to sit this one out.
“I love your family,” Becky says out of the blue.
“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”
“How have they been since you got your news?”
I shrug as I look over to Mom riding carefree on her horse. “I can see the dark circles under their eyes. When I wake and go to the bathroom in the night, I can hear them crying.” I offer Becky a smile, but it’s a façade. All I’m doing is trying to hold back my own tears. “They’re amazing parents, Becky. There are a few moments in the day where their cracks begin to show, but then they pull themselves together for me. I’m sure at night it’s their time to cry and grieve for what could’ve been.”
The horses slow to almost a complete stop. I turn to look at Becky who’s got tears glistening in her eyes. “I know how they feel,” her cracking voice belies her smiling face.
“You can’t cry for me.”
“I can’t not cry, Alley-cat.”
“You have to forget the illness. Remember the person I am. Cancer doesn’t define me. It’s part of me, but I’m not ruled by it.”
“You may not be ruled by it, but ultimately, it’s going to take you from me . . . from all of us.”
“When the time comes, I’ll make sure to say goodbye.”
“I just can’t, Alice. I can’t bear the thought of having to say something so final to you. It’s always been us. Always. Me and you. Truthfully, I’m going to be totally selfish here and say I don’t know how I’m supposed to go a day without you. We’re a team, you and I. When something good happens, I call you. When something bad happens, you’re the first person I go to. I know I’m being selfish, Alley-cat, but I don’t want you to say goodbye when the time comes. I want you to say hello, and to stay here with me.”
My God, my damned heart splits. “I don’t want to die either, Becky. I didn’t choose this, but I want to make the most of the life I have left. This is my final goodbye, my time to make sure you, my parents, and Elijah have these good memories, not the ones I know will come too soon. I want to close my eyes and die knowing the people I love the most will remember me in life, not in death.”
“You’re the strongest person I know, Alice Brackman. The. Strongest. You have the c
ourage of a lion, the strength of armor and the heart of an angel.”
Tears escape my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away. Mom looks behind her, and sees me crying. She looks to Becky and sees she’s got tears too; she offers us a comforting smile and turns to face forward again.
“Your mom is going to kick my butt for making you cry.”
“I think she’s going to kick mine for making you cry!”
We fall silent for a few seconds, letting the weight of the situation pass us by. “You okay?” she asks, sniffling.
“I love you, Becky.”
She smiles at me and lowers her head. “I know.”
With every day that passes, my body seems to know it’s death is near. My mind is crisp and clear, but unfortunately the memo doesn’t always reach my nerves.
It’s been seventeen days since I was given my diagnosis, and today’s not shaping up to be a good day. All I’ve done is open my eyes and as I lie in bed, I can feel both of my feet are numb. The gaps between bouts of pins and needles are getting shorter and shorter. I try to hide it most days, but because the numbness is persistent, there have been a few times when I couldn’t stand for very long.
“Fuck,” I mumble to myself, angry that my body is defying my will to live. “I have things to do today. You will not break down until I’m ready to go.” I give myself a pep talk. I try to wiggle my toes, but they’re not cooperating with me. I hear Mom come down the hallway, it’s almost like she has a built-in radar for when I open my eyes. So I quickly close them and pretend I’m sleeping. She’s going to worry if I tell her I can’t feel my feet, so instead of telling her, I’m going to pretend until I can feel them again.
The door creaks open, I can hear her breathing, I can smell the flowery soap she uses. I can feel her eyes bore into me as I pretend to sleep. She waits until I stir before she closes the door and leaves again. I have a feeling she’s checking to see if I’m still breathing.
Tears fall down the sides of my face, and I can’t help but feel sorry for myself. I only got a taste of life, a snippet of what might be possible before being given the news that more is not going to be possible for me.
As my heart rate increases, my breathing stutters loudly too. But I have to be courageous and keep going, because if I don’t, even my memories will be wasted.
“Damn it,” I mumble as I keep moving my feet, trying to get that lumpy feeling out of them.
It takes a solid ten minutes before I’m finally able to feel the tingling leave them. Slowly I get up out of bed and shiver with cold.
I grab my cardigan and put it on. Then find some sweats and slide them over my pajama bottoms. Heading out to the family room, I collapse on the sofa when I get out there. Dad comes out from the kitchen and rushes over to me. “Nicki!” he yells for Mom.
Mom is in the room in less time than my heart took to beat once. She looks at me and rushes straight over. Her hand goes up to my forehead to feel for a temperature. “She’s not hot.”
“I’m cold.” I bring my legs up and huddle into them.
“I’ll get you a blanket.” Dad’s gone in a matter of seconds.
“I’m going to call Doctor Wesley.” Mom’s left and headed to the kitchen to get the phone.
Dad returns quickly and wraps me in a blanket. Moments later Mom comes into the family room holding some Tylenol out to me. “Doctor Wesley said to keep an eye on you and if you get worse to take you back to him, but he said I can give this for the pain.”
“I’m not in pain, I’m just cold and tired.”
Mom tenderly runs her hand over my cheeks. “You might not tell me you’re in pain, but I bet it’s because you don’t want to worry us.” Busted. “Take the Tylenol, sweetheart. For me.”
“Can I have something to drink? A smoothie please, but not with kale.” I’m going to force myself to drink all of it. If my lack of appetite is making me feel so flat and lackluster, then I’m going to get that drink down.
