by E. K. Blair
“Dalton,” I clarified. “He might be dying.”
“What do you mean?” Kass said carefully. Her hands clenched the steering wheel as she glanced intermittently at me.
I snorted. “I don’t know. He might have a genetic disease that is terminal, but it won’t show up for years. Decades, even. But it will, eventually, kill him.”
“Oh, Wrenn. Shit, that’s bad. There is no way to find out whether he has it?” she asked softly.
I shrugged. What did I know? Nothing.
She reached over to me, her hand closing over mine. “I’m so sorry, Wrenn.”
“He didn’t even tell me himself, Kass. I overhead Layna on the phone to his mom. How could he not tell me something like that?”
I shook my head, still so angry. I deserved to know if the guy I was falling in love with was going to die. I deserved to fucking know, dammit. I felt cheated. Betrayed. Would knowing that have changed the way I’d felt about him? It didn’t change who he was, but it might have affected my decision to chase him.
“Maybe he didn’t know how to broach it. I can’t imagine it would be an easy conversation to start,” she reasoned.
I glanced at her.
Maybe she was right. I gazed out the window again, closing my eyes. Maybe he was trying to protect me. I could’ve gone the next twenty years not knowing that I might lose him. Would that have been better than this?
I didn’t know. God, I was so confused.
***
“Wrenn.”
I opened my eyes and glanced around. Cinter Beach. Where I had spent the majority of my childhood vacations. Smooth, white sand that stretched for miles, crystal clear water, cute little ice cream stores that stayed open late into the night. Not so much in the dead of winter, though.
I had so many memories. Remembering made me sad. It made me wish Mom was there so I could talk to her. What advice would she give me? Forgetting for a moment that Dalton was my teacher, Mom would’ve told me to go with my heart. True, unconditional love was such a rare thing to find that a short time was better than not experiencing it at all.
“Up on the hill. The one with the white fence,” I mumbled, realizing that Kass was waiting for directions. As she drove along the boulevard, memories of my childhood came rushing back: Dad, teaching me how to body board; eating ice cream on the beach with Mom and Layna; fighting with Jordan over which room was mine. I wiped a stray tear from my eye.
Kass pulled into the driveway. I opened the door and stepped out. We walked up the steps together to the front door. I hadn’t been there since the summer before the accident. As I walked to the door, a sense of peace overwhelmed me, despite the crazy memories flooding back. I felt close to my family here, close like I hadn’t felt in weeks—months, even.
Inside, we walked through to the kitchen. Everything looked just as it had two years ago, but for a thin layer of dust covering the sofa and the small glass coffee table lying in front of it. I walked out the back, over to the fuse box, and clicked on the power and water. Inside, the kitchen lit up and the fridge came to life.
“This place is nice,” muttered Kass, turning full circle, her expression one of awe. “You’ve been hiding this little gem from me,” she accused.
“I’d forgotten about it,” I admitted, sinking into an oversized leather armchair.
Kass joined me, sinking into its twin. Maybe ‘forgotten’ was the wrong word. I’d pushed this place out of my mind so I didn’t have to deal with the memories.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kass asked gently.
“I don’t know what there is to say.” Would talking change anything? Nope. “Do you know anything about Huntington’s disease?” I half joked.
She shook her head. “And please tell me you haven’t Googled it,” she added.
I winced.
“Wrenn! God, stay off the freaking computer. Talk to Dalton. You have questions, ask him. God,” she said again, shaking her head. “Didn’t you learn that time you thought you had cancer because Dr. Google analyzed your symptoms?”
Obviously not.
I checked my phone. Twenty missed calls. I held it up so Kass could see. She groaned and shook her head. I knew what she was thinking: give the poor guy a break. Only, I wasn’t ready to. I didn’t trust myself to get through a sentence without bursting into tears. I needed time to digest all of this. I needed time to figure out what my next move was.
“I’m going for a walk,” I mumbled, standing up.
“Do you want me to come?” Kass asked.
I shook my head. I needed some space. I needed time alone to figure out my head. I leaned over and hugged her, knowing how lucky I was to have a friend like her.
***
About a five minute walk down the road and off a dirt track was the little swimming spot where we used to go. The white sandy stretch of beach was sheltered by huge oak trees which made it the perfect spot to relax.
I walked over and sat down on the broken tree that served as a seat. I ran my fingers over the engravings carved into the wood, one in particular catching my eye: Best summer ever, 2009.
I had been fourteen that summer. We had come down to the beach house for the entire summer vacation, and I had met a boy. It was that summer I had my first kiss. I smiled as I remembered telling Mom after it had happened. We’d sat up late drinking hot cocoa, talking about things, and somehow the conversation became about him.
I couldn’t even remember the boy’s name. Sam or Steve or something. I never saw or heard from him again, but it was the closeness I felt to Mom that I’d cherish forever.
Kicking off my shoes, I walked over to the edge of the shore and dipped my toes in the freezing water. I watched as the tiny waves lapped at my feet before being soaked up into the sand, then falling back into the sea.
