Adam's List (27 page)

I keep in touch nearly every day with Kelly through FaceTime and texts, and call my mom as often as it takes to appease her, continuing with the lie that I’m a counselor at Kelly’s family camp. It takes every ounce of willpower not to break down and tell Kelly everything, beg for her help or advice. But this is the kind of conversation that should be held in person, so I keep up the front that everything’s okay and we’re having a grand time in the big city.

Pretending I’m okay and Adam’s okay begins to wear on me our second week in New York. Before we’re to go on a bar run with Theo and James our last night in the city, Adam heads upstairs for a nap. I lay with him for a while before wandering over to Theo’s place.

“I gotta hand it to you,” Theo says, shaking his head as he opens the door wide.

“You’re a lot tougher than you look. I would’ve thought by now you would’ve broken down instead of playing into Adam’s lie.”

“I need a beer,” I say, brushing past him.

Theo shuts the door behind me, chuckling. “Go, sit out back. I’ll bring you one.”

His backyard has become an oasis, a place for me to relax and think. The building tension from the week easily fades away just at the sight of it. I sink into my favorite sofa of the three, closing my eyes and wishing things were different. Wishing Adam was healthy and this was
our
place. Wishing we didn’t have to go to our next stops and, eventually, back home. I didn’t mean to fall in love with the city any more than I fell in love with Adam. It’s going to be hard to leave for our next destination, especially when I’ll be all alone with Adam without the instant support from Theo.

Theo hands me a beer before settling on the couch at my side. “Are you sure you want to keep going? Maybe you stay here for a few more days. You can crash in my guest room until you’ve got things figured out.”

I take a long swig and sigh. “Adam wants to keep going.”

“Everyone can tell he’s growing weak. James asked me yesterday if he was sick.

What would you do if he just collapsed behind the wheel? Do you even know what he needs?”

“He doesn’t want to talk about it. Now that he’s no longer hiding it, he isn’t as secretive about testing his blood sugar and giving himself insulin shots. I’ve seen him do it enough times that I think I could help if there was an emergency. Whenever he naps, I spend the time doing as much research on his type of diabetes as possible. But...I don’t know anymore. I thought I could pretend everything’s okay and go along with this. Just watching him waste away...I’m starting to wonder if I have it in me. It’s killing me to see him like this.”

Theo sets his hand on my knee. “I know I told you that you might have to give up a little bit of yourself if you want to be with him, but at some point you’re going to have to draw a line. The guy cares about you, even if he decides to throw his own life away. If he’s going to continue to be stubborn, maybe you should tell him it’s time to return home.”

I stare at Theo’s Marine symbol on his calf. “I made the mistake of pushing someone I loved away once before, for all the wrong reasons. It didn’t end well.” I wipe at my sudden bout of tears. “I can’t walk away from Adam, no matter how moronic he’s being, or how much he infuriates me. I love him more than anything. I’m in this for as long as he’ll put up with me.”

“Hang in there, kid.” Theo folds me in his arms, setting his chin on my head. “Things would be so much easier if you had just accepted my offer the first time we met.”

I burst out laughing.

I insist on driving to Washington, mostly because I’m afraid of Adam passing out after my talk with Theo. It was hard to leave our new friend behind. I almost took him up on the offer to stay with him a few days longer. But Adam was ready to go bright and early, chatting on excitedly about seeing the White House and the chances of catching Obama while there.

As expected, Adam takes a nap as soon as we check into our room, even though he slept a good part of the way. Our hotel is within walking distance to many of the tourist attractions, but knowing it would completely wipe Adam out, I sign us up for a tour bus while he’s sleeping.

My heart isn’t in our trip to Mount Vernon the next day, although I try to genuinely smile for the pictures Adam insists on taking at each stop. I’m too worried about how he’s feeling, watching his every move, debating whether or not to follow Theo’s advice and call off what’s left of the trip. Whether Adam can sense this or not, he continues on like nothing’s wrong, despite his much slower rate and dampened spirit. He’s become frail, like an old man in a young guy’s body. It reminds me of Johnny Knoxville doing his
Bad Grandpa
skit.