“I’ll make you one with berries and some yogurt, okay?” Mom perks up slightly.
“Okay.” I love seeing Mom happy although I know it’s forced.
As I stay huddled beneath the blanket, the front door opens and Elijah walks in. The moment he sees me, he rushes over to me. “Oh shit, what’s happening?” his voice is strained and filled with panic.
“I’m okay.” I hold my hand out to him and pull him down toward the sofa so he can sit beside me. “I’m just really tired and meh.” I slump my shoulders. “I’m okay,” I say again and try to give him a smile to give weight to what I’ve said.
He stares intently at me, watching me as a vulture would its prey, waiting for something to happen. Anything.
A few moments pass, and his earnest stare is starting to irritate me. “You’re annoying me now, Elijah.”
I see a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
“Stop staring at me. I told you, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
“Hmm,” he huffs. Mom brings out a smoothie for me, but as I reach for it Elijah lightly smacks my hand away and takes it for me. “I’ll hold it. When you want some, then you can have it.”
“Okay.” God, I’m not hungry at all, but I have to push myself. “I’ll have some now.” I sip it and enjoy the taste of this one. “It’s nice, Mom.”
“I’ve got something planned for us today,” Elijah says with an eager spark in his eyes.
“I’m really tired, I don’t think I can go out.”
“Actually, that works perfectly.”
I hear Mom snigger, and when I look over at her, she and Dad are both glowing. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“You’ll have to wait,” Dad says and walks out of the family room toward their bedroom, whistling.
“I’m really not feeling well enough to go out,” I protest.
“Okay, princess. Why don’t you go have a bath, and then maybe a rest,” Elijah says. The moment he suggests it, I’m already eager to relax in the warm water.
“I’ll go draw it for you,” Mom offers and is halfway down the hall before I can open my mouth to protest.
“Are you going to tell me what this thing is you have planned?” I drink the smoothie slowly, trying not to drink so fast it’ll make me vomit.
“Nope,” he says and pops the ‘P.’ I roll my eyes, but manage a genuine smile. “I love your smile.” Elijah leans over and touches his nose with mine. I can’t help but let out a breath of appreciation. “And I love the way you look at me.” He kisses my cheek. My stomach jumps. “I just love you the way you are.”
He loves me. “You love me?” I ask.
“I’ve loved you ever since I can remember.”
I run my hand down his cheek, cupping his chin. Letting my thumb scratch over his stubble, I lean in and brush my lips against his. Our kiss is soft, beautiful . . . perfect. “Elijah,” I whisper against his soft and supple lips, “I love you so much.”
His fingers creep up to the back of my neck and he softly laces his hand through my hair, pulling me closer to him. “So much. Always.”
I pull back, resting my forehead against his. His rapid breathing tells me how much he’s enjoying my touch. My own heart, fluttering like crazy, proves to me how much I love his touch. “I want you to make love to me,” I say dropping that huge bombshell on him. “I want you to be my first; and I want you to be my last.”
He doesn’t falter. He doesn’t pull back or question me. He nods his head and kisses the tip of my nose.
Cough.
We’re interrupted by Becky standing at the entrance of the family room. “Oh, don’t let me disturb you. Just pretend I’m not here. Maybe I’ll make some popcorn, turn on the TV . . . carry on.”
Elijah and I both chuckle.
“Your bath is ready,” Mom calls.
“I have to have a bath.”
“Yes, you do. And a rest.”
I squint again at Elijah, then turn to look at Becky. “I suppose neither of you are going to tell me what’s go
ing on?”
Both shake their heads. But I give Becky the evil eye because if anyone’s going to crack, it’s going to be her. “Don’t look at me, I have no idea.” She throws her arms up in surrender.
“Yeah, right.” I go to stand, and my right foot has fallen asleep again. I lose my balance and start falling forward, but Elijah jumps up and grabs me around the waist before I make contact with the floor. My face flushes with the heat of embarrassment. “Sorry,” I mumble.
He holds me tightly against his body and starts walking me toward the bathroom. “Never apologize.”
“Jesus, are you okay, Alley-cat?”
I turn to give Becky a smile. “My foot is being difficult today. That’s all.” She nods her head, her eyes dragging down my body to land on my feet. “No use giving them the stink eye. They’re not cooperating with me,” I say about my dumb feet.
“Stupid feet,” she mumbles.
Elijah helps me into the bathroom and when Mom sees his arms around me, guiding me, she jumps to take over. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says.
Once the door closes, Mom’s eyes search mine for any visible problem. “It’s my foot; it’s gone all tingly. Nothing else.”
She huffs out a pained breath and nods her head. “I’ll stay and help you get into the bath.”
There’s no sense in modesty. She’s my Mom. “Thank you.” When all my clothes are off, I slide into the warm bath with Mom’s help. Suddenly there’s a loud bang from the back yard and I flinch in the bath. “Whoa,” I say as I clutch at my chest, my heart rate spiking. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Mom asks through the sly smile on her face.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
Mom nonchalantly shrugs. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Call me when you’re done and I’ll come help you out of the bath.”
My stupid foot is still asleep, and I wiggle it around, sloshing water everywhere. I look at the water as it spills over the side and drips to the floor. “Sorry.”
“Pfft.” She flips her hand at me dismissively. “It’s only water. But don’t try getting up on your own. You may slip and hurt yourself.” Mom points a finger at me, before leaving me in the bath. “Do you want me to put some music on for you before I leave?”
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