by Stratton, M.
When Ethan had said he wanted to help her, she wasn’t sure if it was going to be a good idea to have him there. She knew the connection between Patty, Ethan and Evan. Death was never easy, and Patty’s would be hard for him, but she was surprised at how well he was doing. She noticed he always seemed to pick things up quickly, and that night was no exception. He was there getting anything anyone needed, lending his quiet support.
He was the first one there with cool water for Sam, so she could bathe Patty’s face if she was hot, and the first to offer a blanket, which had been warmed, if Patty started to shake from the cold. She had to admit, he was helpful, especially since she was so exhausted.
Sadly, Sam had been through so many of these. She knew when it was almost time. Leaning in close, she whispered in Patty’s ear. “It’s time, lovely lady. Let go and spread those wings. It’s time for you to fly.” She kissed her cheek. “Godspeed.”
Ethan came up behind her and placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, gently rubbing it and leaned down to be closer to Patty. “Hey, you think they’ll have skydiving in Heaven?” His chuckle came out sounding off. “Can you . . . can you say hi to Evan for me?” He took a deep breath and squeezed her shoulder harder.
It didn’t take long before Patty took her last breath. Ethan stayed with Sam while she waited for the coroner to come. When they walked out into the cold night air, it seemed natural they both should head up to her house together, hand in hand.
Day 21
Ethan–
Some of us were talking today and we all realized none of us have gotten falling down drunk since right after we were diagnosed, some haven’t even way before that. Sam’s hooking us up with some good stuff, and has even organized designated drivers for those in the wheelchairs. We’re going to tie one on tonight.
Wish me luck.
Evan
“To Patty.” Sam lifted her glass of scotch high and clinked it to Ethan’s.
“To Patty.” He took a long, thoughtful drink. “Did you know I talked to Patty?” Ethan slurred as he waved his glass of scotch toward Sam. “I did. She knew my brother. . . . Yeah . . . he died too . . .”
Sam’s head tilted to the side and she closed one eye to look at him, her vision blurring due to the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. “One-hundred-and- fifteen days, that’s how long she was here, just under average. She would have hated that, being considered anything average.”
“It’s not going to be the same, going to the field, to jump out of a plane.” He looked up. “I’m going to expect to hear her laugh as she gets closer to the ground. Did you know she was always laughing? Every single jump, she was so happy.”
“She was.” Sam couldn’t hold back anymore and the tears started flowing as she paid her respects to Patty. “Sorry . . . I always . . . do this . . .” She hiccupped. “Cry, thirty minutes, no more, no less. Get it out, move on.”
“How can you do that?”
“Practice.” She swayed. “I can’t do more. It breaks me too much.”
His brow furrowed as he tried to sync up his swaying to hers. “Then why?”
“Because . . . they deserve more . . . more than pity . . . more than dying in some clinical setting . . . more than . . . so much more.”
“Doesn’t it hurt all the time?”
“Oh, it kills me. Every. Single. Time. Every. Day.”
“How long can you do this?”
“As long as I’m allowed to.”
“Huh?”
She tried to point to the ceiling. “It’s not in my hands how long. He has a plan. I try to do my best.”
“Come here.” He snaked his arm around her and pulled her close to him. “You’re too far away.”
“It is a big couch.” She nodded.
“Too big.” He nuzzled her ear. “Why won’t you let me taste your lips? You fill my mind. I can’t get you out.”
“Who’s stopping you?”
“Was someone stopping me?” he asked.
“I think you were.”
“Well, why would I do that?” He tried to tilt his head and ended up falling back against the couch. “Here.” Attempting to lean forward to put his drink on the table, he couldn’t reach it, so he settled for setting it down on the floor. “Now yours.” It took a couple of tries before he got a good grip on the glass and set it next to his. “There. Now, where was I?”
“Not kissing me?”
“Wait, what? You don’t want me to kiss you?”
“No, I do, but you weren’t.”
“Oh, I should fix that.”
“You should.”
They stared at each other, Sam didn’t know if her body was responding to him, or if it was the amount of alcohol she’d consumed that made her body feel alive as it was pressed up against his.
He leaned down and his lips softly slid back and forth against hers. She turned a little bit more to get closer and wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the feeling of his hands moving over her back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t going to.” Pulling her closer to him, he leaned back, laying down on the couch with her on top of him.
She moaned when he deepened the kiss, relaxing into him. At that point, she wasn’t sure if she had any bones. When she was with him, she felt like she was home. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
His hand slipped around to her hip and she couldn’t control herself. It was the one tickle spot she couldn’t turn off. Giggling, she wiggled and they both ended up rolling off the couch, landing hard on the floor.
Glancing up at him through her hair, she laughed harder at the pained expression on his face. “Sorry . . . so sorry . . . ticklish . . .”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the side of his head where he’d hit it on the ground. “I kind I’ve found that out.”
