Till Forever

by Elena Matthews

When I arrived, I was greeted by Alana, and I couldn’t help but burst out into tears when I took in her frail body. It was such a stark contrast compared to what she’d looked like six months ago, the last time I had seen her. I sat with her for a little while as she explained everything to me, and I was shocked to the core that she literally had only weeks to live.

  Fuck you, cancer.

  What upset me more though was imagining what Tyler was going through right now. He’s a mama’s boy through and through, and I have no idea what this will do to him, especially after everything we’ve already endured this past year. I asked Alana where he was, and my heart sank when she told me he was in the tree house out back. Tyler’s told me how much he loves that tree house, as it represented everything from his childhood with his brothers—in particular, Christopher. He’s retold so many memories that involve him, Christopher, and Jo inside that tree house, and knowing how this sent him running to the very same tree house hurts my heart.

  I finish climbing the steps and quickly crawl inside, my heart racing with the adrenaline of having to climb to this height, inwardly thanking the God above for getting me up here in one piece. Tyler’s sitting by the far wall, elbows resting on his knees, looking off into space.

  “Hi,” I greet, shifting to sit beside him.

  He looks my way, a little surprised to see me, and then remorse washes over his features. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot to pick you up.” His whisper is barely audible as he rubs his eyes with his fists.

  “It’s okay,” I say gently, reaching for his hand. Our fingers lock together. “So, this is the infamous tree house you’ve told me about?” I ask, wanting to start our conversation as light as possible.

  He simply nods, squeezing my fingers. “Yeah,” is all he replies.

  My heart constricts at his one-worded reply.

  I lean my head on his shoulder, sadness spreading through my heart. “I spoke to your mom. I’m so sorry, baby.” My voice breaks, and I have to blink back the tears.

  The last thing he needs is me breaking down.

  He presses his warm lips to my forehead before leaning his head against mine. “It doesn’t feel real,” he begins, his voice rough. “I can’t get my head around the fact that she’s dying, and it’s going to happen soon.”

  I caress his thumb with my own in our entwined hands as I let him continue, “I knew something was wrong when I saw her today, but she kept brushing it off like she just had a cold. Then, Dad lied to my face earlier when I asked if Mom was okay, and he said it was just a chest infection and that she was fine. I mean, I’m not even angry they lied to me, but I am mad that they’ve both known about this for months yet didn’t tell us. It didn’t need to go down the way it did. God, she coughed up blood, for fuck’s sake, right in front of Junior and Lily-Mai. I mean, how the fuck is a three and seven-year-old supposed to unsee that?” Tyler’s voice trembles as he lets his anger free.

  I wince, hating the visual he’s just painted in my mind.

  “My beautiful, selfless, badass mom is dying. My mom’s dying.” His voice cracks as a sob breaks free.

  I press my lips together to stop my own sob from forming, but I fail when he begins to cry hard, and I weep with him. I crawl into his lap and press his head into my chest, stroking through his soft dark brown hair, as we allow tear after tear to fall. His pain becomes my pain, and I willingly take it on.

  His tears die down after a while, and when he pulls his head back, I brush away the remnants of his tears with my thumbs, looking into his glistening eyes.

  “I’m gonna need you through all of this. I can’t do this without you.”

  I lower my head and press a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting the salt from his tears. “I’m here for you. Every step of the way,” I declare, wanting him to know I’m not going anywhere.

  We’ve made mistakes in the past, but I won’t let another loss tear us apart.

  “There’s no way we can go tomorrow. I can’t leave her, not now,” he says in a distraught tone.

  “I know. I understand. A vacation can wait. We need to be by your mom’s side,” I agree.

  His fingers caress up my back, reaching along the nape of my neck, before he brushes through the strands of my hair. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I was a total dick earlier. I should go and apologize to my mom,” Tyler says sometime later as we lie in one another’s arms, looking at the stars from the skylight.

  Yes, this tree house has a frigging skylight.

  It’s a miracle I’m not freaking out, knowing we’re a good fifteen feet from the ground.

