Bright Side (38 page)

(Kate)

I said good bye to Pete earlier today. He was uncomfortable and that was hard because I hate being the cause of heavy feelings in anyone, especially someone I care about. He’s going back home until spring semester picks up again mid-January.

He told me he’d see me then.

He won’t.

We both know that. He just didn’t know what else to say. I told him that I’m going to miss him.

We hugged.

Clayton helped me box up the last of my things that I’d left in my dorm room and he put them in the back of my car for me because I couldn’t lift them myself. This is the first time I’ve actually been embarrassed by my illness. Turning into a big pussy is humiliating.

I’m trying not to get sad about this chapter of my life ending, but that’s hard when I know Clayton’s leaving soon, too. He’s going home to spend
a month with his family and then move to L.A. to be with Morris. I’ll miss him. And I know this is hard for him, helping me, but I didn’t have the heart to ask Keller to do it. Keller has enough on his plate right now and I don’t want to add to the stress by checking another thing off my final to-do list. Everything just feels so final now. We’ve gone so quickly from firsts to lasts in this relationship that it doesn’t seem fair to burden him with this.

(Kate)

“Merry Christmas, Kate.” Audrey’s voice has always sounded like an angel’s voice to me, even over the phone. As a little kid I remember going over to Gus and Audrey’s house and looking forward to seeing her because she always talked to me. And she was nice when she did it. My mother didn’t talk to Grace or me much and when she did she usually yelled. Audrey never yelled. I always thought that if I ever met an angel, she would sound just like Audrey.

“Merry Christmas, Audrey. Did you and Gus eat cinnamon rolls on the beach this morning?”

“We did.” She’s smiling, I hear it. Gus got home yesterday. She’s missed him while he’s been on tour. He always makes her smile.

Cinnamon rolls on the beach is a Hawthorne Christmas morning tradition.
Every Christmas morning, before sunrise, Gracie and I would walk next door in our pajamas to Gus and Audrey’s house. Gus was always awake because he was too excited to sleep on Christmas Eve. Gus
loves
Christmas. So we would all wake Audrey up and she’d put a pan of cinnamon rolls in the oven. When they were done she’d take us out on the beach in front of their house and spread out a blanket. We’d all sit down and eat, and we weren’t allowed to open presents until the pan was empty. We did it every year. Those are my favorite Christmas memories. I remember that Gracie and I were always sad to go home after that. Our mother wasn’t one to rise much before noon on any given day, and Christmas was no exception. She was never awake when we got home, and she never made us cinnamon rolls. 

“I missed being there with you,” I say. “I did bake cinnamon rolls for Keller and Stella this morning though, and made them eat the whole pan before we opened presents. Slight rule change: we didn’t go outside. Ten degrees is
kinda hardcore.”

She laughs. “Celebrating inside is probably best for Minnesota. I’m glad you could share the tradition with them.”

“Me too.” I want to share
everything
with them. Little things like this are important.

“Have you talked to Gus yet today? I can go get him. He’s down in the theater room watching a movie while I make dinner.”

“That’s okay; I talked to him earlier for a few minutes. I’ll catch up with him later tonight. I wanted to talk with you, Audrey.”

“Of course dear, what is it?” Audrey has always composed herself extremely well. She wears her heart on her sleeve like Gus, but she’s better at keeping her shit together. I bet that she’s trying so hard to sound simply concerned and not scared right now.

“Remember how we talked about me coming home when it gets to be too much?”

“Of course, yes.”

“I think it’s almost time.” I’m trying to fight back tears, because I really don’t want to cry. This is reality, and this is just the next step.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay sweetie. Okay … Yes … ” Her mind must be reeling, because this isn’t Audrey. Audrey never pauses or stumbles over thoughts or words. She always knows what to say.
             

A fist is clenching inside my chest because I’m beginning to fear that maybe she doesn’t know what to do with me. Maybe I’m asking too much.

But she rebounds. “Sweetie, I’m going to put you in the guest room so you’ll have your own bathroom. Email me your doctors’ names and contact information. I want it for both your doctor here, as well as the one you’ve been seeing in Minnesota. I’ll set up a conference call with both of them immediately and make sure I have everything I need here at the house to care for you properly. Make sure you include a complete list of any medications you’re currently taking. I know you’re allergic to penicillin, but if you have any other allergies I don’t know about, include those too. Health insurance information would also be helpful. Do you have any other special requirements? Anything else I can put in your room? If so, let me know. I’ll make sure everything’s ready when you arrive.”

