Just As I Am

by Lynn Jaxon

  “I am fine to walk up a few stairs, Benson. Seriously.” Then she rolls her eyes at me like that will make me change my mind. No freaking way. Escalator or nothing.

  We sit on one of the benches lining the corridor and wait. Em stands up when she sees people coming down the hallway towards us. Tears spring to her eyes when she sees each boy walking towards us with a gerbera daisy in their hand. They both smile and embrace their mother in a crushing hug. I scold them saying, “Boys, don’t crush your mother.” Both Mitch and Henry are built just like me. They are six feet, three inches to my six-foot-tall frame. They all dwarf Em’s mere five feet, five-inches.

  They look at their mom with love, and Henry says, “Look at you, rocking that hat. You look beautiful, Mom.”

  That’s my sweet Henry. I can see past his attempt to be funny and see the pain and fear in his eyes. He doesn’t even know the half of it. I don’t know how to tell them and shatter their world.

  Mitch mirrors his brother and says, “You always look beautiful, Mom.” I tried my best to train them well. They are going to make amazing husbands to some lucky ladies. I just hope that Em is going to be here to see it.

  I clear my throat and say, “What am I, chopped liver?” Em laughs out loud when I say this. The boys then turn and embrace me, patting me on the back.

  After hugging me, each boy wraps an arm around Em’s shoulder, and we head to baggage claim.

  Mitch looks over at me, while we are waiting for the buzzer to go off indicating that the bags are coming, and says, “Tell me what is going on. I have been sick with worry ever since the phone call.”

  “We will, Son, let’s just get you two settled at home and we’ll tell you everything at dinner.”

  I insist on picking up Pizza from Pop’s Pizza Company on the way home. Em does not need to prepare a big dinner for the boys. Pop’s Pizza is their favorite, and they can only get it when they are here. It is a family run pizza parlor we all love.

  The dinner table is silent except for the sound of eating. I can only eat a couple pieces of pizza. I watch Em, and she can only stomach a few bites and some salad. Both of our nerves are on edge at the thought of telling the boys just how bad things are for their mother.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emily

  I’m feeling physically ill having to tell Mitch and Henry that I am dying. My heart is racing and it feels like a ten-ton weight is sitting on my heart, shattering it into a billion pieces. To have to tell my babies that their mother isn’t going to bounce back from this is the hardest thing I will ever have to do. I can’t stop my hands from trembling as I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. With tears building in my eyes, I deliver the news that is going to tear their hearts out, too. “Boys, there is no easy way to tell you this, but I have a grade IV glioblastoma tumor in my brain. Those seemingly harmless headaches I’ve been having were not so harmless. This is an extremely aggressive, inoperable cancer. The doctor has given me less than three months to live.” Just saying this out loud makes it even more real. The tears I have been trying and failing, to hold back break free like a dam has burst.

  “Fuck that!” yelled Henry and he ran down the hall to his room, slamming the door.

  “Mitch, say something,” I said.

  “Mom, I don’t know what to say. I think I’m in shock. Everything in me wants to scream and run down the hall like Henry, but what good would that do?”

  Benson is sitting silently with his pain coming off him in waves. I don’t think he is saying anything for fear he will lose his composure.

  “Dad?” Mitch questions. “What’s the game plan? I know you, and I know you have a plan.”

  Benson takes a deep breath and says, “Your mother has chosen not to undergo chemotherapy and radiation. It will only prolong her pain, and at most extend her life for a few months. She doesn’t want to spend the last bit of her time with us sick. I want her to fight, but I understand where she is coming from. Marley is going to come and stay with us to help us when the time comes. The doctor says it won’t be long before your mom loses the ability to do some of her daily life skills.”

  From down the hallway, I hear a tear-filled broken voice that sounds more like my little boy than a man, “We don’t need Marley to take care of mom. Forget school, forget everything. I will be here to take care of her.”

