120 days... (14 page)

Patty was still coherent when she arrived, but it hadn’t lasted long. After that, she’d slipped in and out of consciousness, sometimes her body convulsing from the pain, other times she’d lay so still they had to check the machines to see if she had passed.

When Ethan had said he wanted to help her, she wasn’t sure if it was going to be a good idea to have him there. She knew the connection between Patty, Ethan and Evan. Death was never easy, and Patty’s would be hard for him, but she was surprised at how well he was doing. She noticed he always seemed to pick things up quickly, and that night was no exception. He was there getting anything anyone needed, lending his quiet support.

He was the first one there with cool water for Sam, so she could bathe Patty’s face if she was hot, and the first to offer a blanket, which had been warmed, if Patty started to shake from the cold. She had to admit, he was helpful, especially since she was so exhausted.

Sadly, Sam had been through so many of these. She knew when it was almost time. Leaning in close, she whispered in Patty’s ear. “It’s time, lovely lady. Let go and spread those wings. It’s time for you to fly.” She kissed her cheek. “Godspeed.”

Ethan came up behind her and placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, gently rubbing it and leaned down to be closer to Patty. “Hey, you think they’ll have skydiving in Heaven?” His chuckle came out sounding off. “Can you . . . can you say hi to Evan for me?” He took a deep breath and squeezed her shoulder harder.

It didn’t take long before Patty took her last breath. Ethan stayed with Sam while she waited for the coroner to come. When they walked out into the cold night air, it seemed natural they both should head up to her house together, hand in hand.

Day 21

Ethan–

Some of us were talking today and we all realized none of us have gotten falling down drunk since right after we were diagnosed, some haven’t even way before that. Sam’s hooking us up with some good stuff, and has even organized designated drivers for those in the wheelchairs. We’re going to tie one on tonight.

Wish me luck.

Evan

“To Patty.” Sam lifted her glass of scotch high and clinked it to Ethan’s.

“To Patty.” He took a long, thoughtful drink. “Did you know I talked to Patty?” Ethan slurred as he waved his glass of scotch toward Sam. “I did. She knew my brother. . . . Yeah . . . he died too . . .”

Sam’s head tilted to the side and she closed one eye to look at him, her vision blurring due to the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. “One-hundred-and- fifteen days, that’s how long she was here, just under average. She would have hated that, being considered anything average.”

“It’s not going to be the same, going to the field, to jump out of a plane.” He looked up. “I’m going to expect to hear her laugh as she gets closer to the ground. Did you know she was always laughing? Every single jump, she was so happy.”

“She was.” Sam couldn’t hold back anymore and the tears started flowing as she paid her respects to Patty. “Sorry . . . I always . . . do this . . .” She hiccupped. “Cry, thirty minutes, no more, no less. Get it out, move on.”

“How can you do that?”

“Practice.” She swayed. “I can’t do more. It breaks me too much.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to sync up his swaying to hers. “Then why?”

“Because . . . they deserve more . . . more than pity . . . more than dying in some clinical setting . . . more than . . . so much more.”

“Doesn’t it hurt all the time?”

“Oh, it kills me. Every. Single. Time. Every. Day.”

“How long can you do this?”

“As long as I’m allowed to.”

“Huh?”

She tried to point to the ceiling. “It’s not in my hands how long. He has a plan. I try to do my best.”

“Come here.” He snaked his arm around her and pulled her close to him. “You’re too far away.”

“It is a big couch.” She nodded.

“Too big.” He nuzzled her ear. “Why won’t you let me taste your lips? You fill my mind. I can’t get you out.”

“Who’s stopping you?”

“Was someone stopping me?” he asked.

“I think you were.”

“Well, why would I do that?” He tried to tilt his head and ended up falling back against the couch. “Here.” Attempting to lean forward to put his drink on the table, he couldn’t reach it, so he settled for setting it down on the floor. “Now yours.” It took a couple of tries before he got a good grip on the glass and set it next to his. “There. Now, where was I?”

“Not kissing me?”

“Wait, what? You don’t want me to kiss you?”

“No, I do, but you weren’t.”

“Oh, I should fix that.”

“You should.”

They stared at each other, Sam didn’t know if her body was responding to him, or if it was the amount of alcohol she’d consumed that made her body feel alive as it was pressed up against his.

