Bright Side (39 page)

I smile. “Can we play a game?”

He laughs. “You wanna play a game?”

“Yeah. What’s your favorite color?” I prompt. “I want to know
some
of the trivial stuff.”

“Okay. Umm … ”

“It’s not a hard question, baby,” I tease.

He laughs again. “I know. I’m going to say black. What about you?”

I don’t hesitate. “Orange. Sunset-over-the-Pacific orange. Your turn.”

“
Mmm. Okay … what’s your favorite food? And you can’t say coffee.”

“Chocolate … or tacos.”

“Which is it? Only one answer. It’s not a hard question, babe.” He’s having fun with this.

“Fine. Veggie tacos. You?”

“My Nana’s homemade lasagna.”

“Your mom’s mom or your dad’s mom?”

“My mother’s mother. They were nothing alike. Stella’s named after her.” He smiles. “She visited every year at Christmas and always made lasagna. She died when I was ten.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, she was fun. I miss her. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Umm, cats. I always wanted a Siamese. I wanted to name him Mr. Miyagi.”

“Mr. Miyagi?”

“Yeah, you know, the old dude in the original
Karate Kid
movie.”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t understand.

“You’ve never seen the original
Karate Kid
movie?” I’m shocked. Gracie and I were practically raised on my mother’s old collection of ‘80s movies and a VCR. We could recite
Pretty in Pink
word for word.

“No.” It doesn’t register. He’s not kidding.

“Well, you need to. You’re clearly lacking in ‘80s culture.”

He smiles. “Clearly.”

“Now that that’s cleared up, what’s your favorite animal?”

“I feel like I should say turtles, given Stella’s preoccupation.” I laugh and he continues. “But probably dolphins. I’ve always wanted to swim with one.”

“Did you play sports in high school?”

“Nah, I was a nerd. I ran or rode my bike a lot just to get out of the house, but that was the extent of it, living in the city like we did. You surfed, though. Anything else?”

“No, music-based schools don’t put much emphasis on athletics. Just surfing. And dancing.”

It’s Keller’s turn. “Okay, next question: Young Elvis or old Elvis?”

“That’s actually a really good question. Old Elvis.”

“Why?” he challenges.

“Because young Elvis was handsome, but old Elvis could sing his ass off. ‘Suspicious Minds’ was the best song he ever recorded. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard a live recording of it. He killed it. What about you? Young or old?”

“I like old Elvis, but mostly because of the jumpsuits.”

“Old Elvis did have great stage-wear,” I agree. “Okay. Next: if you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Hmm. I’d like to take Stella to see the pyramids in Egypt someday. That’s something I always wanted to see as a kid. They seemed so magical. They still do. So, yeah, Egypt. What about you?”

“I saw a documentary about Ha Long Bay in Vietnam when I was in seventh grade and ever since then it’s been the one place I always thought would be remarkable to see in person. Like pictures somehow didn’t do it justice. I needed to see it with my own eyes to believe a place so beautiful could actually exist.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, stroking my hair. It feels good, but the silence has me curious. I roll off his chest onto the pillow next to him. We’re lying nose to nose. He looks deep in thought. “What is it, baby?”

He hesitates. “Can we just set aside reality and live in this moment for a few more questions? I don’t want to make you sad; I just want to pretend we’ll both live forever. That anything’s possible.”

I smile. “You mean I get to live in a fairy tale world of sunshine and rainbows for a little bit?”

He relaxes and smiles, too. “And unicorns.”

“Of course. Unicorns. I always forget.”

“In my fairy tale, another year and a half has passed. I’m graduating with my English degree. And I ask you to marry me. What would you say?”

I don’t hesitate. “Would you get down on one knee?”

“Absolutely.”

My heart is fluttering in my chest as if the question is real. “I would say yes.
Hell yes
.”

His smile grows and he kisses me on the nose. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

It’s my turn. I’m anxious about this one. “Would we have kids? A brother or sister for Stella?”

“We’d have one of each. A boy and a girl. And they’d look just like you.”

“That’s not fair. I think they should have your hair and eyes. And height. Oh, and your lips, too.” I kiss them.

He kisses me back and in between kisses he asks softly, “You like my lips?”

