My Skylar (10 page)

throbbing, and it felt like she was far away even though her hands were still in mine.

“Stage three…”

“They said I have to have chemo and maybe radiation…”

“I’m going to lose my hair, Mitch. I’m so scared.”

My head felt like it was going to explode, and my heart was slamming against my chest. I

needed air.

“We need to get out of here.” I led her out of the theater into the parking lot. It was freezing

out, and I could see my breath. I suddenly stopped walking, turned to her and frantically fastened

each button of her coat. “It’s cold.”

She must have seen that I was losing it. She clasped my hands to stop me from fumbling for

more buttons when there weren’t any left. “Mitch?”

I looked into her eyes, shook my head in disbelief then pulled her into me, holding onto her for

dear life. We stayed there in the middle of the parking lot for minutes on end. My nose was in her

hair, smelling every inch of it, thinking about what she had told me, that she was going to lose all of it. This didn’t seem real. My eyes started to sting.

You will not cry. She’s fine. She’s in your arms.

It felt like a dream I couldn’t wake up from.

When we returned to the car, we sat and let it idle with the heat on. A Great Big World’s
Say

Something
came on the radio. That song is depressing under normal circumstances, and I

couldn’t bear to hear it, so I shut it off.

I stared blankly at a swarm of people who just converged upon the parking lot, their distant

laughter piercing me like a knife. Her hand was in mine, and I rubbed over it gently with my

thumb. A million thoughts went through my head, but they all led to the same conclusion: I had

to be strong for her. I had to take care of her.

Skylar broke my trance. “There’s one more thing.”

My body tensed.
What else could there possibly be?

She continued, “My parents discussed it, and they decided that it’s best if I get treated in New

York. My mother would lose her job if she had to take me to appointments and everything here.

She can’t afford that, and we would lose the house. Because Oliver works from home and makes

his own hours, they think it’s better if I live with him and Lizete. He’ll take care of me while I’m undergoing chemo. Mom will come out every weekend.”

“That’s three hours away.”

“I know, but it’s the only way that makes sense.”

My eyeballs moved from side to side trying to think of a solution, anything that could stop her

from leaving. “Stay here. I’ll take you to your appointments. I’ll take care of you.”

“How can you do that with school?”

“I’ll fucking drop out. Nothing is more important than you.”

“I would never let you do that.
Never.
That’s not an option. I wouldn’t be able to live with that guilt.”

I wouldn’t be able to live without…you.

“Well, thinking about you going through all that so far away from me where I can’t be there for

you…is not an option for
me
.”

“It’ll be okay. This isn’t up for negotiation. It has to be this way.”

Her body shook from the cold, so I blasted the heat.

The reality of the fact that I wouldn’t be able to stop her from leaving set in. “I’m coming to

Brooklyn every weekend, then. When does it all start?”

“A week from tomorrow.”

No.

***

what we said to each other before I ended up standing alone in the middle of our quiet street. It

was freezing, and my toes felt numb from the hard snow crunching under my feet.

Lacking even the energy to open my front door, I looked up at the dark sky with an anger I’d

never experienced before, wondering how God could have allowed this to happen to her.

I willed the frigid air to take the pain away.
Please.

When I finally walked into the house, my mother immediately lowered the volume on the

evening news, the look of concern on her face revealing that she knew exactly what had happened

tonight.

I was too exhausted to speak any louder than a whisper. “You knew?”

She looked at me with tears in her eyes but didn’t say anything.

I repeated, “Mom? You
knew
about this?”

“Only for a couple of days. She wanted to tell you herself, Mitch. She had every right to do

that.”

It felt like my head was burning up. Suddenly, I screamed at the top of my lungs. “How the

fuck could you keep this from me?”

“I’m sorry. I promised Tish!”

I’d never spoken like that to my mother before and immediately regretted it. “I need to be

alone.” I stormed past her, and she pretended not to notice as I opened the liquor cabinet and

took a small bottle of vodka to my room.

It was going to be a long road ahead, and alcohol wouldn’t solve it, but for one night, I just

needed to forget.

***

every single minute of this week count. I wanted to take her to all her favorite places like the

Cheesecake Factory and the butterfly museum. She refused all of it, saying she wanted to just

spend time hanging out at home with me.

Two of the days, Davey and Angie joined us for dinner at Skylar’s house. Our moms cooked up

all of her favorites: homemade pizza, sloppy joes and fettuccini Alfredo. It was like a party every night, but Skylar barely touched any of the food.

We were all putting on a brave face, trying to act as normal as possible: Davey with his crude

jokes and Angie taking photos.

On the final night before Skylar had to leave, Angie was being particularly annoying with the

camera, telling us to pose, which she normally didn’t do. I had pulled her aside and asked as

politely as possible if she could lay off the clicking for one night. She told me Skylar had

specifically requested she bring the camera tonight and take pictures of all of us, particularly of her and me. That was unlike Skylar to want her picture taken.

For the rest of that evening, I kept obsessing about what Angie told me until I came to a

conclusion that I just couldn’t accept: Skylar wanted her picture taken because she thought there

was a chance she wouldn’t be coming back.

My chest tightened in agony, and I filled with a silent rage, having to excuse myself to the

bathroom. She couldn’t possibly make it through the next few months if that was what she was

thinking. I needed to talk to her.

At one point, she said she had to go upstairs to get something. When she didn’t come back

down right away, I followed her.

She jumped when I startled her as I entered the bedroom. My heart fell when I noticed tears in

her eyes. She had come up here to cry alone.

