by Laura Ward
I looked at my screen. Asher. Not the name I longed to see, but one that made me smile nonetheless.
Asher: What R U up 2 tonight?
Me: Studying! What else? You?
Asher: Headed out with Pickles 2 The Shell. Want 2 join? C’mon, U never come out!
The Shell was the local hangout for sororities and fraternities. Pickles was the nickname of Asher’s fraternity brother, Doug. Pickles was a jackass and oddly enough, dating Taren. I have no idea how someone as nice as her got tangled up with someone as douchey as Pickles. Not only did I not want to hang out with him on regular nights, but it was a foregone conclusion he’d be extra annoying tonight since his girlfriend was attending the Xi U party without him.
Me: Sorry, have a huge test to study for. Have fun!
Asher: Ok, pretty girl. G’night.
That was the extent of my relationship with Asher. Easy. We had been hanging out together for a year. We kept things light. We’d made out, but Asher had never pressured me for sex. I brought him to our sorority formals, and he took me to his fraternity date parties. We would meet up at events and sometimes study together at the library. Asher was my friend… who I kissed… but that was it. Strangely enough it worked for both of us.
My phone rang, and without looking, I knew it was my mom calling for our weekly check-in. “Hi, Mom.” I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes. My head began to pound as it always did during our phone calls. The desire to please her, the need to live up to my parents’ expectations, the worries over my dad’s illness—they were constant pressures that were even more intense with every question I expected her to ask.
“Hello, Alexis. How are you?” Mom’s voice sounded flat and exhausted but still formal.
I touched the rainbow on my bracelet, capturing it between my fingers. “I’m fine. Thanks for the care package. You didn’t have to do that. I just came home last weekend.” I picked up the jar of skittles and grinned. No matter how busy my mom got with my dad, she always sent a care package for me every month. Sometimes she’d even send an extra small, silly one. I wished she wouldn’t worry about me, but it was sweet that she did.
“You’re welcome. Your father and I wanted you to know that we love you.” Mom sighed, and I heard papers being shuffled. I pictured her sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by insurance bills and medical reports. The guilt inside me grew. I should be there, helping her. My head pounded harder, and for a moment I wished I was handcuffed to a fraternity boy, guzzling shots of rum, clueless as to what was happening at home.
“How’s Dad feeling today?”
“Not great, honey. We met with his doctors today and he’s not…” She sniffled.
I inhaled sharply, and my breath was trapped in my chest as I waited for her to finish. Mom never liked to talk about Dad’s health over the phone. She was always adamant I stay focused on school.
“He’s not responding to the treatments anymore,” she finally said. “The doctors suggest we focus more on palliative care going forward.”
I sat straight up in bed. “Meaning?” The word came out weak and fragile. I knew what palliative care meant. I just couldn’t force it to make sense with what she was saying.
Mom sighed. “He’ll still get chemo, radiation, and blood transfusions, but they will be used to help manage his pain and let him enjoy the time we have left.”
I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “The time we have left?” My voice cracked, and I struggled to regain my composure. “They’re just giving up?”
“His cancer is too advanced, Alexis. I know you don’t want to accept this, I don’t either, but Dad’s not going to get better. There is no cure for him.” Her voice was off, and I could tell she was holding back tears. “We just have to… make the best of the time we have left.”
My vision went dark, and I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest.
“How long?” I managed to say.
She was quiet, but I could almost hear her struggling to keep herself in one piece.
“No one knows for sure. At the very least six months but likely no more than a year.” Mom finally broke down, her composure crumbling into sobs she tried to keep quiet.
No more than a year? He’d never get to see me graduate college… never get to walk me down the aisle at my wedding… never hold my newborn child. A year and so many nevers. It wasn’t fair.
My own tears ran rampant down my face as I focused on taking even breaths. “I want to come home. I should be with you both right now,” I cried. “Come get me. I want to be home.”
Mom cleared her throat, forcing the sorrow out of her voice. “Absolutely not. Focus on your classes. Be a regular college student. That’s what your father wants. You know that.” She paused. “I’ll pick you up next weekend. Okay?”