Don’t know why I doubted her. That’s Audrey. She’s fucking Wonder Woman. “Thank you
, Audrey. I think I’ll be there around New Year’s, if that’s all right?”

“Kate, you’re one of my children. You know that, sweetie. I wish with all my heart that you were coming back under different circumstances, but you are always welcome in my home. I would move heaven and Earth for you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, very much.”

“I’m giving you a big hug through the phone now. Can you feel it?” She’s always been a hugger.

I can feel it.

I don’t have the heart to tell Keller I talked to Audrey. He knows this has been coming. When it does it will crush him. I’m not looking forward to that. At all. I would tough it out here if I could, but I can’t do that to him or Stella. I know the end is going to be ugly and demanding on everyone. I honestly don’t want to ask anyone to be there with me through it, but if you can’t ask your mom, who can you ask? I’ve always thought of Audrey as my mom. Janice may have been my mother, but Audrey is my mom. Even still, this is the first day of my entire life that I wish she wasn’t. Someone like her shouldn’t have to go through this.

(Kate)

I’m angry today. I wish I wasn’t.
Goddammit
, I wish I wasn’t … but I am.

I saw Dr. Connell this morning. He looked at my charts, my recent lab results, and then to me.
He didn’t have his poker face on. I called him on it, because frankly at this stage in the game I’d like to see just one fucking person that didn’t look at me with pity in his eyes.

Keller’s trying so damn hard not to, but even he slips sometimes.

So, yeah. I’m angry today.

Really.

Fucking.

Angry.

I’ve been yelling at God in my head all morning.
Why do I have to be the one who’s dying? Why can’t it be someone else? Someone I’ve never met who lives far away?

I know that sounds awful, but it’s how I feel today. And that’s why I can’t go back to Keller’s yet. Keller and Stella don’t deserve to see or feel this kind of anger.

I’m leaving Saturday to go back to San Diego. I bought my ticket yesterday and told Keller last night after Stella went to bed. To say he didn’t take it well would be an understatement. He broke apart into a million pieces in front of me. He tried so hard not to. Watching him fall apart like that, knowing that I was the one responsible for creating that kind of devastation in the man I love with all my heart ... yeah, I hated myself.

So, right now, I’m sitting in my car in the parking garage of some random business in downtown Minneapolis and I don’t know what to do next.

And when I don’t know what to do next, I talk to Gus. I shouldn’t call him angry, but I’m out of ideas and if I don’t do something in the next five minutes, I’m going to fucking lose it. So I call him. He answers on the first ring.

“Bright Side, how’s it
hangin’?”

“I don’t want to die.” I say, defiantly.

“Bright Side, what?” He’s confused.

Of course he’s confused. No one starts a conversation like that.

I repeat, “I don’t want to fucking die.”

“Oh, shit, Bright Side.” I hear him take a deep breath, a primer for the conversation that’s about to unfold. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m fucking dying, Gus. I don’t want to die.
That’s
what’s fucking going on.” I hit the steering wheel with my palms. “Goddammit!” I scream. I’ve only ever freaked out on Gus twice in my life, once when I found my mother hanging from the ceiling, and again when Gracie died. Gus doesn’t deserve this, but I know he’ll deal with it better than anyone else would.

“Calm down, dude. Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I’m sitting in my car in a fucking parking garage in the middle of motherfucking Minneapolis, Minnesota.” That was hostile.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yes,” I snap.

“You’re not supposed to be driving while you’re on your pain meds.”

I don’t want his fatherly tone. “I know that.”

“Are you in danger or hurt?”

I burst out laughing, surprised that I can’t even laugh without sounding angry. The question is absurd to me though.
I’m dying
.

“Bright Side, shut up for a second and talk to me. Do I need to call 911? What the fuck is going on?” He sounds scared.

I shake my head like he can see me. “No, no. I’m just ... I’m fucking mad, Gus. That’s all.” And at a loss for words because my mind is jumbled up into this bitter, resentful ball. I don’t know what else to say so I repeat myself. “I’m really fucking mad.”

“Well shit, by all means, there’s plenty of room at my table for anger.” He gets it. That’s why I called him, after all. “I’ve been dishing out heaping servings of fury for the past month. I feel better knowing I’m not the only one in this whole debacle with some rage issues. So fire away. Fucking give it to me.”

I do. An explosive, steady stream of expletives flows out of me. I’m cursing it all, shouting out questions, pounding the steering wheel, and wiping away hot, angry tears. Occasionally Gus joins in, yelling affirmations. Sometimes he waits for a pause on my part and takes his turn and sometimes he just steamrolls over the top of me.

He’s not yelling
at
me, he’s yelling
with
me.