  “Henry, that is not even an option. You will go back to school, and you will get that degree that you’re working so hard for. I am so proud of you boys. It would hurt me to know that you lost your dream because of me. We will make the most of the time we have together while you’re here on winter break. We will make this the most memorable Christmas ever.” I know God has big plans in store for my boys and I don’t intend for my illness to be the thing that destroys their dreams.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Benson

  Henry and Mitch take the news as expected. They are both tired from travel and emotionally drained from the bomb they had dropped on them today. After helping clean up the dinner plates, they both go to their rooms. It kills me as their father to see the pain in their eyes, and their hearts visibly torn in two.

  I feel like this is someone else’s reality and not my own. Em excused herself and went to the bedroom as soon as she finished eating. I heard the bath water running, so I know she took a bath and is probably already in bed. As soon as I open the bedroom door, I can smell her body wash and lotion. I wish I could have been in here to rub it into her soft, silky skin. The lights are out, and I can hear the steady cadence of her breathing and know she is already asleep. I slip out of my jeans and shirt, climbing into bed in only my briefs. The feel of the cold satin sheets and the smell of lavender and vanilla would normally have me begging to be inside her, but not tonight. Tonight, there is just a sadness in my heart thinking about the day I will no longer have that smell to turn me on and bring me ecstasy and joy.

  After laying here for what seems like hours, I quietly slip out of bed and go into my office. My mind is racing like a ticking time bomb. Helplessness and despair loom around me. There isn’t anything I can do to take her pain away and make her better; and as a man who is a ‘fixer,’ I feel like a failure. What am I going to do when she is gone? I love her so much it hurts. I am not usually a drinker, but I pour a glass of Crown and Coke to help relax me so maybe I can fall asleep. It’s my fourth glass, and I’m becoming numb to everything around me. I make my way on unsteady feet and crash into the bed falling into a deep yet dream-filled sleep.

  I wake up gasping for air. In my dream, Em was drowning in the angry ocean. The waves were lapping over her head and trying to pull her under. She was screaming my name asking me to save her. She was in the grips of the powerful undertow, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t make it out to her. She just kept slipping away. I guess that is my mind finding other ways to torture me.

  I have a horrible headache and feel like someone has shit in my mouth. This is one hell of a hangover. I haven’t felt like this since Alan dragged me to one of his frat parties when he was in college. I can only imagine how bad Em feels when one of her headaches have her in their grasp.

  When I look at the clock and see it’s only four o’clock in the morning, I get up and take a couple of aspirin and drink some water to help lessen the hangover that I’m sure is to come. I close my eyes and try to fall back asleep. By some miracle, I didn’t wake Em up. She needs as much rest as she can get.

  What seems like only minutes later, I wake to the smell of coffee and laughter in the kitchen. I stumble to the bathroom to brush my teeth and throw some cold water on my face. My eyes are bloodshot, and I have the indentions of sheet wrinkles on my face. Damn, I am a hot mess. And I don’t mean hot in a sexy way either. I pick up my phone, which is plugged into the charger on the vanity. Shit, it is already ten in the morning, and I have four missed calls from EM Fitness. I thought I told Alan that I was taking the rest of the week off. It’s from the main line, so it’s probably one of our workers, and he didn’t te
ll them I was off. I shoot off a text to Alan to see if there is a problem at work. He apologized and said that Barbie, the new girl he hired, couldn’t figure out how to set up a new account for automatic membership fee withdrawals at the bank. Evidently, he had stepped out of the office to run an errand, and she had a freak out. All is resolved now. He should have known better than to leave that airhead alone for even a few minutes. From how all the guys act, she’s easy on the eyes and has a great body, but I think she’s missing some grey matter. I’ll have to talk to Alan about that.

  I stand outside the kitchen door and just watch Em and the boys. She is making them Scooby Doo waffles in the waffle maker Henry wanted when he was six years old. I can’t believe that thing still works. After she pulls out the chocolate waffle, she squirts Reddi-wip on top and then, out of nowhere, she squirts it in Mitch’s and then Henry’s face. I can’t hold back my laughter at this point. All three of them turn their heads and have matching smiles on their faces. This is how it should be forever.

