Holly walks past Amber with a cocky grin on her beautiful face. She sits next to me on the bed, then looks at Amber. “If you’d remove that stick from your ass, maybe you would find it funny,” Holly teases, and Amber feigns shock before giggling.
“If I don’t laugh, then I cry, and I have spent far too many hours crying. I need to laugh or this cancer will swallow me whole. It’s already taken over my body, I refuse to let it take over my emotions,” I explain, my voice shaky. The emotions fight hard to take over, but I refuse. I promised my favorite boys a picnic and I’m going to do everything in my power to make it a special day. I want them to have one more good and happy memory to hang on to. I’ll push the pain and sadness away long enough to make that happen.
“Enough with all this heavy shit,” I say, humor in my voice. “What are y’all doing here anyway?”
“We came to help you get ready for your picnic. Then we thought we’d do a little cleaning for you,” Chelsie says, her voice soft, full of hesitation. All three of them watch me closely, waiting for my reaction. They know I’m OCD when it comes to cleaning my house. When I was able to, you could eat off the floor. Not that anyone would, but you could. It was just that clean. I also don’t like other people cleaning my house, hence her hesitation in telling me, but it’s different now. I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way I can clean my house now. I can’t even walk to the bathroom most days without help. Knowing the house is cleaned for my boys will give me peace of mind. I love these girls even more than I already did for taking the time to do this for me.
“Okay. Just make sure you use my cleaners. They’re in the cabinet under the sink,” I say, and cringe when I realize I sound like a bossy bitch. “It’s just that Marcus is sensitive to strong cleaner smells. The ones I have don’t bother him.” The girls all laugh at me.
“We know, babe. We have all the same brands you use,” Amber says with a giggle. I put my hands up in surrender and smile at all of them.
Amber helps me get dressed. I’m wearing a long white sundress, one Marcus always says he loves. Most of my clothes practically hang from my body these days. This dress, however, is made in a way that you can’t tell. Doing my long black hair in large curls, Holly pulls the sides back and secures it with a barrette. When that’s all done, she starts on my makeup, applying a little cover up to hide the dark circles under my eyes, mascara, and some lip gloss.
“Wow. You should do my makeup for the funeral,” I tease. Holly nods her head in approval, but Amber glares at me, her mouth gaping open.
“Really?” Amber says before turning toward the door.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I promise, no more death jokes.” I hold my arms out for her. Wrapping her arms around me, I hold her tight. “I’m sorry.” Her body shakes as she tries to hold back her sobs.
“I...just don’t want to lose you,” she mumbles into my shoulder, and my heart tightens. I hate the pain I’m inflicting on all the people I love so much. They don’t deserve this.
“I don’t want to leave either. I’d give anything in the world to stay,” I tell her, a tear slipping from my eye.
“Okay, enough. We are not redoing your makeup, bitch,” Amber says with a sniffle.
“She’s right. Dry those eyes and put on a smile. It’s time to go enjoy a day with your boys,” Holly says with a wink. I nod, wiping my eyes.
The girls help me into the kitchen where Marcus and Chase are waiting. They both turn and whistle at the same time. The large smile that crosses my face can’t be helped. Pure love is shining in their eyes and it causes butterflies to flutter in my belly. I love these two more than anything. How am I going to say goodbye to them? And when I do, will they be able to deal with it?
“Remember, happy. No sad today,” Holly whispers in my ear, and I nod. She’s right. Today is happy—no tears, only smiles.
The drive to the lake is brutal. Every little bump in the road causes me pain. I try to put on a brave face and hide it, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job. Every now and then, Marcus glances at me with a concerned look on his face. Each time, I put on my brightest smile and pray he can’t see through it. If he finds out just how much pain I’m in, he’ll turn around and take me home. I don’t want that. I need this. I need a good day where the three of us aren’t consumed with my damn cancer.
Marcus parks the car. “Chase and I will set up the blanket, then we’ll come back to get you, okay?” he instructs. I nod and give him a smile. As soon as they are out of the car, I start to rummage through my purse. Thank God I thought to put my bottle of pain pills in here before we left. I quickly open the bottle and pop one in my mouth.
Please let this kick in fast
, I say to myself. A few minutes later, Chase is opening my door.
“We’re ready, Momma,” he says, his voice filled with excitement. I smile and put my hand in his. My boy helps me out of the car. “I can do it, Daddy. I’m a big boy now,” Chase says when Marcus tries to help steady me. It takes all the strength I have to hold myself up so my boy can help me. My knees shake and my lungs are fighting for air by the time we reach the blanket. Luckily, Marcus is there to help me to the ground. He sits behind me.
“Are you okay, sweetness?” he asks, his mouth right at my ear. I nod and lean back against his chest.
“I’m perfect,” I whisper, and I am. The lake is breathtaking today. The sky is bright blue. The temperature is a little warm, but the gentle breeze keeps it comfortable. Chase reaches into the picnic basket and hands me a sandwich.