I moan my approval as I deepen the kiss. “Mmm hmm.”

After a minute I have to break the kiss because I’m getting tired and out of breath. Sex is out of the question at this point. Hell, kissing seems to be too much.

Keller understands and holds my gaze. “Your children would be beautiful, and talented, and smart. But I would teach them to drive.”

The sweet conversation and his teasing bring a smile to my face again. “And I would let you. You’re an excellent driving instructor. And even though our family would be perfect, I wouldn’t let you put those stupid stick figure family stickers on the back window of our car.”

He laughs. “Agreed. No stick figure family stickers.”

My heart feels lighter. He’s given me a wonderful gift. “I love you, baby.”

“Mmm. Again.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, babe. Always.”

(Kate)

Dr. Connell gave me a handicapped placard for my car. I’ve never used it before today. It’s lying on the dashboard because Keller and I both silently agreed not to display it until the last minute. After Keller finds a parking spot close to the terminal, he waits until I open the passenger door to get out before he slips it on the rearview mirror.

I open the door and help Stella out of her child safety seat while Keller gets my rolling suitcase out of the back hatch. He’s shipping my violin and the rest of my belongings—which don’t amount to much—to Audrey’s house on Monday.

I’m looking at the terminal and even though it’s fairly close, I wonder how in the hell I’m going to walk all that way. Just looking at it makes me feel short of breath. He sees the apprehension in my face and turns around, searching the lot for something. “Katie, why don’t you get back in the car and I’ll go see if I can find a wheelchair. I’m sure they have one that we can borrow to get you inside.” He looks sad to have to say it; like he’s afraid he’ll hurt my feelings.

I know I shouldn’t hesitate. That I should just let him go get the damn wheelchair. But the thought of it seems impossible to accept. I stand in quiet protest. He knows this is hard for me.

He walks over and kneels down in front of Stella. “Hey, big girl, you think you can help me out?”

She nods enthusiastically.

He takes her hand and walks her to my suitcase. “You think you can pull this inside the airport?”

She nods again and takes the handle confidently. She tips it and the handle almost hits the ground before she recovers and finds the right balance. She looks up and beams at him. “Got it. Ready, Daddy?”

He smiles back. “Almost.” Keller turns his back to me and squats to the ground. “Climb on, babe.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Keller, you’re not going to carry me.”

He shrugs. “It’s not carrying; it’s a piggyback ride. There’s a difference. Ask Stella.”

Stella’s giggling. She thinks this is funny.

“What’s the difference, Stella?”

The giggling stops, but she’s still smiling. “Carrying is for when you’re too sleepy to walk. Piggyback rides are for fun.”

He smiles. “Well said, Stella. See? Come on, babe.”

How can I argue with that kind of logic?

Even with Stella pulling the suitcase and Keller carrying me, we make good time through check-in and arrive at security fifteen minutes early. We sit down on a bench and Keller texts Gus our location.

Far too quickly, Gus is standing in front of me. I love seeing Gus, but the gravity of the situation is hitting me. This is another one of those final steps. I’m not dealing with final steps very well.

“Hey Bright Side.” He's squatting in front of me kissing me on the forehead.

“Hey Gus.” I’m trying to be strong, but an overpowering sadness is rising within me.

Gus shakes Keller’s hand, and Stella crawls up into Gus’s lap. “Hi Gus.”

“Well hello, Miss Stella.”

She’s blinking her big blue eyes at him. “Is Kate going to live with you and your mommy?”

He swallows and nods. This is hard for him, too. “She is.”

“Daddy says she’s sick.”

Gus can only nod.

“Will you take good care of her?”

He swallows again and locks eyes with Keller. “I promise. We’ll take good care of her.”

Keller nods
. It’s thank you.

Gus nods
. It’s you’re welcome.

Gus stands, lifting Stella into his arms. “Let’s go get something to drink Stella. I’m thirsty, what about you?” They walk down the corridor towards a newspaper stand and snack shop.

I’m looking at Keller now, and I don’t know what to say. I’m scared and I’m sad, but I know he feels the same way. I want to be strong for him, but the lump in my throat is making it so difficult.