  Em wiggles her eyebrows and shakes the Reddi-wip can at me and says, “Do you want some now, or do you want me to save some for later?”

  Henry puts his finger down his throat and makes a gagging sound.

  Mitch pipes in and says, “I think it’s cool that our parents still dig each other. With that being said, it doesn’t mean I want to hear you guys.”

  Em turns bright red, but she loves every minute of it. I lean over and give her a kiss on the tip of her nose and tell her, “I’d love some now and later,” and then give her a wink and a slap on the ass.

  Em hugs me tight and says, “I didn’t think you would ever wake up. Are you feeling okay? It’s not like you to sleep in this late.”

  “I had a rough night. I went down to my office and tried to do some work, but ended up overindulging in Crown and Coke. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

  She looks a little shocked and concerned and says, “You hardly ever drink. I bet you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus.”

  “That I do my love, but it’s nothing the water, aspirin, and now coffee and waffles won’t cure. These are delicious. Squirt some extra cream on my chocolate.”

  Henry spits coffee out through his nose and mouth, turns and walks out of the kitchen.

  “Get back in here you pussy,” yells Mitch. “You have to help me wash the dishes.”

  When I finish eating, I clear off the table and kiss Em on the back of her neck. She loves it when I do that. It’s her spot. She turns, hugging me, and lays her head on my shoulder.

  Em goes over to the junk drawer and pulls out a notepad and pen. “What do you want to eat this week? I am about to go to the grocery store.”

  “You know I don’t care. We can order out if that would be easier on you. Why don’t you just order the groceries online and I can pick them up tomorrow?”

  Em’s mouth opens in feigned indignation, “What fun is that? I’m one of the few people who actually loves to go to the grocery store. I want to smell and touch my produce and meat before I buy it.”

  I lean into her, whispering in her ear, “You can smell and squeeze my meat anytime, baby.”

  An eye roll and elbow to my ribs later, she is picking up her keys to get ready to go. “Okay, baby. I’m going to go for a run while you’re at the store. You should see if one of the boys wants to go with you.” She really shouldn’t be driving the car now that she is having seizures. “Em, baby, I think Henry should drive you. Just in case you have another seizure. You would never forgive yourself if you had an accident and someone was hurt.”

  Henry takes the keys to the Audi from his mom, and they go to the grocery store, while Mitch goes running with me. We run on the city-wide walking trail, lost in our own thoughts. Neither one of us has the energy to talk. Eight miles later, we are huffing and puffing in the front yard.

  “Not bad old man. I’m done. I don’t know how you do this shit every day.”

  “Oh, come on Mitch. Don’t you want to go for another five and you can say you ran a half marathon with your old man?”

  “No fucking thank you. I’ll leave that shit for you. I think I will go do some bicep curls bringing a nice cold beer can up to my mouth.”

  “Your mother would smack you if she heard you talking like that. She’ll smack me, too, for letting you.”

  Mitch chuckles and says, “I’m a grown ass man. You act as if I’m still a fifteen-year-old boy, wet behind the ears.”

  Just as we are about to walk inside the house, Em and Henry pull up. We stay and help them bring in the groceries.

  “Did you buy out the store, Em?”

  “I’ve got to make sure my babies eat. You don’t want them to go hungry, do you?”

  “Henry, how much junk food did you add to the cart? I know you’re the one with the sweet tooth.”

  “Don’t look at me, it was mom. She has the sweet tooth. I think she bought ten pounds of dark chocolate. Not to mention the Starbucks run on the way home. Can’t forget the lemon loaf and peppermint mocha.”

  “Don’t be telling on me, Henry. That’s not nice. If you want to drive my car again you better be keeping my little secrets.”

  Suddenly, in the middle of laughing and joking with Henry, Em drops the bag of groceries she’s carrying and screams out, holding her head. I run and drop to my knees in front of her, panic overtaking me.

