Holding On (Hooking Up) (17 page)

He wasn’t the only one who desperately wanted what once was. I longed for Mom’s company, the fun we had when we went shopping, and the many meals we shared where we exchanged confidences and laughed for hours. But every time I thought of the times we shared, a stab of pain hit my heart that she couldn’t share with me her most important secret. As a result, our time at home was strained. She tried, and so did I, but there was too much between us to for our relationship to ever be the same.

The day before Christmas, I was met with organized confusion as I entered our house from a doctor’s appointment. I was going weekly now, and even though Ryan wanted to go, Benjie gave us such a hard time when we took him, it was easier for Ryan to stay home with him. Mom was too weak to watch him herself and Isamu was busy with a new batch of pupils and an upcoming karate tournament.

I put my coat in the closet and slipped off my boots, frowning as I heard the ruckus coming from the living room. I walked in and smiled at the sight of the living room, fully furnished at last, down to pictures on the wall and flowers in vases. Ryan and Benjie were struggling to move a huge antique chest I’d picked up at a yard sale. Christmas music was blaring and they were singing along at the top of their lungs.

“Watch it, little man. I got it,” Ryan told him, ruffling Benjie’s hair and gently moving him out of the doorway that led to the breakfast nook. “Thanks for your help. That was heavy.”

“What’s going on in here?” I shouted above the din. They glanced at me and smiled.

“Hi, honey,” Mom called from her spot on the recliner.

Ryan smiled and came over to enfold me in a hug. “We wanted to give you a proper homecoming. It’s almost Christmas and I had a feeling you’d want things put in some sort of order before Santa and the baby came. And Benjie needed this too. Some semblance of normalcy, you know?”

“It’s wonderful. Thank you so much.” I was touched by his thoughtfulness and struck anew with love. He’d actually picked up on my need to nest before I had. What a wonderful man.  “What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing. Just hang out. We’ve got this. No heavy lifting for you, remember?”

“I’m pregnant, not sick, remember?” I admonished him and smiled. Then what I said struck me and I regretted my choice of words. I’d almost forgotten for a moment that my mom was sick, that this would be, most likely, her last Christmas. The smile left my face and Ryan pulled me closer.

“Honey, life has to go on. We have Benjie and the baby to think of. She’s sick, but she’s still with us. Let’s thank God for that and enjoy what we have while we have it, ok? She doesn’t want you to be so upset. She’s so happy we’ve got this place and we’re finally settled. Let her see you happy. Let her think about how much we wanted this place and how she helped us get it.”

I smiled wistfully. “You sound like her and Isamu.”

“That’s a huge compliment. Thank you,” he said, giving me a tender kiss.

“Cut it out, Daddy. We’ve gotta get this stuff done so Santa comes.” He scowled up at us with an adorable expression on his face and added, “And the baby, too, I guess.”

“Thanks, my buddy. I love you.” I reached down to hug him.

“Love you, too, Catie.”

That would have to do for now, and I was surprised to feel my mood lighten as my men nested for me. It really was enough.

Chapter 20

In the blink of an eye, it was Christmas, and Mom and I exchanged olive branches and tried desperately to make things seem normal. There was a peace that seemed to settle over the house, which, thanks to Benjie and Ryan, was finally completely unpacked and settled. They had worked wonders on the mountains of boxes and now our house looked like something out of a Dickens novel. Swags of pine decorated our banister, wreaths hung from every window and door, and the glow of candles shone brightly, welcoming visitors who wished to carol or eat, drink and be merry.

My ankles were swollen to the size of elephant legs, so my doctor cautioned me to avoid doing much of anything and essentially placed me on bed rest. I was so large now that everything was a chore, so it was a relief to relegate myself to the sofa and stay there with Mom while Ryan and Benjie went to the Christmas tree farm and found the biggest tree they could find. The thing had to be ten feet tall and fourteen feet around. When they dragged it inside, I had to laugh. I had a feeling I knew who was responsible for such a behemoth.

“Catie, do you see our tree? Daddy let me pick it out!” Benjie bounded over and rubbed my head with his gloved hand. “Hey, baby? Do you see it?” he asked my distended belly. The baby kicked and I laughed.