  “Let’s go then,” I say.

  We make our way down from the tree house with Tyler going down the ladder first, so if I fall, he can at least break my plummet back to earth. Usually, in this situation, he would grope my ass on the way down, but when he doesn’t, it just shows how much turmoil he is in, and it kills me.

  Hand in hand, we walk through the garden, up the patio, and back inside through the kitchen. Ashton’s sitting at the breakfast bar, staring down into his coffee, and I’m guessing, with the bottle of bourbon beside it, that it’s probably more bourbon than coffee. He looks up at our entrance, and he smiles softly when his eyes land on me.

  “Mia,” he greets, standing from his seat. He envelops me in his arms.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say against his chest.

  He pulls back and looks down at me. “Thank you,” he responds. But, with the sadness in his eyes, the words definitely leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “Where’s Mom?” Tyler asks Ashton as he slips his hand back through mine.

  “She’s resting in the living room.”

  “You okay?” Tyler questions his big brother.

  Ashton just shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know. I feel as if I’m having an out-of-body experience.”

  Tyler heavily sighs with a gentle nod of his head. “I’m with you there.”

  “You were an asshole before,” Ashton bluntly points out.

  I expect Tyler to scoff at his brother’s comment, but instead, he grimaces with another nod.

  “I know. I’m gonna go apologize now.”

  Ashton claps his back before returning to his bourbon-laden coffee.

  Tyler leads us toward the living room. Once we step inside, we spot Jo and Alana huddled on the sofa with a blanket covering them. Junior, Drew, Ava, and Tyler’s dad, Samuel, are sitting on the floor with a game of Monopoly set in front of them, the fire behind them crackling, a glorious warmth radiating from it. All eyes fall on us, but it’s Alana’s eyes that light up at the sight of her son.

  Junior’s up on his feet as soon as he sees me, and he rushes over to me. “Aunt Mia!”

  He engulfs me in a hug, and I pull him to me, brushing my fingers through his hair.

  “Hey, little guy. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  He pulls away, and I keep him at arm’s length as I give him a once-over.

  “Wow, you must have grown, like, three inches since I last saw you!”

  “Mama says it’s all the greens I eat.”

  I glance over to Jo with a smile. “It sure is. You’ll be as tall as your uncles before we know it.”

  “Do you want to play Monopoly with us?” he asks, pointing to the game in the middle of the living room floor.

  “It seems like you’re in the flow of things, but I’m totally up for a game of Operation later,” I say enthusiastically, spotting it with the pile of board games in the corner of the room.

  “You’re on!”

  He resumes his spot on the floor. I hug and greet everyone, and Samuel, ever such the gentleman, takes my jacket. The room turns quiet when Tyler stands awkwardly, staring at his mom, and Jo must sense Tyler wants some alone time with his mom as she unravels herself from the blanket and stands.

  “Why don’t we take a break? We can see if there are any more sugar cookies left,” Jo suggests.
/>   They all file out of the living room, leaving just Alana, Tyler, and me.

  Tyler smiles sadly at his mom and walks over to her before he kneels in front of her. I follow, taking the seat beside her.

  Tyler takes Alana’s hand into his. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “It’s okay, baby.” She pats their joined hands. “You were just trying to process everything. I understand.”

  “I’m so pissed you didn’t tell me sooner. I could have been there for you,” Tyler implores, emotion heavy in his voice.

  “I know, but you two had your own problems. I didn’t want to weigh you down with more. But I wasn’t alone. I’ve had your dad by my side, and he’s been amazing. He’s kept me sane through all of this.”

  “Yeah, but you could have had a tribe behind you. Your tribe,” he enunciates, his voice cracking, as his eyes water with unshed tears. “We could have helped you fight this. We could have fought this.”

  Tears now run down his face, and I bite my fist to stop my own tears from falling.

  “There was no fighting it, baby. It was too late. It spread quickly, too quickly to try to fight it,” Alana explains, her eyes filling up. “All I can do now is embrace it.”