He takes my hand in his, and reaches his other hand into the pocket of his coat and pulls out a sharpie. He uncaps the marker and writes on the palm of my left hand.
You are brave.

The tears spill over one by one as I mouth, “Thank you.”

He takes my face gently in both of his hands. There are tears in his eyes, too. “No Katie, thank you. For everything. You are the bravest person I have ever known.”

After what seems like merely a moment,
Gus and Stella are approaching again. Stella has a bottle of juice and Gus is empty-handed. He wasn’t thirsty; he was just giving us a minute alone.

Gus glances at his watch. “We’d probably better get going, Bright Side. Security lines are long.”

I nod. I look down to see Stella tugging on my coat. “Kate.” She’s raising her arms up over her head.

I wish I could lift her but I don’t have the strength.
Instead I kneel down and hug her. She’s so small and dainty. Her hair smells like lavender today. “Be good for your daddy, Stella.”

She’s clinging to me. “I will. Will you call us or talk to us on the computer?”

I squeeze tighter. “I will. Every day. I love you.”

She pulls back and kisses me on the lips. “I love you, too.”

The tears are ready to pour out again when I turn to Keller. He pulls me to his chest and slides his arms under my unzipped coat. His hands slide under my T-shirt at my lower back. He rubs circles slowly over my bare skin. Instantly I feel a little calmer. I close my eyes and tuck my head into his neck. His lips are at my ear, tickling it beneath my hair. “Call me when you land, babe.”

“I will.”

He kisses my ear once and whispers, “I love you more than you could possibly imagine.”

I pull back and kiss him once. His lips are soft and welcoming. He cups his hand at the nape of my neck and pulls me back in for two more before resting his forehead against mine. “My imagination is endless,” I say. There are tears in both our eyes now. His shirt is clenched in both of my hands. God, I don’t want to let go.

“Good. So is my love.” He smiles and it’s the happiest, saddest smile I’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t think that two distinct emotions could live inside one smile, but they can. He’s present. This moment is all that matters.

“Mine too. I love you, baby.”

His eyes are closed. “One more time,” he whispers.

“I love you, baby,” I whisper back.

Stella is standing next to Gus again, tugging on the front of his T-shirt. “Gus you need to give Kate a piggyback ride. Not 'cause she’s sleepy. Just for fun.”

Gus ruffles Stella’s hair. “Well, good thing I’m all about fun, kiddo.” He turns and squats. “All aboard, Bright Side.”

I climb on and Keller hands Gus my suitcase. “Thanks, man.”

Gus waves as he takes a few steps backward down the corridor toward security. “Anytime, dude. Anytime.”

When Gus turns my back is to Keller and Stella so I turn my head and watch them fade away. The three of us wave at each other until Gus turns the corner, and they’re gone.

(Kate)

I Skype with Keller and Stella every morning and every night. And because classes don’t start up again for another week for him, we also talk several times on the phone throughout the day when he isn’t at work and when I’m not sleeping.

I’m sleeping a lot now. The nurse Audrey hired, Tammy, says that her job is to keep me comfortable. And for me, comfort takes the form of oxycodone. Since I’m fond of not being in excruciating pain, it works out. Being hooked up to oxygen has helped too. Breathing was becoming a real struggle, now it’s a breeze. Turns out that my body loves an adequate amount of oxygen. This nasal cannula is my new favorite thing.

Gus was supposed to go back out on the road last week, Europe. He refused to go. Their tour manager is pissed. Gus has started calling him Fucking Hitler. The rest of the band is standing behind Gus, so there’s not much that can be done except reschedule the shows. I feel guilty that he’s postponing his life, but I’m happy that he’s here with me.

He spends every minute of every day and every night in this room with me. He’s constant, comforting company. We listen to music, or play cards (yes, I cheat—he lets me), or just talk (there’s a lot of reminiscing). And almost every day Franco, Robbie, or Jamie stops by to visit, too. Sometimes they stay for a few minutes; sometimes they stay for an hour. It just depends on how long I can stay awake.

Tammy
even lets Gus take me outside onto the deck for some fresh air once a day. He carries me and rolls the carts of all of my new accessories (IV meds and oxygen) out with us. Walking is impossible for me now. Going to the bathroom is even a thing of the past, which I’m really unhappy about. Catheters suck. And pee bags are just gross.

