Blue Sky Days (20 page)

Voice unsteady, I said, “Wow. You’ve thought of everything.”

Nicholas laughed under his breath and kissed the top of my head. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. That life can be ours, Emma. I just need to get well again.”

“You will," I said firmly, the words a command, a hope, a wish, and a prayer all in one. “You will.”

*****

Over the next week Nicholas and I went back and forth between Daisy’s house and the Shaw house. Nicholas was too tired to do much, but he appreciated the variety in scenery, and if we wanted to be alone, his was the perfect place, since Sam was still away on business.

Sam called several times a day to check on Nicholas, his voice full of regret and sadness as he apologized over and over for having to be so far away while Nicholas was sick. Nicholas, Daisy, and I took turns reassuring him that everything was fine and he didn’t need to feel guilty for something that was beyond his control. Nicholas was the most vocal of all, telling his dad firmly that he loved him, didn’t blame him, and he was being well taken care of.

Daisy and I tried to live up to that by making sure Nicholas had everything he needed. We cooked healthy meals that the three of us ate in a different place every day, alternating between the porch, the living room, and the kitchen, just to keep things interesting. Vince and Maggie brought take-out from the diner one night, and the five of us spread out blankets and ate picnic-style on the living room floor in front of the fireplace. We all tried to keep the tone light, fun, and spontaneous, as it always had been.

Nicholas and I went for a walk every night to keep up his strength. Roy had warned us to expect a noticeable deterioration in Nicholas’s physical strength, but to try as much as possible to carry on with regular life until treatments started. I could see the slow progression of it, especially when we took our walks; I knew it was hard for him, knew it tired him out more than anything, but he insisted on continuing even when we had to walk so slow it felt like we were almost standing still.

As the date to check into the hospital and start treatments drew closer, the tension became more and more visible in Nicholas. His jaw was often clenched, his brow furrowed, and his shoulders hunched from tension, fatigue, and worry. The dark circles under his eyes returned, even though I knew he slept well at night—he told me he was able to relax and sleep soundly knowing I was there beside him if he needed me.

I would often walk into a room and find him pacing. He joked that it was part of his exercise routine to build strength before the chemo, but I could see the fear in his eyes and knew it was because his mind was constantly racing and the movement somehow kept him grounded.

Nicholas was due at Maltonville Hospital to start his treatments on Monday, September sixteenth. That morning, we both slept in, and when we awoke, it was as if we had a silent agreement not to talk about the hospital or anything having to do with the cancer. We went about our morning as we had for the past week, getting ready, then eating breakfast in the kitchen with Daisy.

When the grandfather clock in the living room struck ten, all three of us jumped as if the familiar gonging was something more ominous, like a gunshot. Nicholas and I looked at each other, our gazes locked for a few seemingly endless seconds before he said, “I guess it’s time to go.”

My mouth was suddenly so dry I was unable to respond, so I just nodded my head and pushed away from the table. A few minutes later, as I came down the stairs with Nicholas’s overnight bag, along with a small canvas bag I had packed, I could hear a car pulling up outside.

Nicholas and Daisy were standing side by side in the foyer, their shoulders touching, their faces blank. My stomach clenched painfully at the sight of them—my two favourite people in the world, normally bright, happy, laughing, and joking—now with grave faces that were almost unrecognizable.

I wondered if they hadn’t heard the car pulling up outside, but as footsteps sounded on the porch Nicholas stepped forward and opened the door. Maggie was standing there with her fist raised, ready to knock; Vince was off to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels with his brows drawn.

Without a word Maggie stepped forward and Nicholas wrapped his arms around her. Over Nicholas’s shoulder I could see that her eyes were red from crying, and when she met my gaze, tears welled and spilled over her cheeks. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping away from Nicholas and hastily wiping at her wet cheeks. “Vince didn’t want us to come until I could get myself under control, but I knew if we didn’t leave soon we’d miss seeing you before you left.”

She looked so guilty that Nicholas put his arms around her again, making soothing sounds as he rubbed her back in wide circles. “It’s all right, Mags. I’m going to be fine. I’ll be seeing you guys in a few days, and Emma’s going to be with me.”