My mind turned to Dalton. I thought about how special he made me feel. Nobody had made me feel that way in such a long time. It sucked this was happening, but it didn’t change the way I felt about him.
It didn’t change the fact that I was in love with him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dalton
I paced the bedroom with my hands on my head, waiting for her to call. Or text. Anything. God, I was such an idiot. Her finding this out was bad enough, but to not hear it from me? That was worse. So much worse.
“Fuck!” I kicked the wall, instantly regretting it as a large hole appeared, about the size of my shoe. I watched as little fragments of plaster fell away to the floor. See, this was why I’d avoided relationships. How could you plan your future when you might not have one?
We found out my dad had Huntington’s when I was four. The fact that he had it meant one of his parents would have also had it. His being adopted at age one meant the genetic risk was not identified until it was too late.
Dad was forty-two when he was diagnosed with the disease, and fifty-three when he died. His diagnosis was the reason they’d decided not to have any more children. His progression had been fast, much faster than usual, but the speed of progression was also a genetic factor. Did it mean I would develop symptoms earlier and faster? Possibly.
Basically, when it boiled down to it, if I did have the mutation, there was a fifty percent chance that I would display symptoms by the age of forty. A simple little test could potentially tell me with one hundred percent accuracy whether I had the disease or not. But was that something I wanted to know?
Until now, not knowing had been better than finding out I had it. Not knowing gave me hope. But now it wasn’t just me; I had to think of Wrenn. If she even still wanted to be with me.
I picked up my phone and dialed Mom, needing her advice. She had been trying to get me to have the test for years, without success. She would want to know why I’d suddenly changed my mind.
“Dalton.” She sounded surprised to hear from me.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to relieve some of the tension from the la
st few days. “How are you?”
“Good. Is something wrong? You sound upset.”
“No, everything is fine. I’ve just been thinking . . . I think I want to get tested.” Mom was silent. I waited a moment to let my words sink in before the barrage of questions started.
“What’s brought this on?” she asked. “I’m glad you’ve decided to find out, but you’ve always been so adamant about not being tested.”
“I know, but things have changed. I need to know, one way or the other. I need to live, Mom. I can’t keep waiting for something that might not happen. No matter how much I try and push it away, it’s always there, eating at me.”
“I’ll call Dr. Martin and arrange it,” Mom said, referencing the doctor who’d cared for Dad while he was alive. Apparently, he was one of the top Huntington’s specialists in the country.
“Okay. Thanks, Mom.” I felt a sense of relief. I was one step closer to knowing my fate. After I ended the call, I tried Wrenn again. I nearly fainted when Kass answered.
“Dalton.” She sounded tired.
“Kassia. Is Wrenn there? Will she speak to me?” I asked, trying to keep the sheer desperation out of my voice.
“Look, we’re at her aunt’s holiday house. 430 The Boulevard, Cinter Beach. If you come down, I’ll disappear for a few hours.”
“God, thank you Kassia. I’m on my way.”
***
I knocked on the door to the beach house, still unsure of my game plan.
An hour in the car, and I still had nothing. Really, what was there to say? I could apologize all day for not telling her, but I knew deep down that wasn’t the real issue.
Kass opened the door. She smiled and let me in. “She’s in the living room, down the end and to the right.” She slipped out the door, shutting it behind her.
I walked down the hallway of the huge house. Everything was so perfect, so new—it was like a display home. And strangely, it was all so familiar. I felt like I had been there before.
Wrenn was curled up on the sofa, facing away from me. I edged closer, my heart racing. The TV was on low. She turned around, her eyes wide, shocked at the sight of me. I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Emotion after emotion swept through her eyes: shock, happiness, sorrow, and then confusion.
“You’re here,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Let me guess. Kass?”
I nodded, and walked around the sofa.
She sat up, allowing me to sit down next to her. I put my hand on her thigh, over her faded jeans. She wore an old blue sweatshirt, and her hair was tangled and unbrushed, tied up in a pony tail. Regardless, she looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” I muttered, taking her hand in mine.
“I did some research.” She turned to look at me. “So this test can tell you if you have it, and when you’ll show symptoms?” She looked so scared, I just wanted to wrap my arms around her and take away the pain.
“It will tell me if I carry the disease. It can suggest how early I will display symptoms, but it’s not accurate regarding the symptoms.” I tried to explain, but there was so much to tell. I’d had all my life to learn about this disease, and there was shit that I myself still didn’t know.
“How old was your dad?” she asked. “When the symptoms began?”
“Forty-two. Though he was symptomatic for a couple of years beforehand but they couldn’t say for sure if that was the Huntington’s or not.”
“Did they know there was a chance when they had you? That he had it?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Dad was adopted. He never knew his real parents.” I took a deep breath. “Look, Wrenn, I understand if this is too much for you. I get it. That’s why I tried to distance myself from you early on. You lost your family. I couldn’t imagine putting you through losing me too.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she took in what I was saying. “I don’t want to not be with you, Dalton, but the idea of losing you? I don’t know if I can handle that,” she said quietly.