He leaned down and his lips softly slid back and forth against hers. She turned a little bit more to get closer and wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the feeling of his hands moving over her back. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“I wasn’t going to.” Pulling her closer to him, he leaned back, laying down on the couch with her on top of him.

She moaned when he deepened the kiss, relaxing into him. At that point, she wasn’t sure if she had any bones. When she was with him, she felt like she was home. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

His hand slipped around to her hip and she couldn’t control herself. It was the one tickle spot she couldn’t turn off. Giggling, she wiggled and they both ended up rolling off the couch, landing hard on the floor.

Glancing up at him through her hair, she laughed harder at the pained expression on his face. “Sorry . . . so sorry . . . ticklish . . .”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the side of his head where he’d hit it on the ground. “I kind I’ve found that out.”

She tried to stop laughing but couldn’t. When she saw his lips twitch, she laughed harder. They relaxed, laughing until they both ended up falling asleep, together, where they had tumbled to.

Day 22

Ethan–

Why? Why did I get so drunk? Yeah, I don’t recommend it. You’re older than me, and I sure couldn’t handle it like I used to. Everything hurts. You’ll end up out of commission for a week. For once, listen to me. Don’t do it.

Evan

Ethan groaned and his hands flew to his head right away. He rolled over and curled up in a ball on the hard floor. The last thing he wanted to do was move again, or make a sound. As fast as his sluggish brain would work, he tried to figure out where he was and why his whole body hurt so badly. Slowly, it all came back. He had been working out in the shed and getting angrier with every passing minute. When he went to confront Sam, he’d found out about Patty. The one part of his body that hadn’t been hurting clutched in pain, his heart.

He kind of understood what his brother had been talking about now, about not wanting him around when he died. The end was never pretty. While Patty went relatively quickly, most did not, and some hung on for a long time, needing more and more care.

As more of the evening came back to him, he realized he was at Sam’s house. He moved his hand around trying to find her. The last thing he remembered was kissing her and falling off the couch. He wished he could remember more, but since he was still on the floor fully clothed, he had to assume nothing else happened.

Squinting his eyes open, Ethan knew it was going to hurt when the bright morning light hit them. He wasn’t wrong. Cursing, he tried to work through the pain so he could get a better look around. The only thing he could hear, besides the ringing in his ears, was silence. Either she was sleeping comfortably in her bed or she wasn’t next to him.

He rolled over and moved his knees under him. Ever so slowly, Ethan pulled his weight up, and crawled over to the couch, resting against it. In the past, he never had more than a couple of drinks at a time–he never wanted to lose control, or his edge in any situation. The previous night, he’d thrown all of his rules out the door, and was paying for it.

His tongue felt two sizes too big and fused to the roof of his mouth. He whimpered deep in his throat when he saw a huge glass of water with a bottle of aspirin next to it. Moving as quickly as he could, he pitched for the coffee table and grabbed onto the glass as if he’d been in the desert for the past week. He drank deeply, stopping only to pop a few pills into his mouth before draining the rest down.

Sighing, he sank back and sat on the floor for a few minutes and let everything start to work. Glancing around him, he noticed the clock on the wall. “Shit,” he said and swiftly jumped up, before racing out of the house and back to his room. He was late for work. Hurriedly, he showered and dressed, trying to remember what events were scheduled for the day.

“Hey, Country Club, you’re late,” Phil said with a laugh. “Shake a leg, you’ve got a long list of things to do before your tee time.”

“Ha-ha.” Ethan waved him off and searched for Sam. He wanted to make sure she was fine and apologize for being late. Even after his parents died and he was learning how to raise a kid and work, he’d never been late.

Everywhere he checked, he had just missed her. He finally caught up to her in the Legacy Garden. “Sam, how are you feeling? I’m sorry I’m late.”

She turned hard eyes toward him. “I’m fine. Yes, you are late. Some of us still managed to show up on time, even after the events of the night before.”

“Well, maybe you should have woken me.” He narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I did.” She mimicked his stance. “You, on the other hand, told me to leave you alone, so I did. You’re a big boy. You can handle your own responsibilities.” She turned to walk toward the gardening shed.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t drink. I’ve never felt this shitty before and I overslept. So sue me, I’m sure I’m not the first and I won’t be last.”