“I know,” Maggie said, stepping back and taking a deep breath, then giving Nicholas a watery smile. “You’re the strongest man I know…next to Vince of course.” She looked over her shoulder at Vince, her smile more genuine this time, radiating love. “I’m not worried. We’re just going to miss you, that’s all.”

When I tried to sneak a glance at the clock, Vince saw me and said they wouldn’t keep us any longer because they didn’t want us to be late. Nicholas and I donned our coats, and Daisy, Vince, and Maggie followed us out to my car. As Vince put our bags in the trunk, Maggie ran to her car and came back carrying a round tin with autumn leaves and pumpkins painted on it. “Mama sent some of your favourite goodies from the bakery,” she said, handing the tin to Nicholas. “Baked fresh this morning. I know you might not have much of an appetite, but…” She trailed off and shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. We were all aware of the possible side effects from the chemo, including a loss of appetite.

“Thank her for me,” Nicholas said. “Mama knows I’ll be hungry for her goodies no matter what.” His smile was genuine even if it wasn’t his usual mega-watt one, and he put his free arm around Maggie, pulling her close again and pressing a kiss to her cheek. He did the same with Daisy, holding her a little longer and whispering words I couldn’t hear, but that had Daisy’s eyes filling with tears.

He stopped in front of Vince and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You take care of our girls,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the three of us as we huddled together. “And take care of yourself.” He threw his arm around Vince and pulled him close, thumping him lightly on the back as Vince put both arms around Nicholas and hugged him tightly. When they pulled apart, I could see both guys clenching their jaws. Vince kneeled on the driveway under the pretense of tying his shoe, but I saw him wiping at his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

“Well,” Nicholas said, turning to me and holding out his hand. “Time to go.” He led me around to the driver’s side of the car and opened my door, kissing me lightly on the nose as I paused in front of him before getting in. He closed the door and walked around to his side, waving to the others before getting in and buckling his seatbelt.

I started the car and sat there looking out at our friends—our
family
—as they moved together to stand in a line, their arms around each other’s waists. I took a mental snapshot of the three of them standing there, and tried to pretend they were wishing us bon voyage as if we were heading off on an adventure instead of going to the hospital for Nicholas’s cancer treatments.

My throat tightened with the threat of tears, and I raised my hand in a wave before turning to back down the driveway. I couldn’t look at them again, couldn’t stand to see the forced smiles that were attempts at hiding worry and fear. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nicholas waving at them, and he continued to do so until the house was no longer in sight.

He sighed heavily and slumped back against the seat, closing his eyes. Reaching out, he rested his hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze. When I looked over at him, his eyes were still closed but his face looked more relaxed than it had a moment before.

When we were on the highway, I turned the radio on low to dispel the silence in the car. I smiled when I realized the song ‘All I Want is You’ by U2 was just starting. Since coming to Riverview, I had listened to the band on a daily basis because Daisy was always playing their music in her creative room, in the kitchen while cooking, or in the car. She, Nicholas, and I had come to think of their songs as the soundtrack of our lives because they were often playing during important moments.

This felt like one of those important moments—a beginning and an end. The start of Nicholas’s treatments, and the end of life as we knew it, at least for a while.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nicholas, eyes still closed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He began to hum along to the song, and when I glanced over at him, his head was turned on the headrest and he was watching me, his eyes brighter than they had been when we left home.

He began to sing softly along with the chorus, and I held my breath, fighting back tears. “All the promises we make from the cradle to the grave, when all I want is you.” I was afraid that if I took my eyes off the road to look at him I’d start crying and never be able to stop.

I could feel his eyes on me as he continued to hum along to the song, his warm hand still resting on my leg, connecting us. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was still holding and covered Nicholas’s hand with mine, squeezing his fingers tightly. He squeezed mine in return, then settled back in his seat, closing his eyes once more.