She tried to stop laughing but couldn’t. When she saw his lips twitch, she laughed harder. They relaxed, laughing until they both ended up falling asleep, together, where they had tumbled to.
Day 22
Ethan–
Why? Why did I get so drunk? Yeah, I don’t recommend it. You’re older than me, and I sure couldn’t handle it like I used to. Everything hurts. You’ll end up out of commission for a week. For once, listen to me. Don’t do it.
Evan
Ethan groaned and his hands flew to his head right away. He rolled over and curled up in a ball on the hard floor. The last thing he wanted to do was move again, or make a sound. As fast as his sluggish brain would work, he tried to figure out where he was and why his whole body hurt so badly. Slowly, it all came back. He had been working out in the shed and getting angrier with every passing minute. When he went to confront Sam, he’d found out about Patty. The one part of his body that hadn’t been hurting clutched in pain, his heart.
He kind of understood what his brother had been talking about now, about not wanting him around when he died. The end was never pretty. While Patty went relatively quickly, most did not, and some hung on for a long time, needing more and more care.
As more of the evening came back to him, he realized he was at Sam’s house. He moved his hand around trying to find her. The last thing he remembered was kissing her and falling off the couch. He wished he could remember more, but since he was still on the floor fully clothed, he had to assume nothing else happened.
Squinting his eyes open, Ethan knew it was going to hurt when the bright morning light hit them. He wasn’t wrong. Cursing, he tried to work through the pain so he could get a better look around. The only thing he could hear, besides the ringing in his ears, was silence. Either she was sleeping comfortably in her bed or she wasn’t next to him.
He rolled over and moved his knees under him. Ever so slowly, Ethan pulled his weight up, and crawled over to the couch, resting against it. In the past, he never had more than a couple of drinks at a time–he never wanted to lose control, or his edge in any situation. The previous night, he’d thrown all of his rules out the door, and was paying for it.
>
His tongue felt two sizes too big and fused to the roof of his mouth. He whimpered deep in his throat when he saw a huge glass of water with a bottle of aspirin next to it. Moving as quickly as he could, he pitched for the coffee table and grabbed onto the glass as if he’d been in the desert for the past week. He drank deeply, stopping only to pop a few pills into his mouth before draining the rest down.
Sighing, he sank back and sat on the floor for a few minutes and let everything start to work. Glancing around him, he noticed the clock on the wall. “Shit,” he said and swiftly jumped up, before racing out of the house and back to his room. He was late for work. Hurriedly, he showered and dressed, trying to remember what events were scheduled for the day.
“Hey, Country Club, you’re late,” Phil said with a laugh. “Shake a leg, you’ve got a long list of things to do before your tee time.”
“Ha-ha.” Ethan waved him off and searched for Sam. He wanted to make sure she was fine and apologize for being late. Even after his parents died and he was learning how to raise a kid and work, he’d never been late.
Everywhere he checked, he had just missed her. He finally caught up to her in the Legacy Garden. “Sam, how are you feeling? I’m sorry I’m late.”
She turned hard eyes toward him. “I’m fine. Yes, you are late. Some of us still managed to show up on time, even after the events of the night before.”
“Well, maybe you should have woken me.” He narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I did.” She mimicked his stance. “You, on the other hand, told me to leave you alone, so I did. You’re a big boy. You can handle your own responsibilities.” She turned to walk toward the gardening shed.
“Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t drink. I’ve never felt this shitty before and I overslept. So sue me, I’m sure I’m not the first and I won’t be last.”
Halting, she stepped up to him, and poked her finger in his chest. “Yeah, you’re not the first, but you’re here for who knows how long while you figure your life out. Once you’re done, you’re gone. I should have known better than to rely on you for anything.”
He grabbed her finger to stop her from poking at him and didn’t let go. “Listen here, lady, when I make a commitment, I stand by it. Sure I’m only here for a bit, but while I’m here, I give it my all.”
“You didn’t give it your all this morning.”
“There were extenuating circumstances.” He threw up his hands in frustration.
“Funny thing, I had those same other circumstances this morning too, yet I managed to make it here on time.”
“Samantha,” he said quietly. “Cut me some slack, I’ve never seen anyone die before, let alone someone who came here the same date as my brother. It was a difficult night.”
Her shoulders slumped and she looked down. “I know it was. It was hard for me too. They all are. But that doesn’t matter, what does is getting up and being here for the guests who are still living.” When she looked back up at him, her eyes were brimming with tears. “Think about it, Ethan, don’t you think they’d love to feel how bad you are today instead of the pain they live in? That’s what gets me out of bed every morning, no matter how shitty I feel, or how late I was up tending to another guest.”