  “Em, Em, can you hear me?” I feel helpless. We all feel helpless. I look back at Henry and see the same look of fear and helplessness that is on my face.

  “Dad, do something!” yells Henry. “What’s wrong with mom?”

  I swoop her up and carry her into the house and place her on the bed. I run into the bathroom and get the pain medication that Dr. Banks gave her. Mitch brings a glass of water and hands it to me.

  “Baby, can you raise your head up and take this pill? It will help with the pain.”

  At first, I don’t know if she can hear me and then she responds. I am absolutely horrified, as is she by the look in her eyes, when her words come out slurred and almost unrecognizable. Her eyes go wide and panic stricken. Mitch and Henry seem to be in shock. Is this what the doctor was talking about when he said she’d lose her bodily functions and daily living skills? How can this be happening so soon?

  Em’s arms shake as she reaches to take the pills. She puts them in her mouth and attempts to swallow. It takes her several tries to get the two small tablets to go down.

  I turn out the lights and then lift her back into my arms. Holding her in one arm, I pull back the covers with the other and place her on the cool silky sheets. I climb into bed with her and wrap my arms around her, just holding her and hoping her pain will soon fade. I ask the boys to please finish unloading the groceries and promise to update them soon.

  It doesn’t take long for the medicine to kick in, and Em is fast asleep. I slide out of bed, taking extra care to not wake her up, and go into the living room to talk to Mitch and Henry. They are sitting on the couch looking at old photo albums. Both of their eyes are rimmed red.

  “Hey, guys. What are you doing?” I say as I sit down next to them on the couch.

  Mitch turns to face me. “We’re looking at old family pictures of Mom.” He drops his head and says, “The end is closer than we think, isn’t it? Don’t sugar coat it for us. We saw her struggle to just speak and swallow two baby pills.”

  “I don’t know how much time we have left with her, Son. I am going to call Dr. Banks and let him know what has happened. Maybe we’ll know some more after I talk to him.”

  Before I can call Dr. Banks, I hear Em’s phone ringing in the kitchen. I run to the kitchen and grab it off the table. Her caller ID tells me it’s Marley. I quickly answer the phone, so it doesn’t wake up Em.

  “Hello,” I say in a voice that doesn’t even sound like my own.

  “Benson, is that you? Is everything okay? It’s not like you to answer Em’s phone.”

  I steel myself and take a deep breath and tell her everythin
g that has happened this afternoon. Silence greets me for what seems like hours, but in all reality is only seconds.

  “This is happening too fast,” she says. “I was calling to let her know that my plane will arrive on Monday at nine in the morning. Do you need me to try and get an earlier flight?”

  “Thanks Marley, we will be fine. One of us will be there to pick you up on Monday. I’ve got to go and try to reach Dr. Banks at the medical exchange.”

  “Benson, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. Life is so unfair. I will see you Monday.”

  We both exchange a goodbye and then hang up. I call the medical exchange and ask them to page Dr. Banks. Not even ten minutes later my phone rings, and he is returning my call.

  “This is Dr. Banks, what can I help you with?”

  “Sorry to bother you on a Saturday Dr. Banks. This is Benson Davis. It’s Emily. She had another episode with her headaches, and when she tried to speak, her words were slurred, and she could barely swallow the pain pills you gave her. I didn’t expect her symptoms to escalate this fast.” I ramble on, barely taking the time to catch my breath between sentences.

  Dr. Banks is quiet for a minute, and I can hear paper shuffling around in the background. “I didn’t expect these symptoms so soon either, but with this aggressive type of cancer, I can’t say that I am completely surprised. I don’t know how to tell you this, but you should prepare yourself for a fast decline from here. Would you like me to get you in touch with hospice?”

  I can’t fight the tears, and I don’t even try. “No, no hospice. Em’s best friend will be here on Monday. She is a nurse and is going to stay with us.”

  “That’s right. I remember you telling me that at the office. Here is my personal number that you can use to call me if you need anything. Em is loved by everyone at the hospital, and we will do everything we can to make the time she has left as comfortable as possible.”