“No. It’s not okay. I want to see him. I want to see you. I want to help…” I felt as heartbroken and alone as when I got the news about Sam.
She cursed under her breath, which was so unlike my mom. “Your father was right. He didn’t want me to tell you. He didn’t want you to know yet. He doesn’t want you focusing on him,” she muttered. “But I thought you deserved to know all the information, Alexis.” Her voice got stronger, more demanding. “Don’t fall apart now. I need you with me. Focus on your future so your father can focus on staying healthy. If you come home now, the guilt will wreck him. He’ll worry about you.”
I didn’t want to make things worse for my dad. Was it fair to go home to ease my pain if it made things harder for him? At least at school, as bad as it felt to admit, I could breathe. I could throw myself into my studies and forget. I could pretend that there was hope things could get better.
“Okay?” Mom repeated louder, and I realized she’d asked it several times.
I shook my head. Focus, Alexis. “Okay. Next weekend.”
“We have to be strong for him, for each other.” It was almost a question.
Sometimes I forgot she wasn’t as put together as she always appeared. That deep down she was as messy and sad as I was. And I realized she’d called to tell me about my dad because she needed me to share the pain, to help her bear it.
“I know, Mom. I love you. And miss you. Kiss Dad for me?”
“Of course.” Mom’s voice broke. “I love you too, Alexis. I’ll see you next weekend.”
She hung up, and I flung my phone to the side, my gaze falling to the bracelet I never took off and the curve of colors that represented so much comfort and hope.
What am I going to do, Sam? I don’t want to lose Daddy. I’ll never be ready. I already have too many nevers with you.
***
The Good Buddies program was exactly what I needed to get my mind off my dad. Each year the Tri-Gams supported a charity, and this year we’d chosen Good Buddies. We were each going to be paired with a person who had a developmental, intellectual, or physical disability. We’d pledged to spend time with our buddy and create friendships. I was really looking forward to meeting a new friend.
Taren, Julie, and I entered the conference room and found our philanthropy chair, Kate, to get our assignments.
“Ah, Taren. Great,” she said, scanning her list and tapping a name with her pencil. “Your buddy is waiting for you right now. He’s seated at the last table on the left.” She pointed toward the other end of the room. “Go over and introduce yourself.”
Taren waved good-bye and walked down the aisle toward a tall man who sat alone at a table.
“Julie, hang on. I don’t see your assigned buddy here.” Kate looked through the sheets of paper hooked to her clipboard.
“Fantastic,” Julie huffed and flopped down into a chair.
“Alexis, you’re matched with Stacy McGee.” Kate pointed to a couch on the opposite side of the room where a woman with short brown hair sat, staring right at me. Kate leaned close to my ear. “She has Down syndrome, lives at home with her parents, and works here on campus in one of the dining halls. I think you’ll like her.”
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br /> “Got it.” I nodded and walked toward Stacy.
I was excited to be working with the Good Buddies program at College Park. Spending my time bringing companionship to someone with special needs was another great way to distract me from my own problems. I liked the idea that I could do something good for someone else.
As I got closer, I noticed Stacy’s attire. Her shoes were purple with red shoelaces, and her socks were yellow. She had on green pants and an orange shirt. Her glasses were a bright blue, and she wore dark pink lipstick.
Stacy wore every color possible.
Now you’re sending rainbows in human form, Sam? Like I could ever forget you.
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I hoped Stacy’s personality was as colorful as her style. “Hi, Stacy.” I offered her my hand. “My name is Alexis. It’s nice to meet you.”
Stacy stood up and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I stiffened at first but then relaxed and hugged her back. Why the hell not? It wasn’t every day I got a hug from a living rainbow.
“You too.” Stacy released me from her hug and sat back down on the couch. “So… what is wrong with you?”
Umm? I looked down at my blue jeans and brown booties and then higher at my brown sweater. Okay, I was dressed a bit boring, but I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me. I sat down next to Stacy, angling my body so I faced her. “What do you mean?”