“Here, Momma. I made this one for you all by myself,” he states proudly. The thought of food makes me queasy. For the last few weeks, I’ve had no appetite. Nothing tastes the way it used to and the slightest smells cause my stomach to churn. Chewing tires me out and makes my mouth sore, so bland and mushy is all I can stomach these days. I refuse to disappoint him, though. “It’s your favorite kind.” His pewter gray eyes, the ones that remind me so much of his dad’s, sparkle with excitement. I glance to Marcus and he winks at me. The crooked smile on his face tells me he has something up his sleeve. He looks down at the sandwich and nods, encouraging me to take a bite. Once I remove it from its Ziploc bag, Chase begins to bounce on his knees. He’s so excited by the fact that he did this for me all by himself. My little man is growing up.
The wind blows the scent of bananas and peanut butter my way and the strong odor causes me to gag. Quickly, I cover it up with a cough. As I bring the sandwich closer to my mouth, my eyes wander to Marcus’ again. “Just one little bite, babe,” he mouths, and I take the smallest of bites, surprised I can make out the taste. I used to make these sandwiches for Chase and I all the time. Marcus, however, thinks they are disgusting.
Chase’s eyes are trained on me until he sees that I’ve swallowed my bite. “Did I do good? Is it like the ones you make?” he asks, concern seeping through. I give him my biggest smile and pull him to my lap.
“It is so good. Even better than the ones I make,” I assure him. His eyes widen in shock, then he kisses my cheek. Hopping out of my lap, he grabs his little fishing pole.
“I’m gonna go fish.” And with that, he’s jogging to the edge of the lake. Thank God for short attention spans. Marcus takes the sandwich from my hands and wraps it back in the plastic bag.
“You doing okay, sweetness?” he asks, running his strong hand along my frail leg. To anyone else, he looks happy. But I can see deeper. I see the pain and anger in his eyes. I hear the sadness in his voice. I feel the desperation in his touch. It kills me that I’m the cause of it all. I can’t stop it; I’ve taken the light from his eyes and blown it out like a candle.
“I’m doing pretty good. Better than I thought I would,” I lie, and I hate the fact that I’m lying to him, but they have been looking forward to this outing. I’m not ruining this for them, too. I’m strong and can push through the pain just this once. Marcus cocks his head to the side. He knows I’m not telling him the truth, but he doesn’t call me out on it.
“Please just tell me if it gets to be too much,” he pleads, and I nod my head in agreement.
For the last hour, I’ve been lying on a blanket watching my two favorite people fish, fighting to keep my eyes open the entire time after taking another pill for the pain. Chase has gotten pretty damn good at it in the last year. When he first started, Chase was too afraid to touch the slimy things so Marcus had to take the fish off the hook. I giggle to myself at the memory. Now…he takes that fish off like a pro, but Marcus still can’t get him to take the fish home to eat. He always takes the fish off the hook and places them back in the water while waving goodbye. Our boy is so sweet, gentle, and loving, I pray he’ll grow up to be the same way.
“Look, Mommy! Look!” Chase yells, holding up a huge fish—probably the biggest one he’s ever caught. He’s jumping up and down, unable to contain his excitement.
“That is one big fish, buddy,” I yell back, giving him a thumbs up. Chase places the fish back in the water and waves goodbye. Marcus picks him up and twirls him around in circles. The sound of their laughter fills my ears and warms my heart. This has been an amazing day. It feels so good to have a normal day—the kind of days we used to have.
Just before sunset, I’m in more pain than I can handle. Chase is off playing with some trucks in a small pile of sand near the water’s edge. Marcus is sitting behind me and begins to rub my arms. His touch causes me to jump, the simple contact sending pain radiating through my arms. I bite my lip, trying to stifle my whimper, but it’s useless. The pain is too much. Marcus immediately removes his hands and scoots around to face me.
“Sweetness? Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of worry. There’s fear in his eyes and it saddens and angers me all at once. There are so many things I miss since I became sick, but nothing compares to the longing I have for Marcus’ touch and the connection we share. He’s been amazing every step of the way. I can see the need and want in his eyes, though he’ll never push or blame me—more pain or stress is the last thing he’d ever want to lay on me—but he has needs and wants. He’s a man, after all. The guilt I feel for denying him those wants and needs is unbearable.
“I’m ready to go home, babe. I’m in a lot of pain,” I tell him. The look on his face is hard to discern. It’s a mixture of worry and concern, but there’s also anger there. He’s not angry at me for needing to go; it’s the fucking cancer. I’m pissed, too. We were having such a good time. Poor Chase will be disappointed that we have to leave.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you out this long,” he says as he stands. I just wanted one good day—one more good fucking day before I’m gone. Why can’t I have that? Why? I shake my head.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. Is it too much to ask that I have one day of being whole? One day with no pain. One last chance to make a wonderful memory for you and Chase to hold on to? I don’t want the last memories you both have of me as being weak and sick,” I say, harsher than I intended.
“We had a great day. Look at the smile on our boy’s face. He will remember today. I promise you that. Now, let’s get you home.” He gently kisses my cheek. I nod, still not convinced I accomplished what I wanted from today. Marcus bends down and starts to place his hands under my arms, but then quickly pulls them away, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, sweetness. I’m afraid to touch you,” he whispers, and I swear I can feel my heart shatter. Tears fill my eyes and I don’t fight them. I allow them to roll down my cheeks.
“I know, but it’s gonna hurt either way,” I tell him with a shaky voice. There’s so much more behind that sentence than just getting my ass off this ground.