Audrey got home from work about an hour ago. She’s been working from home, but every other day she goes into her office for an hour or two. She’s got a business to run on top of my mess. I don’t know how she does it.

She’s knocking on the door now with a coffee cup in hand, just like she does every day at this time. “Hi sweetie. How’re you doing?”

I smile, because I can’t do anything else when I look at Audrey these days. I always thought she was an angel, and there’s no doubt about it now. “Fabulous.”

She returns the smile and kisses me on the forehead. “Glad to hear it,” she says, before handing me a cup of vegetable broth. “Dinner is served.” She looks at Gus. “Gus, honey, I made you something to eat, too. It’s in the kitchen.”

Gus pats the side of the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He doesn’t like to eat in front of me since I can’t really eat anymore, so he eats in the kitchen by himself. I swear he inhales his food, because he’s gone five minutes, tops.

“Take your time, Gus. I need to talk to Kate for a few minutes.” Her tone is gentle but firm.

He nods and looks at me, raising his eyebrows. “Dude, I think you’re in trouble.”

I laugh. The past few weeks have been easy between us again. Gus looks exhausted and I know he’s not sleeping much, but his sense of humor is back. I love that. He’s let go of some of the stress. And as for me, I feel like a calm stillness has settled over me. I’m as comfortable as I can be, and I feel content. Peaceful, even, in a way I never have before. Maybe it’s the Xanax that Tammy’s added to my IV cocktail. I insisted that I didn’t need it (I haven’t had any issues with anxiety since the panic attack in Grant last month) and although she acknowledged my feelings, she said it might make me more comfortable. I’m all about comfort these days, so I gave it a try. Drugs or not, I’m good. I’m good.

Audrey sits on the edge of my bed next to me and rubs my forearm just like she did when I was small and she was trying to sooth me. She smiles. “You’re looking better this afternoon. You have some color in your cheeks.”

“I feel good today, Audrey. I’m glad it shows. How are
you
doing?”

“I’m well, sweetheart.” She kisses me on the forehead again. “Don’t you worry about me.”

But I do. I worry about all of them. This must be draining them. “What’s up? Am I in trouble?”

She laughs. “No. There are a few things I need to discuss with you. I don’t think we can put them off any longer. I’m sorry to have to be the one to bring all of this up, but it’s my job as a mother to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Thank you. So what do we need to talk about?”

She sets the papers she’s holding on the nightstand. “You drink your broth. I’ll talk.”

“Okay.” I do as she says, even though I’m getting really tired of vegetable broth. It’s the only thing I can stomach these days.

“You already gave me power of attorney, so I’ll make sure all of your financial affairs are attended to. The deductible on your health insurance is very low. Last year’s deductible was satisfied and you paid everything in full. This year’s bills will be minimal, after your deductible is met everything’s paid one hundred percent. You have enough in your savings to cover it. What other bills do you have?”

I don’t want to share this with Audrey, because I know she’s going to be hurt that I didn’t come to her months ago with it, but it’s my responsibility. “Just Gracie’s burial costs. I’m on a monthly payment plan. The balance is around two thousand dollars. I don’t know if I’ll have enough money left after the medical bills to pay for it.”

She blinks as if she’s confused. “I thought you said Grace’s funeral was paid for. That you had some money left over from the sale of Janice’s home?”

I can’t look at her. “I lied.”

“Oh Kate, why didn’t you say something? I would have been more than happy to cover that.”

I’m still looking at the bedspread instead of her. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you. Gracie was my responsibility. She was my sister. It was my job.”

She shakes her head. “Well, don’t you worry about that. It will be taken care of.” It’s final. “What else?”

“Other than my cell phone, nothing. My car insurance is paid through April.”

“Okay. That brings us to the next item on my list. Your will.” She holds my gaze and tears are filling her eyes. “I’m sorry, Kate. This is hard.”

I pat her leg. “It’s okay, Audrey. I don’t know that a will is necessary though. I don’t really have anything. I gave my car to Keller, though he’s still fighting me on it. And I want Gus to have my violin, my laptop, and the music I’ve written. That about covers it.”