After what could be hours, but is more likely minutes, I stop yelling. In my outburst I’ve lost all sense of time and place. It takes a couple of minutes for my heart rate to slow down and my head to clear. Eventually, my tears stop, and I’m able to take normal breaths. My throat feels tight and my head hurts a little, but I’m calm. On the other end of the line, Gus gets quiet, too. Silence falls between us.

I know he’s giving me whatever time I need. He’d sit here all day and never say another word if that’s what I needed.

My voice is raspy when I decide to break the silence. “Gus?”

“Yeah, Bright Side.” He sounds like himself again. Calm.

“Thanks.” I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me. And now I need to apologize. “Sorry, dude.”

He laughs. “No worries. You feel better?”

I can actually smile now. “Yeah, I really do.”

“Good, me too. I think we should’ve done this weeks ago.”

“I think I should’ve done it months ago.” I mean it. It felt so good to let it all out.

“Bright Side, you know I love you all happy and adorable in your little world of sunshine and rainbows, but you’re kinda hot when you’re angry. I dig aggressive chicks. And that was
crazy
aggressive.”

He knows I’m going to say it, but I can’t help myself. “Whatever.” I even roll my eyes.

“I think I’m gonna rename you Demon Seed.”

“What? I show you my dark side and now I have to be the fucking antichrist? I don’t like that. Why can’t I just be Angry Bitch?”

He laughs hard and my heart swells because I haven’t heard this laugh out of Gus in a month. And I love this laugh.

“Well dude, since it seems my therapy session has wrapped up, I’d better get going. I need to get home.”

“Sure. Drive slowly and text me when you get there so I know you made it. And no more driving after this trip.”

“Yes sir. I love you, Gus.”

“Love you, too, Angry Bitch,” his voice low and dramatic. He pauses because he knows I’m not going to hang up to that. “I was just trying it out,” he says innocently.

“I don’t think I like it.”

“Me neither,” he says matter-of-factly. “Love you, too, Bright Side.”

“That’s better.” I like being Bright Side. I like it a lot.

(Kate)

“Gus is flying home with you tomorrow.” Keller has his arms folded over his chest. He’s expecting me to fight him on this.

He expected right. “Gus is flying
here
?” Normally I’d be happy to see Gus, but the fact that I’m being babysat is irritating as all hell.

He nods.

“When does he get here?” Now I cross my arms too, in an act of defiance. Even Stella doesn’t act like this. What’s gotten into me?

“His flight gets in about two hours before yours takes off. He’ll meet us in the terminal and take you from there since I can’t go beyond security.” It’s straightforward Keller. He wants to get through this quickly.
He knows I’ve been grouchy all day and this is only going to make it worse.

I know they’re only thinking of me, but I hate being treated like an invalid. “I’m not a fucking child, Keller.”

He rubs his temples with the heels of his hands. “Babe, I know that.” My pissy attitude is testing his patience. “Do you want something to eat? It’s dinner time. Are you hungry? I can make something so you can take your medicine.” He’s trying to change the subject, trying to help me. But I’m still upset.

I deflect and go right back for more. “Whose idea was this?”

“Ours.” It’s exasperated. He wants to be done with this.

“So, you and Gus orchestrated the rescue together? I don’t get a vote? All I need to do is get on a plane, Keller. I think I can do that on my own.” I don’t
want
to be mean. It’s not me at all, but today I can’t help it. Thank God Shelly and Duncan came and picked up Stella this morning so she could spend the day and night with them. I don’t want her to ever see me acting this way. No one deserves to see me this way. Especially not Keller. The pain and misery of my illness is transforming me into someone I despise.

“Jesus, Katie, what do you want me to do? You’re not sick enough to have an escort home, but you’re sick enough to leave here? Abandon me for San Diego and Gus?”

The words open a fresh, gaping wound of guilt, so I lash out. “Stop right there and back the fuck up. This isn’t a popularity contest.” I’m so pissed that my head is starting to throb. I’m not choosing one person over another because I care for him more. I have to choose someone—
someplace
—to bear this burden. Huge difference.

He turns his back to me, put his hands on his hips, and then turns around to face me again. “In my heart I know that. I
know
that. But I’m jealous. There, I said it. I’m fucking jealous. That’s as honest as I can be.”

My normally sympathetic self is gone. “
That’s stupid
.”

His irritation is short-lived. He’s not joining me in my anger. His face drops, and I can tell that he’s retreating into sadness. “I can’t argue with that. It is stupid. Stupid and immature. I’m working on it. Your relationship with Gus was built over decades. I only got a few months.
That makes me jealous. I just ... want more. I want more time with you.”