Stacy frowned and pointed to my face. “You are sad.”
My face flushed. How the hell? “Oh, no. I’m fine. Happy to be here. I’m excited to meet you.”
Stacy crossed her arms over her chest. “Cut the crap. What’s up, Lex?” There was a slight slur to her words, but I could still understand her just fine.
“How did you know I go by Lex?” I pointed to my nametag. “It says Alexis here.”
“I guessed.” Stacy pushed her blue frames up higher on her nose. “Now tell me the truth. I’m here to help.”
The hell? I thought I was here for her. Had someone told her otherwise? I shook my head and sat up straighter. “I… I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know if you’d understand.”
Stacy rolled her eyes. “Really? Try me.”
Did she roll her eyes at me? I wiped my hands on my jeans. I was starting to sweat. I wasn’t used to anyone but my mom digging around in my problems. “No, I mean, my life is complicated and heavy.”
Stacy nodded. “Heavy? I know about heavy stuff.”
Bingo. I could help here. I needed to get her talking. “You’ve got heavy problems too?”
Stacy nodded.
“Come on,” I said, smiling. “Lay it on me.” I was good at listening.
Stacy sat back on the couch with a sigh. “Well, I’m in love with Terence. You see him? Right over there.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder.
I looked over to see Terence, a tall, thin man with dark skin. He was snuggled up with a portly blond woman. They were in a lip-locked embrace. Uh oh.
Stacy groaned. “He loves Jane. She is a slut.”
I giggled and then covered my mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny. But maybe you shouldn’t—”
She cut me off abruptly. “So, I love him. He loves her. And my dad says I can’t date anyone anyway.” She rolled her eyes again. “Then there’s my sister. She is getting married and told me to stop eating so much so I can fit in my dress.” She looked at me, eyebrows raised in challenge.
“Oh, wow.” I relaxed into the couch. I liked Stacy McGee. “Okay, you do know heavy.”
Stacy smiled. “Yup. So what is your heavy?”
I paused. I had this strange feeling that I could tell Stacy anything and she wouldn’t judge me. There would be no false pity. There would be no canned response, only honesty. She wanted to know and, well, I needed to talk. I’d needed to talk for a long time.
I took a deep breath.
And then I gave her my heavy.
“Well, I met this amazing boy, and I started dating him. Then I found out that it was his brother who killed my sister in a car crash.” I stumbled over the last few words but took a deep breath and continued. “I was so upset that he never told me who he was that I broke up with him. I hurt him, and then he left to join the Army. I haven’t heard from him in over a year, and I’m scared to death that something might have happened to him.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, steeling myself for my next admission. “My dad has cancer, and he’s not going to get better. My parents don’t want me to be involved with my ex, and I’m worried if I was, I would upset my dad. So I’m not. Involved with him that is. But I still care about and worry about him—all the time. My roommate convinced me to join a sorority last year, but I spend most of my time studying instead of going to parties, so I know everyone thinks I’m weird and a total loser. But at least now I have sisters, sort of, and that part feels good. Our service project is to volunteer with Good Buddies, so now here I am yammering your ear off… and…” I dragged in a breath and pressed my hands to my hot cheeks.
Holy hell. I just word vomited all over this girl. “I’m so sorry I totally dumped all that on you.”
Her wide eyes became even wider as she stared at me. “Whoa. That is heavy shit.” She stood up and grabbed her fuchsia purse. “Want to grab a Coke and some cheese fries?”
Cheese fries? I said all that, and she wanted a snack? I stood up but placed my hand on her forearm. “I thought you were on a diet?”
She grinned. “My bitchy sister said I am on a diet. Not me. I need to eat after hearing all that. I always say cheese fries make everything better.”
I laughed. I felt freer than I had in months. My confession had helped, but so had being around Stacy. “Truer words were never spoken. Cheese fries are the best.” I grabbed my purse and motioned toward the door. “Okay then. Let’s ruin our diets.”