I ran over to the bed and held her in my arms. My eyes were watering, but I fought like hell to

keep the tears from falling.

Do your job, Mitch. Be her rock.

“Listen to me, Skylar. You need to keep your head up no matter how hard it gets. There’s power

in positive thinking. If the two of us do it, that’s double the power. You have to believe that

everything is going to be okay. I mean, you have to truly
believe
it, and it will happen.”

She wiped her red eyes on my shirt. “What if you’re wrong? What if I never come home?”

“Questions that begin with ‘what if’ are based on fear, nothing else. You’re scared, but you have

to have faith that God won’t let that happen.”

“How do you know there’s a God?”

I knew how I wanted to answer that but stopped to think about the best way to explain it to

her. “Because once, when I was a little boy, I felt hopeless, like my world was ending. I prayed

hard one night and asked him to send me a sign that he was listening.”

“What happened?”

“The very next day, I met you for the first time.”

I knew she could see the tears now burning my eyes, but I still wouldn’t let them fall. She gave

me a chaste kiss on the lips and said, “And he sent
you
to me.”

I grabbed her face. “He can’t take you away from me because our story’s not finished.”

She put her forehead on mine. “To be continued.”

“To be continued,” I said over her lips.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything.”

“Can you tell Davey and Angie I’m very sorry but that I just want to be alone for the rest of the

night?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, when they’re gone, come back. Spend the night with me.”

I looked at her in disbelief. “What?”

“Not like that. I just want you to sleep next to me tonight. I don’t want to be alone. Please.”

“Of course, I will. My mother would be okay with it, I think, but I don’t see Tish allowing it.”

“I’ll talk to her. After they leave, just go home, get your pajamas and come back.”

I ran my hand through her hair, tucking some strands behind her ear. “Okay.”

***

would have never allowed me to sleep in her daughter’s room under any other circumstances. So, I

had to make sure Skylar had cleared it with her. “Are you sure this is okay?”

She took a sip of her wine and nodded. “I trust you.”

My chest tightened, unsure I could even trust
myself
100-percent. “Thank you.”

Before I turned to go upstairs, for the first time, Tish cried in front of me. “I’ve tried everything, Mitch, tried everything to make her smile this week, to keep her hopes up. All she wants is you.

She needs to feel safe tonight. I know you need that, too. This has been tough for you, too. That

being said, I know you won’t do anything stupid.” I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a warning.

With that, she watched me walk up to her daughter’s room, trusting that I wouldn’t take

advantage of the rare opportunity gifted to us.

There was one small lamp on, and Skylar had been reading a book. Except for a poster on her

closet door of one of those stupid boy bands that was a few years old, her room wasn’t girly at all.

It was mostly gray and white, no muss, no fuss and classy just like she was.

She placed her book on the nightstand when she noticed me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I walked toward the bed unsure whether I was supposed to just plant myself under the

covers. I decided to hold my horses and sat at the edge. She was wearing a pink, cotton sleep shirt.

She grinned. “I told you this would be okay.”

“I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting your mother to go for this.”

“You’d be surprised what you can get away with when you have cancer.”

She was being funny, but anytime the C word was spoken aloud, I felt sick.

I tried to make a joke. “Wanna go rob a Dairy Queen, then?”

She laughed. “I like your pajamas.”

I had worn plaid, flannel bottoms and a t-shirt that Davey gave me for Christmas last year that

said,
Tell Your Boobs To Stop Staring at My Eyes.
I suppose it would have been funnier if I weren’t
actually
trying to figure out whether or not she was wearing a bra. I scolded myself for even thinking about that at a time like this, but I couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful.

I hadn’t moved from my spot. “It feels weird being able to sleep here. I almost don’t even know

what to do with myself.”

“You can start by getting under the covers with me.” She pulled her blankets off, and I crawled

in next to her, resting my head on her shoulder. She smelled like shampoo and freshly-showered

skin. There was no place in the world I’d have rather been.

“This feels nice,” I said into the crook of her arm. “What were you reading?”

She giggled. “Just trying to get my mind off of things. You don’t really want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Trust me…you don’t.”

“Now, I
really
want to know.”

“Okay, then.” She reached over to her nightstand and handed me a paperback that had a

shirtless guy on the cover. There was a blindfolded woman wrapped around his torso.

Well, shit.

“Skylar Seymour…does your mother know you read this stuff?”

She grinned impishly. “I stole it from her room.”

“You’re a bad girl. It says right here on the back that it’s not suitable for people under the age

of 18.”

She snatched it from me. “I’m almost 16, same difference.”

“Not exactly, but I won’t tell. Actually, I kind of like it.”

“Like you don’t have stuff that’s worse than this lying around?”

“No comment.”

“That’s what I thought.”

We both laughed then fell into a comfortable silence before she abruptly shut the lamp off and

lay down on her left side, facing away from me.

I turned in her direction and wrapped her in my arms, breathing against her back. I was tense,

afraid of getting a hard-on, which I knew was inevitable. My heart started to race, filled with so

many emotions. Going against my own advice to her, I became filled with worry, scared for

tomorrow, albeit immeasurably grateful for tonight. On top of all those emotions, my cock

twitched, which really couldn’t be helped as long as her body was against mine.

After a few minutes, she turned around, and our faces were just inches apart. “I could feel your

heartbeat. What were you thinking about?” she whispered.

“Don’t you always
know
what I’m thinking?”

She tapped my head. “There’s too much going on in there tonight to figure it out. My signals

are crossed.” She put my hand over her chest. “Feel mine.”