This is heartbreaking, but I’m still angry. My heart desperately wants my mouth to shut up, but I fire back, “And you don’t think I want that?”

He shakes his head and steps toward me to put his hands on my shoulders.

I take a step back out of his reach.

“Babe, I know you want that, too. I wasn’t trying to imply—“

I cut him off, breathing heavily
, and squinting through the pain. “Fine. You want me to stay here? You want to watch my lungs battle for oxygen turn into an all-out war? You want to watch this shit really amp up as my liver finishes its descent into hell? You want to watch them pump me so fucking full of narcotics to relieve the pain that I can’t think straight or speak like a normal person? You want to watch me waste away to nothing and starve to death when I can’t eat or drink anymore? It’s going to be fucking glorious—” I’m yelling when he interrupts.

His hands are covering his ears and there are tears in his eyes. “Stop! Just stop. I don’t want to fight with you, babe. I want to help you. I want to take away your pain. I want to love you.
That’s all I want
.” He gives me a desperate look, like he wants to reach out for me again. Instead, he reaches for his coat hanging over the back of the loveseat, slips it on, and walks toward the door. “I’m going to take a walk. Try to calm down. It isn’t good for you to get this worked up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I can’t watch him walk out the door but I hear it shut quietly behind him. The lump in my throat cannot be swallowed back and before I know what’s happening, I’m sobbing. It’s the kind of sob that makes me feel like I’m drowning. There’s no sound coming out and I’m gasping for air. I can’t catch my breath
. My shoulders are shaking violently and my head is pounding. Physically, my body is fighting against the havoc brought on by each new sob. My muscles are strained and tight, amplifying the pain. I’ve never believed you could die from pain alone. Surely there’s nothing so intense that it would actually stop your heart from beating.

Now I’m rethinking everything.

I need my medicine.

I take two steps toward the bathroom before a sudden jolt of pain takes me down. Lying on the floor, it feels like I’ve all but lost control of my body and my mind. I hear myself scream through the silence as oxygen forces its way into my lungs for what feels like the first time in minutes. My second or third exhalation of pained shrieking is accompanied by bile, and seconds later I spew the entire contents of my stomach onto the hardwood floor. That was the first food I’ve been able to stomach in two days. And now it’s gone.

I’m still sobbing, but the anger is gone. Now, the only emotion I can focus on is fear. Pain is dominant, but fear is creeping in like a predator ready to attack, coming in for the kill. I can’t turn my back on it or it will take me down. Is this what my life has been reduced to? Lying on the floor in a pool of my own vomit, unable to stop crying, mentally unable to calm down, physically unable to stand up?

The edges of my vision are fading to black. Things are going dark, and this scares me more than ever. My entire body suddenly goes rigid
with pain. One last thought crosses my mind.
Now I understand why my mother ended it all
.   

Sometimes, when something terrible is happening, I try my damnedest to concentrate on the most inconsequential, unrelated detail readily available to me. A detail that, in the grand scheme of things, has nothing to do with the situation at hand. At this moment, that detail would be the fact that it’s fucking disgusting under the loveseat. I’m lying on the floor trying to figure out what just happened, but the only thing I can focus on is the fact that Keller and Duncan have probably never swept under this loveseat.

The next thought that crosses my mind is how much my jaw hurts. My teeth feel like I’ve been clenching them through a long night’s sleep. My eyelids feel crusty and sticky. And it smells like something died, like rotten food and urine. My memory is foggy. This is what it feels like to wake up from a deep sleep.

I repeat that thought. This is what it feels like to wake up.

I just woke up?

I roll to my back, which takes great effort. I look at the ceiling. What the hell just happened? My limbs feel like they’re filled with jelly and my joints ache like I’ve just run a marathon. I try to sit up, but I’m so dizzy that I decide to lay back down on the floor.

Looking down at my clothes, I realize where the god awful smells are coming from. I’ve puked all over myself and the floor. Shit. This is one of my favorite shirts. Well, now it’s history. Pretty sure recycled spaghetti sauce doesn’t come out any better than first generation spaghetti sauce. I feel wet between my legs, too. Great. Pissing myself hasn’t helped matters, either.

“Keller?” My voice is hoarse and my throat hurts. It doesn’t sound like me.

There’s no response.

I’m able to push myself to my hands and knees. I crawl to the bathroom, take my medicine, and get myself into the shower. My strength is gone, but I can’t take this smell anymore. The water feels good so I curl up on the tile floor and let it soak into my clothes and hair.