It felt like no time at all before we arrived at Maltonville Hospital. I was sure the hour-long drive would drag, but most of it was a blur of cars on the highway. I parked beside a familiar-looking truck, and the minute I turned off the engine the truck door swung open and Sam got out.

“Dad!” Nicholas cried, fumbling with his seatbelt and opening the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still in British Columbia!”

Sam enfolded Nicholas in an enormous hug, burying his face in Nicholas’s neck. I felt the threat of tears again as I slowly climbed from the car and walked around to join them.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get home sooner,” Sam said, releasing Nicholas but then cupping his face in his hands and looking him over slowly. “I was so worried about you that I was completely useless on the job. They told me to come home and I didn’t think twice, I just booked the next flight out.”

He finally saw me standing there, and grabbed me, pulling me in for a bone-crushing hug. “I got in about two hours ago,” he explained, his words slightly muffled by my hair. “I called Daisy from the road and she said you guys had left for the hospital so I drove right here from the airport.” He stepped back and cupped my face the way he had with Nicholas. “It’s so good to see you both. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

“You’d think he’d been gone a month,” Nicholas said lightly, and I knew he was trying to relieve Sam of some of the guilt he was feeling. The small smile on his face vanished and he said, “Dad, you know I understand about work. You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t absolutely have to.”

Sam shook his head vigorously, his eyes glistening with tears. “Or if I hadn’t known I was leaving you in capable hands.” He put his arm around me and pulled me to his side, then grabbed Nicholas with his free hand and the three of us stood in the parking lot joined together in a group hug.

Just when I didn’t think I could take it any longer without breaking down in sobs, Nicholas broke away. “I’m glad you’re back,” he told Sam, his voice rough. “Today of all days when I…we—” he glanced at me, “can use all the support possible.”

I opened the trunk and Sam insisted on carrying both bags. The three of us went inside and rode the elevator to the sixth floor, where Roy was waiting for us. What I saw of the sixth floor as Roy led us to Nicholas’s room was much nicer than anything I could have imagined.

For the past week I had been picturing a stark, cold, sterile environment with an antiseptic smell and no homey touches. What I actually saw was walls painted a warm seafoam green, adorned with beautiful paintings of landscapes and old-fashioned country homes.

We turned down the corridor where Roy said Nicholas’s room was, and I noticed what appeared to be a lounge at the end of the hall with comfortable-looking armchairs, a television, and shelves full of books and board games. I caught Nicholas’s eye and smiled, and he grinned back.

Roy opened the door to room 623 and stepped back to allow Nicholas, Sam, and me to enter first. My first thought was that the room reminded me more of a hotel than a hospital. The room—a private one, thanks to Nicholas’s insurance—was surprisingly spacious. There was a single hospital-issue bed in the centre of the floor, covered in a dark green comforter that matched the curtains on the large window. Roy had explained to us at Nicholas’s last appointment that the beds in the cancer ward were more comfortable than regular hospital cots because most patients on that floor were there for extended periods of time.

There were nightstands on either side of the bed, a matching dresser across the room, and two armchairs that looked like the ones I’d seen in the sitting area down the hall.

Sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating the pale green walls, and spotlighting the single painting across from the bed—a scene with dark purple and blue mountains reflected in a lake, and a huge, glowing full moon with hundreds of tiny stars surrounding it.

“This is really nice,” Nicholas said, taking his bag from Sam and setting it on the bed. I watched him look around the room, taking it all in, and I wondered what he was really thinking.

Roy left, informing us that he would be back when Nicholas was settled in and would explain things to us then. I helped Nicholas unpack his suitcase, then set my own bag on the bed and emptied its contents.

“What’s all this?” Nicholas asked, eyeing the items on the bed with a small smile.

“Just a few things from home to make the place feel more like…well, home,” I said, moving closer to him. “I brought some framed family photos.” I pointed to the pictures in matching silver frames—Nicholas as a little boy with his mother and Sam; him as a teenager with Vince and Maggie; a group shot taken a month before of the two of us with Sam, Daisy, Vince, and Maggie; and finally a picture of just Nicholas and me on a sunny day sitting under the oak tree in the park.