When we return to our hotel that night, he buckles onto the bed so quickly I wonder if he’s passed out. Then he tilts his head up, grinning. “Want to make reservations for dinner somewhere? I found some great steak restaurants in the area.”

“Let’s just order in,” I suggest, curling up at his side.

He’s suddenly over me, kissing my neck, running his hands up and down my legs and stomach. “I like the sound of that plan.”

As much as I want to get into the moment with him, there’s a cloud of anger surfacing over the unfair situation. He’s basically resolved to a form of suicide. Why should I have to go along with it? Any
sane
person would try to talk someone down off a ledge. Why should this be any different?

Maybe this is what it feels like to finally cross the line. I’ve humored Adam for as long as I can, even though I know it’s wrong and it goes against every instinct. I still love him and probably always will, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend this hasn’t become out of control.

I nudge him to slide off the bed. It’s way too easy to push him away, and I suddenly feel guilty for doing it. Just how easily can I accidentally hurt him? “I have to go to the bathroom.”

He watches me with a wounded gaze. “Everything okay?”

“Fine. I just...I don’t think that burrito from lunch agreed with me.”

“Oh.” His eyes grow wide. “What can I order that will agree with your stomach?”

“Just a sandwich, maybe.” I shuffle to the bathroom and lock myself inside, running the water to hide my cries of anguish. As much as I’m relieved that I’ve finally unlocked the emotions that will allow me to cry again, I wish there was a way to shut them off.

The next day is pretty much the same. I watch Adam with weary eyes while he pretends nothing’s wrong, and becomes excited over everything we see. We make it to the White House, but the President is out of the country on peace talks. We visit the Lincoln Memorial and the reflecting pool, but there’s a dark overcast that duplicates our sullen mood. By the time we reach the wall honoring the Vietnam Vets, it’s down-pouring.

The city seems to be crawling with tourists, many young children in groups or with their families. The culture is so different from New York—suits and ties, wider streets, slower paced, less people, uptight—that I find myself mourning the fact that we’re no longer in my favorite city. I miss the energy and inspiration that came with strolling through our neighborhood, the various street-side cafes, and the convenience of the subway that would get us anywhere we wanted to go.

For dinner I allow Adam to take me to a five star restaurant where the linens cost more than my dress, and nothing on the menu is under $50. It’s beautiful and lit with low candles that make it terribly romantic, but Adam sees the light has gone out of my eyes.

After we’re done eating, he takes my hand over the table.

“I was thinking today...we still have to get tattoos.”

The tattoo thing was my idea, and kind of a joke, but Adam wrote it down. “We don’t have to do
everything
on the list,” I say with a shrug.

“Let’s go, right now. There must be a hundred parlors in this city. One will have a walk-in appointment available.”

Though getting tattoos was once one of the things I had looked forward to most, since it’s one of the few things
I
haven’t done, the fun of Adam’s list has diminished with our doomed future. It’s beginning to feel pointless, even if it is a list of things he wants to do before he leaves me forever. “We haven’t even decided what we’re going to get.”

The smile he gives me doesn’t look right against his tired eyes. “I know just the thing.” He throws the signed receipt on the table and stands, still holding my hand.

“Let’s go.”

It’s extremely difficult not to giggle each time I catch the tattoo artist giving Adam a sideways look. When they’re done and he’s covering the fresh ink with saran wrap, Adam catches me smirking. “What?”

I hide my mouth behind my hands with a burst of laughter. “I think Rooster’s trying to understand why you went for a...
girly
tattoo. Am I right?”

The heavily tattooed, hulking man with piercings in places I didn’t know you could pierce just looks at me and shrugs. “I’ve seen everything by now. Guys will get anything when they’re in love.”

Adam comes over to me, hooking my heck inside his arm. “It’s not
just
for her. It’s also for my love of the greatest band on the planet.”

He holds his bandaged yellow star on his forearm up to mine. I’ll admit, having matching tattoos makes it feel final, like we’ve openly professed our love for each other.

Yet I’ve already decided it will be a permanent memory of our trip together. My memory

of
him,
once he’s gone
.