The jumbled memories in my head begin reassembling themselves. I remember the fight with Keller, the yelling. I remember him leaving. I remember crying, and the pain, and the shaking, and the vomiting. And then I remember nothing. And it all makes perfect sense.

“Katie?” Keller’s voice is muffled and far away but the panic is undeniable. The bathroom door nearly comes unhinged when it’s thrown open. “Katie?” He’s crying. It’s
ninety-five percent fear, five percent sadness. When he sees me it shifts, five percent fear, ninety-five percent sadness. “Babe, what happened?” After turning off the water, he’s on his knees leaning into the shower cradling my head up and out of the water pooling around me with one hand while he’s searching his jeans pocket for his cell phone. “Shit, where’s my phone. I need to call an ambulance.”

I shake my head. “No, no ambulance.” I feel like shit for treating him like I have all day. Whatever horrible feelings I was harboring earlier, they’re gone. I look him in the eyes and don’t like what I see. “Pretty sure I had a panic attack and then I blacked out. I’m not going back to that damn hospital.”

His face falls and he brushes the hair away. Then he climbs into the shower with me, fully-clothed, and pulls me into his lap. He’s holding me, rocking back and forth.

My cheek rests against his pounding heart. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. About earlier. I’m not mad at you; I’ve just been in a shitty mood.” I gesture to my wet clothes. “Obviously I do need someone to take care of me.”

He tightens his hold on me. “I’m so sorry, Katie. I never should’ve walked out on you like that. I should’ve been here.” He’s beating himself up.

I raise my chin so I can see his face. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Oh Katie, I’m so sorry. I hate this. I hate that you’re sick and there’s nothing I can do to make it better. I just want to make it all go away.”

“You make it better every day. You may not be able to heal my body, but you heal my spirit. I think that’s why I’ve been so upset all day. I don’t want to leave you.” Tears are pooling in my eyes. “I don’t. But I have to. I can’t be a burden to you, especially with Stella here. The end is going to be awful. I’ve accepted that. I know that you’d go through it with me if I asked you to, but I can’t do that to you. Audrey’s already made arrangements to have a hospice nurse come to her house to keep an eye on me. I want you to remember the good times, not the shitty ones. Not the end.”

He sits me up, and we look at one another with tears in our eyes. “I’d do anything for you, Katie. I’d walk through hell and back. All you have to do is ask.”

It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever say. “I think I need you to just let me go, baby.” I squeeze my eyes shut against the tears.

His face contorts in pain, and he fights back a sob. “We still have tonight, right?”

I smile and nod. “We do.”

Keller peels our wet clothes off and wraps me in a towel. After he returns with clean clothes for both of us, he dresses and helps me into sweatpants and a sweatshirt and proceeds to comb the tangles out of my wet hair.

I close my eyes. “You’re pretty good at this.”

I can’t see his face but I know he’s smiling. “Years of practice. I’m a dad, remember?”

I think of him caring for Stella as a child. I think of him guiding her as a teenager, of him being there for her as an adult. All of it makes me happy. Keller has a purpose, a reason to keep going after I leave. That gives me some peace. I need to remind him what a great dad he is. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

He raises an eyebrow at my comment. “Really?”

I nod. “Definitely.” I’m exhausted and my body aches all over from my episode earlier. “Can we finish this conversation in bed?”

Taking my hand he helps me stand. “There’s something we need to do first,” he says, and walks me through the door to Grounds. It’s closed up for the night, so it’s dim and quiet. He stops when we’re standing in front of the window. He squeezes my hand. “Let’s watch the sunset.”

I smile and hold his hand with both of mine as I look out toward the horizon. My grip intensifies as the colors shift into brilliant pinks and blues, and it’s only as darkness descends that I realize how hard I’m squeezing.

The look in his eyes is love, plain and simple. “I love how passionate you are about the important things in life. Like sunsets.” He smiles. “And people.”

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him on the chin. “Sunsets and people, that’s what it’s all about. Especially people. Extra passionate if
his name’s Keller Banks.”

He squats and scoops me up into his arms.  Before I know it we’re standing next to his bed. He pulls back the covers, props up the pillows, and helps me into bed before sliding in beside me. I rest my head back against the wall and look at him. I want to remember him exactly like this.

“I wish I knew you better, Keller.” I do.

He slides his arm behind me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to him. Resting my cheek against his bare chest I hear his heart beating, slow and steady. He kisses the top of my head. “Katie, you know me better than anyone else. You may not know all the trivial stuff, but you know
me
. The real me, deep down. You know how I think, what I fear, how I love. No one’s ever seen me the way you do. Not even Lily.”