“I think he likes it, Benj.”

“Grammy, do you like it?” Benjie looked Mom in the face and gently patted her leg. It hurt, I could tell, but she hid her wince and rasped gaily, “It’s beautiful. The best tree I’ve ever seen, sweetie.”

It took up a majority of our living room. We let it settle a bit and as it warmed up, the branches relaxed and looked even fuller than they had when my men first brought it in. I wasn’t sure we had enough ornaments to fill even half of it, but Mom suggested stringing up popcorn and having Benjie color some ornaments if we needed them, an idea Ryan and I loved.

Ryan unearthed our tree trimmings from behind a bunch of empty boxes in the attic and brought them down while Benjie bounced along beside him singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of his lungs. Mom glanced at me and smiled and I smiled back. We might have still been a mess underneath all this holiday cheer, but at least we were together.

Ryan and Benjie did a passable job of decorating the tree, even though Benjie liked to put four ornaments on one branch and leave other branches completely bare. It looked a bit lopsided, but it was so sweet I insisted that it be left like it was. 

“Benjie, be careful with this one. It’s glass.” Ryan handed him a delicate glass ball and he hung it on the tree with due gravity, beaming when it stayed where he put it.

“Grammy, do you wanna hang one?” he asked her seriously, holding out a reindeer ornament in his chubby fist.

“No, thanks. I have more fun watching you, honey. You’re a great decorator.”

The smile he shot her melted us both and we sat back and enjoyed his childish enthusiasm.

Afterwards, we sat down for a late dinner of lasagna and ham, made by Ryan with Mom’s recipes. Ryan poured eggnog all around and we toasted each other with limericks we made up on the spot. Christmas music blared from our stereo and we played board games, watched Benjie act out his favorite scenes from Frosty the Snowman and laughed at his antics. He was quite the little actor.

Mom had insisted that there be no maudlin speeches or tears this Christmas and no reference to her illness, and we had honored her wishes. It was difficult, but we all struggled to make this a merry Christmas, one without stress and fear. We all needed a break from it.

Isamu came over later in the evening and brought a special gift for Benjie: a chocolate-lab puppy named Mo, son of Isamu’s dogs Eenie and Meeny, and brother of his other dog, Miney.  Benjie squealed at the sight of his new pet, and while I couldn’t quite figure out how we’d manage with me and Mom out of commission, I needn’t have worried. Mo was an intelligent puppy who had spent a lot of time being trained by Isamu in preparation for his adoption. He was adorable and smart, and even if he’d been a little puppy nightmare, I would have loved him just because of the look he put on Benjie’s face.

Despite the undercurrents that were inescapable, I’d never had a better Christmas. We were together, and that in itself was a precious gift. When we went to bed that night, my heart was full of love and happiness, and I was truly grateful for the gift I’d been given: a family to love.

Chapter 21

On December 27
^th
, the hospital called and scheduled some aggressive treatments for Mom, ones that required an indeterminate hospital stay. I drove her to the hospital myself while Benjie was at school and Ryan was at work. On the way, I tried to make some sort of small-talk, but I found it was very tough to let go of all the pain inside me. I think she realized it and made her own effort to converse freely.

“Catie, when I go into the hospital, I want you and Ryan to take Benjie someplace fun, like to a movie or an arcade or something. He needs to feel like things are alright again. I think it would be good for him. For all of you, actually.”

“What are you, a therapist now?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. It seemed like every time I spoke to her now, there was an accusatory undercurrent I couldn’t control.

“No, but I am a forty-seven year-old woman who’s learned a thing or two about life. I speak from experience.”

I laughed bitterly. “Since when did you have to take a kid’s mind off his grandmother’s illness?”

“Not a kid. Myself. My mom died of breast cancer three years ago.”

“Oh, god. I’m sorry,” I said, gulping once as the now-familiar tears spurted out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I was so tired of wiping away tears.

“Stop the car, ok? I want to talk to you.”

I pulled over next to a small park that had some wooden benches situated next to green copper statues of various men who were important to the city for various things. I turned to face her and said, “What do you want to talk about?”