“Whatever, man. None of my business.” Rooster stands, tossing his plastic gloves into the trash. “You can pay your other three hundred bucks at the desk.”

I make an “o” with my mouth. “Wait, you meant three hundred a
piece
?”

Rooster smiles, his eyes flat. “Welcome to the big city.”

“These are officially the most expensive, nickel-sized stars ever known to man,” I say to Adam. “We need to call Oprah! We’re going to be
famous
!”

Rooster’s face clouds over, unamused.

Adam pulls me away with him, waving Rooster off. “It’s not a problem, I got it.”

After paying the rest of our ridiculous bill, we step outside into the fresh night air, laughing. Adam rests his arm around my neck again and kisses my temple. “I should’ve gotten a tattoo of your name with a heart. I’m sure our buddy Rooster would’ve
loved
that.”

“I think the stars are perfect.” I stop to entwine my arms around him, gazing up into his eyes. “I really do love you, you know. I’m trying. It’s just...hard.”

Adam nods slowly as he bends down to meet my lips, literally sweeping me off my feet as we kiss on the sidewalk in the middle of loud drunks and rambunctious teens out past their curfew. For a moment I forget that he’s sick and giving me no other choice than to let him die and get caught up in the feel of him.

With our lips still attached, I hold my hand out to grab the next available taxi. We stop long enough to get in and give the driver directions to our hotel before we’re all over each other in the backseat.

I’m too busy losing myself in the idea of getting as much of Adam as possible to care that we’re most likely being watched by the old man driving. I crawl into Adam’s lap, thrusting my tongue deeper into his mouth, rocking my hips above him. I feel his hardness through his cargo shorts and position myself directly over it, letting his pulsating tip press up through my cotton panties. His hands, hidden underneath my dress, slide up to stroke my butt checks, guiding me as I continue pushing him up as high as the stiff material of his shorts will allow.

Adam’s lips break away to trail down my neck and back up. “God, I want you,” he whispers against my ear. “Every inch of you.”

I tip his head up to face me, stealing long, breathless kisses before stopping to stare at him, holding his face in my hands. My heart shatters with the sincerity of his beautiful gaze. Beyond the exhaustion and wear to his body, he looks up at me with so much love and expectation that I don’t know how I could ever stand to be in another relationship again. Even after he’s gone. He’s all mine, only I don’t get him for long. I kiss him again.

If time was a thing you could bottle away to forever place on a shelf to be admired, this would be a moment I’d never want to forget. I can’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling that everything will go downhill from here.

The next morning we’re both incredibly glum, only laughing when we apply lotion to our fresh tattoos in campy unison. Adam doesn’t offer to take my bags, nor do I expect him to. He’s so drained I have to resist the urge to help him back into the pickup. He’s so quiet and still as we drive out of the city that I lean over to check for a pulse. At first I’m sure he’s dead until I find it. It’s slow, but there.

At the first available rest stop, I race out of the pickup to call Theo, sobbing so hard I can hardly form any words.

“Theo, he’s so weak! I think he’s...I can feel him leaving me! Jesus, I’m not ready for this! I don’t know what to do with him! A minute ago I had to check for a fucking heartbeat!”

“Jewels, it’s going to be okay,” Theo coos from his end, waiting until I’m calm enough to continue. “Listen. I’m going to find the airport nearest you and fly you two back here for the weekend. There’s a big party tomorrow night I can’t miss for work, but you can tag along. The three of us will go out tomorrow, have a good time, and try to talk some sense into Adam together on Saturday. I’ll help you get through this.”

“You’re going to just ‘fly us out’?” I repeat, brushing at my tears. “Who
does
that?”

“Don’t worry about that, I can afford it. I’ll find a way for you to pay me back later.”

Despite the teasing in his tone, I recognize Theo for the amazing friend he’s becoming and thank my lucky stars we met.

It isn’t until I’ve had two shots of Patrón and four beers that I realize I haven’t taken my depression meds in a couple days. By then I’m on top of the world—or rather on the top of an elite high-rise apartment overlooking the twinkling lights of Manhattan with the man I love at my side. He’s weak, but he’s alive.