I took her hand in mine, entwining our fingers together. “You don’t need to decide now. In fact, I don’t want you to. I want you to think about it for as long as you need to.” I paused, the next sentence sticking in my throat. “I’m having the test,” I added quietly.
“You are?” she said, her eyes widening.
“I am. I want to know. Being with you made me realize I need to know the truth.” I sighed, so angry at the situation. “Wrenn, I need you to be fully informed. If I do have Huntington’s, you deserve to know exactly what it means. Ask me anything.”
“Huh?”
‘You said you Googled. That means you have questions. Ask me anything and I’ll do my best to answer.”
She turned her body toward me, unsure and afraid. She didn’t say anything for a while, she just sat there, staring at the floor.
“What are the symptoms?” she finally asked quietly.
“The most common symptom usually noticed first is muscle twitching. Involuntary movement, that kind of thing. Other symptoms are restlessness, clumsiness, dropping things, and tripping.” I paused, watching her intently. “There can also be mental symptoms such as depression, memory loss, impulsiveness...”
“How does it kill you? I mean, you said your dad died from it,” she asked in a small voice.
“The disease itself doesn’t kill, it’s things like pneumonia, choking on food, and organ failure that cause eventual death.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. “How quickly does it progress? Was your dad able to walk before he died? I mean, was he mobile?”
I shook my head and cleared my throat. Talking about Dad made the seriousness of this begin to sink in. “No. The last few months, he was in a nursing home. He couldn’t walk, talk, or even eat. It progresses slowly, but you can’t underestimate how hard those final few years will be, Wrenn. If I have this...you will watch me slowly slip away. I’ll need help with everything, from eating to bathing...” My voice trailed off as I struggled to contain my emotions. This was as honest as I’d ever been with myself about the disease, and the thought of her seeing me like that...
Fuck, I’d kill myself before putting her through that.
I don’t want to think about this right now. I need her. If she can’t be with me, then I’ll deal with that, but right now I need her.
“Can we forget about this, Wrenn? Just for tonight? I want one night with you where I don’t have to worry about hurting you. I know that’s a lot to ask, but if I have to let you go, I really need this.”
She nodded and squeezed my hand. “Can you take me home tomorrow? I’ll tell Kass she can go.”
I nodded and leaned over to kiss her, my mouth brushing past her soft lips. I pulled away and stared at her, wanting to memorize every little detail of her face. She brought her hand up to my neck and pulled me to her, our lips connecting again, this time in a slow, intense kiss that took my breath away.
“Will you sleep with me?” she asked, her voice anxious. “I just want your arms holding me. I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m in your embrace.”
I nodded and let her lead me upstairs.
We entered a bedroom. A mirror hung on the wall, and a small chest of drawers stood in the corner. We walked over to the large bed under the window. Curving my arms under her thighs and around her back, I lifted her onto the bed, pulling the covers over her. Then I climbed in, wrapping her in my arms. I stroked her arm tenderly. This disease...it had the ability to rob me of the simplest indulgences, like holding the woman I loved close to me. I stroked her arm until she fell asleep, then listened to the sound of her chest rising and falling.
I’d avoided falling in love for this very reason. This fucked up disease had ruined my family. How could I drag someone I loved into that world? At least the test would give me closure. I’d know. One way or the other, I would know for sure, and Wrenn would have all the facts. She deserved to know everythin
g, because this would affect her whole life. Even having kids was an issue...but at least there were tests nowadays and ways to eradicate the disease being passed on. My head rested against hers. I closed my eyes, listening to her breathe.
If these are my final few moments with her, then I want to remember them forever.
***
Rolling over, I wrapped my arm around Wrenn’s waist. Only she wasn’t there. I sat up in shock, the stark morning sunshine almost blinding me. I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
It was after eleven. How had I slept so late? And where was Wrenn?
I climbed out of bed, adjusting my jeans. Walking out into the hall, I glanced each way, looking for a sign of Wrenn. Making my way down to the kitchen, I called out her name. No answer.
Why the fuck did this place look so familiar? I was sure I’d been here before. I walked outside and down the steps into the backyard. A cobblestone path led through the manicured lawn, around the back of a large garage.
“Wrenn?” I called out.
I heard her voice faintly in the distance. Walking towards it, what looked like a cubby house came into view from behind a cluster of bushes. I breathed in the salty air, something you can only experience near the ocean. I loved it out here.
“Where are you?” I called out.
“In here.” Her muffled voice was coming from inside the cubby house. I leaned down and stepped through the doorway. My breath caught in my throat as memories began flooding back.
Wrenn and I.
We had met before. This hideous pink cubby house, that’s why this place felt so familiar. Eleven years ago, in this very place, she had made me realize that I needed to live my life. All these years later, we had found our way back to each other.
“What is it?” she asked, alarmed.
I shook my head, not sure what to say, or how to say it. “I’ve been here before, Wrenn. We’ve met before. That first day in school I knew you. You were so familiar to me, but I just couldn’t place you. I assumed it was just from class, but it wasn’t. You remember telling me that my mom probably knew your mom? Well, they did! We met at a party. You would’ve been about seven, and I was twelve.”