  Tyler looks defeated as he tries to speak, but all that comes out is choked cries.

  She holds her arms out for him. “Baby boy, come here.”

  He goes willingly, and I watch painstakingly as Tyler cries in his mom’s chest. My heart cracks at witnessing such a heartbreaking moment between the two of them.

  Alana lifts her son’s head from her chest and zones her piercing eyes on his. “Now, you listen to me, and you listen to me closely,” she begins with a stern voice, albeit a little strained because of her condition. “I don’t want your tears; I don’t want your sadness. Yes, I’m dying, but I’m not dead yet, and I’m going to make the most of my last weeks on this earth even if it kills me, which it will.”

  I know her words are meant as a figure of speech, but she laughs at her own words, clutching hold of her chest as she coughs through her laughter.

  “That’s not funny,” Tyler scolds her, clearly not impressed.

  “It kind of is,” she says before roaring with contagious laughter.

  Before we know it, both Tyler and I are laughing with her.

  “How can we be laughing about this?” I ask through gentle chuckles.

  Her cough-filled laughter dies down, and after taking a sip of water from her glass, she speaks, “Because, sweetheart, laughing is a better alternative to crying, and laughter is the only sound I want to hear until the very end.”

  I take hold of her hand and smile. “Well then, laughter is all you will hear.”

  She glances down to her watch. “Oh, you’ll have to head to the airport soon,” she points out.

  Tyler blanches at the mention of the airport. “Are you kidding? There’s no way we’re going on vacation, not now.”

  Alana’s eyes widen with shock. “Don’t think you’re canceling your trip on my account.”

  “Mom, it’s fine. We can just reschedule the trip.”

  “Absolutely not!” she cough-yells, looking between the two of us with disbelief. “You’re going, and that’s the end of it.”

  Tyler lets out an irritated sigh. “You’re so freaking stubborn. You’re terminally ill. There’s no way we can leave, and more importantly, we don’t want to leave you.”

  “You’re not leaving the country for a century, for Christ’s sake. I’m dying, but I’ve still got some time left in me yet.”

  “But—” Tyler attempts to say but is cut off from Alana.

  “But nothing. After everything you’ve both been through, you two deserve a break, and what better place than the Dominican Republic? Go and have an amazing time, and be sure to send me lots of pictures, so I can live vicariously through you. Because, hell, there’s no way I’m going to get to live to see that kind of paradise again in this lifetime.”

  Tyler looks to me and then back to his mom with a deliberative look on his face. “Only if you’re sure. I mean, we’re going to be thousands of miles away. What if—”

  “Don’t think I’m too sick to put you over my knee,” she threatens.

  I bust out laughing.

  “No what-ifs, no more buts. No nothing. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll still be here when you get back. It’s just six days.” The casual way she says this is as if she has all the time in the world when, in reality, she only has weeks to live.

  And that breaks my heart.

  “Okay.” Tyler finally relents before pressing a kiss to Alana’s cheek.

  I know, if it were up to Tyler, there’s no way we’d go, but it’s hard to win an argument with Alana.

  Giving them some time alone, I excuse myself to use the bathroom, and I head on upstairs. Just as I reach the bathroom, the sound of high-pitched cries can be heard from the next bedroom, and it halts me in my steps. Just the very sound has my heart sinking to my stomach, and I force my eyes closed a few seconds as I breathe through the immediate panic.

  After a few deep breaths, the panic seemingly disappears, and my natural motherly instincts click in place. I follow the screaming cries. I tiptoe inside the dimly lit room, my eyes first going to Lily-Mai, who’s fast asleep on a portable bed, before falling onto Francesca in her crib. My breath hitches at how beautiful she is, but it’s difficult to dwell on her beauty, as it’s hard to focus on anything other than her screaming cries.

  Wow, she sure does have a good set of lungs on her.

  I find it hard to believe that Lily-Mai is able to sleep through her sister’s hysterical cries. I’m guessing Lily-Mai built up one hell of a noise tolerance since she was born three months premature and had to spend the first few months of her life in a hospital filled with constant noise.