She turned and disappeared into the shed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. She retuned shortly with something heavy wrapped in a cloth. “Here.” She handed it to him. “This is Patty’s handprint. Please add it to the wall.” Without another word, she turned and left him again.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled back the cloth to expose her small handprint. There were a few other guests who had died between Evan and Patty, but they’d be pretty close to each other on the wall. It made him wonder how many other people had come here as strangers, but ended up with a new friend. Sometimes, even though someone is only in your life for a few days, or weeks, they left a lasting impression on you. He’d always remember Patty and what she did for his brother, and how he was able to be there for her in the end.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he looked up and watched Sam’s figure getting smaller as she walked down the path toward the main house. She always seemed to be walking away from him. He wondered what would happen if she stopped and actually let him catch up to her. He knew no matter what happened in the future, she had already left such an impression on him that he’d never be the same. He shook his head, he was so different now from the man who first came here, so sure she was running a scam to get their money when they died. Ironically, he felt as if he had buried that person, and he was finally becoming the man he was destined to be.
He went into the shed, collected the cement and the tools he would need, then headed into the garden to add her handprint to the wall. Kneeling at the next open spot, he looked down and could see his brother’s handprint along with so many others. So many people were dealing with cancer, so many had lost the battle. He’d heard the stories from some of the guests, who didn’t have anyone, or their families didn’t want to deal with it and they were pushed aside with very little help. There was a fee to stay there, but not everyone could afford it. If they couldn’t, Samantha would still make sure they were welcomed and treated just like everyone else. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like, to be someone, who was alone in this world with no one to take care of them, having this heavy sickness hanging over their heads. Maybe not having enough money for medicine, food or even a place to live. To be able to come to Last Resort and not only have all of those things, but also love and laughter with a little bit of adventure if they wanted some would be a miracle to those guests.
Looking around the garden, he was amazed at how many butterflies flew around. He remembered what Sam had told him on the first day about the butterflies. Slowly, Ethan stood up and looked around. The garden was filled with them. There were hundreds. He contemplated if they were all guests, who had previously died and were up there to welcome Patty as one of them. His hand hesitated at his pocket, he wanted to pull his phone out to take a picture of it, but then he stopped himself. The moment felt bigger than him, bigger than any picture could be.
He turned his back on the butterflies and set about carefully hanging up her print, making sure it was straight. “I hope you know how much you helped me.” He placed his hand on hers for a moment before he stood and collected his tools to put them away. Restlessness thrummed through him. He looked out into the distance and toward the hill to Sam’s tree. No sooner had he headed in the direction and climbed the hill, when his unease calmed. He turned around and looked down over the property, his developer mind making calculations and trying to decide on the best possibilities for the use of the land. There had to be a way to get more out of it. He moved a few feet to the left and wondered if this was even the best piece of property for the resort, maybe something else would be better.
He’d done his research before coming out to the ranch. He knew the value of the land and all of the other investors who had been looking into it. Some of them not using the best methods in order to get her to sell. She was sitting on a gold mine, literally. There were stories of an abandoned mine around these hills, most likely on her property. Which was the main reason why the other developers wanted it, that and to build a new housing development. He had to hand it to them. It would be the best use of both. They’d be able to mine for gold, while also planning a master community. They could end up making at least double, if not triple their money with very little effort. Of course, if the gold was really there, who knew what those numbers really could be.
Maybe he could work that to his advantage. He pulled his phone out and quickly started making notes and doing some research. If this resort was going to become the place Samantha had always dreamed of, she was going to need his help. By that point, he was already in trouble with her, might as well see what happened when he brought up his ideas. Sometimes, you needed to clear the air one way or another.
Day 24
Ethan–
&n
bsp; You know, I’d begun to think of Sam as some kind of Wonder Woman. She is always on the go, helping everyone. But today I looked at her, and she actually looked tired. I wanted to help her, but she wouldn’t let me. I don’t think she ever lets anyone help. I wish someone would take care of her.
Evan
Sam wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, but she was exhausted and felt terrible. All she wanted to do was go home, turn on some music and maybe read for a few minutes, before she finally passed out and slept for, hopefully, ten hours. When she walked into her home, the first thing she was greeted with was the empty scotch bottles from the night before. She couldn’t believe they had drank so much, no wonder they both felt so terrible. All day she’d been thinking about why Patty’s death had affected her more than the others, and the only thing she could think of was the fact that she was connected to Evan, and therefore connected to Ethan.
Taking the bottles to the recycling bin, she continued to straighten up, knowing as soon as she stopped, she’d drop, and she hadn’t had dinner yet. Opening the fridge, she stood, looking blankly at its contents, not knowing what she wanted to eat. She mentally kicked herself for not stopping by the main house kitchen and grabbing some of what the guests were having for dinner before heading to her house.
When there was a knock on her backdoor, she jumped and her heart sank. She couldn’t deal with another death so soon after Patty, her mind not realizing that someone would have called her first, which was quicker than coming up to her house if something was wrong. Seeing the shadow of a man, and knowing it was Ethan didn’t make her relax either.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“I’m pretty tired, Ethan.” She sighed.
“Which is exactly why I brought dinner.” He held up a bag in one hand. “And there’s dessert in here too. I think some kind of double chocolate fudge mousse cake or something decadent like that.”