“No, let’s go sit. It’s a nice day.”

“It’s twenty degrees and the benches are covered in snow.”

“Humor me. I haven’t had too many chances to enjoy snow, growing up in Florida. I want to experience everything I can.”

I eyed her dubiously, but agreed and escorted my mom, who seemed so much more frail than she did even two weeks ago, to a nearby bench. She was panting from the exertion by the time we’d settled onto the bench, but she looked around and smiled gamely. “This is nice.”

“And cold. This can’t be good for you.”

“Catie, it’s not like it’s going to do anything worse to me than the cancer has.”

I quailed a bit at the C word. I hated it. I wished I could erase it from the dictionary, ban it from our household, simply forget I ever heard it.

“Honey, you’ve got to accept it. I’m dying. All the treatment in the world isn’t going to change that.”

I shook my head and insisted, “There’s hope. There has to be. You have to have a positive attitude. That goes a long way toward the healing process.”

“Not always. Honey, I thought positive a year and a half ago when I found out I had cancer. I thought positive the first time I went in for surgery to remove the tumors they found. I thought positive when I went through chemo and radiation the first time. But all the positive thinking in the world isn’t going to change this.”

“Then why go through the treatments? Why put yourself through it?”

“Because I made you a promise. I told you I’d hang on as long as I could. I’m going down swinging, Catie. For you. I waited so long to come and see you, and I regret not doing it sooner. But I thought I had more time. We always think we have more time, until we don’t. Then we spend the rest of what we have thinking about what we should have done, back when we had the time.”

“I’m just not ready to let you go, Mom. I just found you. I wanted longer, and I hate myself for being so selfish.”

“Not selfish. Never. You’re a wonderful woman, and I’m glad I got to know you when I did. You’re an amazing mother to Benjie, and I know you’ll be a wonderful mother to the new baby. And it makes me feel good to know that even if I didn’t raise you myself, you still came out right. You’re the legacy I’m leaving to the world, and if I do say so myself, my finest achievement.”

“Mom, I love you so much. I can’t bear to lose you. I just can’t. I need you.” I gathered her close and sobbed into her winter coat. Her body felt so small and fragile under the thick down, and it hit me again just how sick she really was.

“You need me less than you know. You’ll be fine, and I know it. I’m at peace. But I know you’re not. You need to come to terms with it. You have to try.”

“I know. But I don’t think I can.”

“You are stronger than you think. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. And speaking of that, I had a will drawn up. I have two bank accounts up here at Lyon Bank, and you’re the beneficiary for both. When I found out that I was terminal, I contacted my life insurance carrier and they allowed me to take out the face value of my policy to settle my affairs. I used some of the money, but the bulk of it is still there, and it will be more than enough to pay any of my final expenses, like what the health insurance didn’t cover.”

Suddenly I knew where the money for the down-payment on the new house came from. “You used your life insurance on my house, didn’t you?  That was the wise investment you kept talking about,” I said slowly, unsure of how I felt. It seemed so wrong to start my future with her desinence. I didn’t know what else to say.

“Yes, it was. I wanted to make sure you got that money, and that you’d do something positive with it. I know you, Catie, and I know you would have just let it sit there if I didn’t step in and offer the money for the house. I wanted you to have something good, something you could build a life with. And a way to remember me. I’m sorry if you feel like I deceived you, but I did it for the very best of reasons. Anyway,” she said briskly, “come on, I’m cold now and we’ve got to get to the hospital.”

“Mom? Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“No apologies are necessary. Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

“Now you sound like Isamu. He likes to quote proverbs.”

When we got to the hospital, we checked her in and I made sure she was comfortable before I left. The treatments were scheduled to begin the following morning, and I wanted her to rest and save her strength for the ordeal that was yet to come. Our interlude in the park seemed to have drained her and I regretted allowing her to sit there in the park in the cold.

On my own now, with two hours before I had to be home for Benjie, I went to Isamu’s dojo.  I felt cold and numb, yet filled with unbearable pain. The baby kicked me continually, as if he or she was also feeling the strain, and the only place I could think of to go for some comfort was to Isamu’s place.