  “Hi,” I whisper in a hushed tone, picking Francesca up from the crib and holding her to my chest. “What’s the matter?” I coo, rocking her in my arms to help ease her crying.

  Her glistening eyes look up at me, and instantly, her crying dies down on a hiccup as she gazes up at me. Her big and bright wonder-filled green eyes search me, and I fall helplessly in love with her. It’s hard not to, not when all I can see is Tyler’s green eyes looking back at me. I know it’s really Ashton’s eyes Francesca has been graced with, but since Ashton and Tyler are so similar in looks, I can definitely see bits of Tyler in her, too.

  It gives me food for thought. I often wonder what Erika would have looked like now. Would she have looked like Tyler or me? Would she have gotten Tyler’s green eyes or my blue-green eyes with flecks of gold? I know I shouldn’t torment myself with thoughts like this, questions I can never answer, but it’s hard to switch off the curiosity.

  My chest constricts with heavy emotion as I force away thoughts of my daughter and all the what-ifs associated with her and focus on this little girl in front of me.

  My niece.

  I take hold of one of her hands with my index finger and smile down at her. “I’m your aunt Mia. It’s very nice to meet you,”

  I startle when Ava enters with a bottle of milk, and she blinks with a little shock when she finds me in here.

  Shit, I shouldn’t have just walked in here and picked her up, especially since Francesca has no idea who I am.

  A smile quickly slides into place as she steps toward us.

  “I’m sorry. I overheard her crying when I was heading to the bathroom,” I explain quickly on a whisper.

  I try to hand her to Ava, but she just strokes the top of her daughter’s head.

  “No, it’s okay. I can’t believe you got her to stop crying though. When I heard the baby intercom, I was sure I’d be in for a night of crying. She’s not been sleeping too well lately.”

  “I guess I was an element of surprise for her when I came in,” I say lightheartedly.

  “No, I think you have that natural touch with babies. Will you come live with
us? All expenses paid,” she begs with a laugh.

  I try not to dwell on her words, but just her mention of babies makes it hard for me to breathe. I know she’s joking, but the impact is still a struggle.

  I hate how this has control over me. It’s like having a stone weighing down on my chest, and every so often, the stone becomes heavier, the longer I have to try to fight against it. It’s getting easier, and only triggers affect me now, but those triggers are still too often, paralyzing my emotions.

  I need to move on from this. I can’t continue to allow my anxiety the freedom to cripple me, afraid that someone might suggest a word or phrase or includes me in a conversation that involves babies.

  “Lily-Mai was such a breeze when she was a baby. Well, she was once I finally brought her home from the hospital,” Ava continues, unaware of my internal tussle, pointing to her sleeping daughter who hasn’t budged an inch since we both entered. “I would put her to sleep, and she’d be down for eight hours straight. However, with this one, she likes to get her mama up at all hours of the night. I’m so exhausted,” she complains on a laugh. “But I wouldn’t change her for the world.”

  She coos to Francesca, who just beams up at Ava like she’s the love of her life, “No, I wouldn’t, baby girl. No, I wouldn’t.” Ava looks back to me. “Sleep’s pretty overrated anyway. I can catch up on my sleep when I’m dead.” She says this as a joke, but just as she says it, her eyes almost pop out of their sockets, and she slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh God, I’m such a terrible person. I can’t believe I just said that, especially after tonight.”

  I just shake my head. “Nah, you’re not. Honestly, if you had said that in front of Alana, she would have just laughed. She has one heck of a twisted sense of humor,” I say, recalling the way she laughed at the prospect of her dying.

  I don’t know if I’d be that positive if I were dying. Just the thought of dying scares the shit out of me.

  “It’s been a tough night, huh? I still can’t believe she’s dying,” she says with an awe of disbelief.

  “I know. Me either,” I reply, still finding it hard to get my head around it all. “I have no idea how Tyler will cope with it all, especially after everything this year. Honestly, it feels like the universe is against us right now.”