She clears her throat. “Not exactly. There’s something you don’t know about.”

I prop myself up in bed, because she has on her concerned, protective mama bear face. “I spoke to your father last month.”

“You what?” I intend for it to come out much louder than it does, but I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me.

“Years ago I got his name, address, and phone number from Janice in case I ever needed to contact him on your or Grace’s behalf. I’ve called him only three times: once when Janice died, once when Grace died, and last month when I learned of your illness.”

I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but it feels like someone else’s voice. “What did he say?”

She tilts her head and her eyes soften. I bet she’s trying to figure out how to tell me he’s a heartless bastard. “With Janice he seemed indifferent. The news was received with silence and a thank you for letting him know. With Grace, he seemed sad. I gave him the funeral details. He sent flowers.”

“I never saw them. There wasn’t a card with his name on it.” I’m shocked.

She shakes her head, apologizing. “He sent them anonymously. It was a large bouquet of carnations.”

I laugh humorlessly. “That’s fitting, Gracie hated carnations. She called them smelly, old lady flowers. She liked tulips. Yellow tulips.”

Audrey’s lips tip up into a smile. “I know.”

I’m nervous now. The next phone call was about me. “What did he say about me?”

“Kate, you are such a wonderful person. Your father’s approval or involvement has never mattered—”

“Just tell me, Audrey.”

She sighs. “He said the news was regretful. He said he was sorry he’d never known you. I offered to set up a meeting, to fly him over from England. He refused. I’m sorry, honey.”

I don’t remember my father, so I’ve never really missed him. Until now. Now, I feel cheated. I feel pissed off that he chose another family over us. I clench my teeth and mutter, “He’s a bastard, isn’t he Audrey?”

“I think that’s a good name for him, yes. In fact, I could think of a few others I prefer, but bastard will do.” Audrey rarely curses. She’s mad.

I’d laugh if I wasn’t fuming.

She reaches for an envelope on the nightstand. “He did send you this. I opened it already. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything that would upset you.”

I take the envelope, and my hands are shaking. I’ve gone from angry to scared in a split second. I part the top of the already opened envelope and peer inside. There’s no letter, only a small piece of paper. I pinch it between my thumb and forefinger and slide it out slowly. “A check?”

Audrey nods.

I look at the amount. “Audrey, this is
fifty thousand dollars
.” I’ve never seen this many zeroes.

Audrey nods again.

I toss it aside on the nightstand. “Fuck him, Audrey.” I’m pissed again. I try not to use that word in front of Audrey because I know she doesn’t like it, but I can’t restrain myself. “Fuck him and his money. Send it back. Tell him I don’t want it.”

She looks stressed, but resigned. “Normally, Kate, I would agree with you. I would commend your dignity and pride and tell him to stuff it. But, I think you should accept it.”

Maybe she’s right. “You take it. I’ll sign it over to you. It will help repay you for all you’ve done for me over the years.” This isn’t my anger talking. I sincerely mean it, and she knows it.

“Oh Kate, I couldn’t accept something like that. Gus and I have never lacked financially. We’ve both been very fortunate. Maybe you know someone else who might be able to use the money?” 

It doesn’t take me long to come to a decision. I endorse the check and give Audrey specific instructions, and then I write a short thank-you note to my father.

Thomas,

Thank you for Grace. I wish you could have known her. She was the sweetest, most innocent human being.

Though your money reeks of guilt, and it’s against my better judgment to accept it, know that it will be put to good use.

Lastly, I hope you’re good to your wife and children and that you tell them you love them every day. Kids need that. Audrey Hawthorne taught me about the love of a parent to her child. She’s a wonderful woman. I’ve never felt unloved. I hope that puts your mind at ease.

Kate

After the note, and after Audrey leaves the room, I decide to talk to God, which makes me feel a little guilty because I’ve been avoiding him for a long time now.
Hey Big Man. I meant what I wrote to Thomas. I don’t know if it’s my place to ask you for this, but whatever. Here goes. Please forgive him. I really do hope that he loves his wife and kids and that they love him. Thank you for blessing me with so many people to love
.