We headed off to the Union food court, and I decided that Stacy McGee was, hands down, the coolest girl I had ever met.
Thanks, Sam.
Chapter Twenty-Two
LIAM
I pushed open the door to Inkspiration and waved to Janie, the girl who worked the front desk. Her bright pink hair was rolled into pinup curls, and the parts of her body that weren’t hidden by her retro rockabilly dress were covered in colorful tattoos and flashy piercings.
“Hey, Liam.” She gave me her professionally polite smile, but it exploded into full-blown exuberance when Troy stepped through the door behind me. “Hey, handsome,” she greeted him. “You finally going to get some ink?”
“Nah. I’m just here to hold this pussy’s hand.” He jerked his head in my direction.
I let the comment slide. We both knew he came along to flirt with Janie, not for my sake. I don’t know why he didn’t just ask the girl out. She clearly wanted him to.
Janie turned to face me. “Chuck is ready for you, so you can head on back whenever you’re ready. This is your last session, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s turning out even better than the sketch.” I reached behind my neck and grabbed a handful of my shirt to yank it over my head. I tossed it to Troy and then turned so Janie could see how the tattoo looked now that it had healed from the last session.
She stepped forward for a better look and made a tsking sound, shaking her head. “It’s not often we get some fine eye candy like you in here, O’Connell. I’ll be sad to see that flesh go. You gotta send me more of your Special Forces buddies.” She gave me a friendly slap along my bare ribs and then raised her eyes back to Troy. “Sure I can’t talk you into something while you’re here?”
“I’m sure there’s a lot you can talk him into, Janie. Don’t take no for an answer.” I chuckled and punched Troy on the shoulder before heading toward the back of the shop. I didn’t turn to see if Troy was embarrassed, the silence I left in my wake was enough of an answer.
Troy and I were as close as brothers. In many ways, I found with him what I’d always wanted to have with Declan. We not only had each other’s backs, but we list
ened to one another. He was the only person I’d ever talked to about home. About Lex. His belief in me and my ability to change was the only thing that kept me moving forward when the ache for home—for her—was too much to handle.
I crossed the shiny black floor until I reached the last station where Chuck was setting up. He spared a glance at me as I sat down in the chair and assumed the position I knew all too well. I leaned forward until my chest was against the support and my back was exposed to him.
“You ready?” he asked.
I couldn’t see the artwork on my back unless I looked in the mirror, but I knew exactly what it looked like, and I was more than ready to have it finished. I wanted it to be complete, to feel the full meaning of it on my skin and in my heart.
“Been ready for this since the first day,” I told him.
He pulled on his gloves and fidgeted with pots of ink while my mind wandered back to that day five months ago.
I’d walked into Inkspiration last spring, and when I told Janie what I was looking for, she merely smiled and introduced me to Chuck. He did a drawing for me, and a week later I was in his chair getting the first lines marked across my back.
That day was the one-year anniversary of Sam and Declan’s deaths. Even though I wasn’t putting their names or memories on my skin, it only seemed right that I make a physical declaration of my transformation on that day. If it hadn’t been for them, I wouldn’t have met Lex. I wouldn’t have lost her. And I wouldn’t have been inspired to do more with my life and make something of myself.
I remembered sitting in the chair for the first time, welcoming the pain when the needles initially touched my skin. I knew that Lex was probably sitting on the bench at Sam’s grave, missing her sister and in a world of pain. I wished I could have been with her, but since that wasn’t possible, I had hoped that at least she was able to find one of her rainbows to help her think about good memories of Sam—and maybe me too.
True to my promise, I hadn’t tried to contact Lex since the morning I left her dorm room. Not directly anyway. Until I could prove I was the man she deserved, there was no point in making her life more difficult. That didn’t mean I’d forgotten her though. Mom was my eyes and ears, keeping me up-to-date on Mr. Sinclair’s health and condition. Even if I wasn’t a part of Lex’s life, I wanted to know what was going on in her life and that she was okay. That she was surviving.