Out of Reach (3 page)

Seth

“Turn right up here, and then go straight to the end of the road. There should be a track to your left.”

I followed Andy’s directions, marveling at some of the huge houses we passed along the way. With lush, green sprawling lawns and perfectly-manicured gardens, everything was stunning. I felt out of place in my old, piece-of-shit car.

“What the hell, Andy? Millicent?” Em sighed, rolling her eyes.

Millicent was one of the most expensive holiday destinations in the state. This was where people with money came to relax, where the teenaged spawn of people with money came to party. A rental here must’ve cost him a shitload.

Andy shrugged, a grin on his face. “What’s the point of money in the bank if I’m dying?”

I shot a look toward Em. Her eyes were dark. She looked annoyed, and I felt her pain. I was angry that he would blow his life savings without any consideration for her.
He
was dying; she wasn’t. She had debts, many of which had been run up because she couldn’t work full time while caring for Andy when he was really sick.

“That’s a great attitude to have,” I muttered.

“Geez, Seth. Relax, okay? Don’t go all Mr. Responsible on me. I think if I’ve ever been entitled to let loose a little, it’s now.”

“Come on, when have you
ever
held back?” I scoffed. “Your whole life has been one party after the next.” As soon as the words fell out of my mouth, I regretted them.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “because dying of cancer is such a party. You should try it sometime.”

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean that—”

“Yeah you did. And it’s okay. But I need to do this. And I need you guys here with me, whether you agree with what I’m doing or not.”

“Fine,” I said, “but at least let me front some of the cost.”

“No.” He shook his head, and I knew there was no point in arguing. “This is my way of thanking you guys, okay? Trust me.” He nodded straight ahead. “It’s that brick place down the end.”

I pulled into the gated driveway and punched in the code that Andy read out. The gate swung open, allowing me to drive through.

Holy shit. The place was amazing. The cobbled driveway swerved though the heavily-treed front yard right up to the front door, accessed via a ramp instead of steps.

“Wheelchair-friendly,” Andy assured me, as if reading my mind.

“Andy, this place is beautiful,” Em breathed. She was right: it was fucking stunning. And it was hard to stay mad at him knowing that this was our home for the next couple of weeks.

“Wait till you see inside. And the private beach out back.”

“How much is this costing you?” Em asked, her voice nervous.

“We’ve been through this.” He sighed. “Forget about money and just enjoy yourselves. For me. Please?”

She made a face, but nodded.

After parking the car, we got out. I helped Andy into his chair and pushed him up the ramp while Em grabbed our bags. When we reached the front door, I took the key from Andy’s jacket and slipped it into the lock. The huge, hand-crafted wooden doors swung open.

Wow. And I’d thought the outside was impressive.

The place was huge—as in my entire apartment could fit in the entry kind of huge. Big windows donned the back wall, which I was sure would showcase the breathtaking view of the beach. Pity it was so late. An oversized deck, complete with Jacuzzi and a daybed, curled around the back, lit up with strings of lights.

The kitchen was all stainless steel and black marble, which tied in nicely with the black leather sofas and huge flat-screen television in the living area. It was the kind of place you’d expect to see while flipping through a
Home Beautiful
magazine.

“This is fucking unbelievable,” I said, running my fingers along the soft leather of one of the sofas. My place at home was nice and all, but this . . . this was epic. I turned just in time to see the look on Em’s face as she walked inside. Her mouth fell open, and then curved up into a grin as she took in the room.

Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be as bad as I’d thought. This could be just what Em needed: to get away from everything. Have a little fun.

“Holy crap, I’m in love.” She sighed. She dropped our bags beside the TV and walked over toward the deck. She placed her hands on the window and stared out, her warm breath clouding over the glass. “I could stay here forever,” she said.

My chest tightened. This would be Andy’s forever.

“I hate to be a party pooper, but I need a nap. Can’t get drunk if I can’t stay awake, right?”

“Drunk?” I repeated, nearly choking on the word.

Andy nodded, a grin spreading across his lips. “What’s a beach party without alcohol? You just wait, Seth. You think this is going to be about me lying in bed wishing my life were different? Fuck that, man. You know me better than that.”

He was right: I
did
know him better than that, which was what worried me. He acted so strong, like he was ready for what was coming, but I wondered how much of that was an act. Death scared the hell out of me. Apart from my grandparents, who’d died before I was born, I hadn’t had anyone close to me die. Andy dying terrified me. How could he not be scared?

“This is about me forgetting I’m dying. Right now I’m alive, so I’m going to live. Or at least, going to live vicariously though you guys,” he added cryptically, his eyes narrowing as he chuckled.

“Oh God. What are you planning?” I groaned, growing more and more nervous by the minute.

“You’ll see.” He grinned. “But trust me. You guys are never going to forget me. I’m going to make sure of it.”

I snorted, my eyes meeting Em’s. She smiled back.

As if we could ever forget him.

***

Sitting at the kitchen table, I glanced up at Em as she walked into the room. She looked tired, her eyelids heavy with dark circles around them. Her long, dark hair hung over her shoulders, reaching halfway down her back. I inhaled sharply, her beauty breathtaking. I could’ve stared at her all day. Every time I saw her it was like I was seeing her for the first time. I forced myself to look away, back down to the newspaper I was reading.

“How is he?” I asked, reading the same line over and over.

She shrugged, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “You know Andy. Even if he wasn’t fine, he’d say he was.” It was true: anything, if it meant not worrying Em or I.

“How are
you
?” I asked, the words tumbling from my mouth in a rush. Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t even get my words straight around her. One look from her, one smile, and everything in my head felt jumbled. You’d think I’d be used to that feeling by now. I wasn’t. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

“I’m okay,” she said, shrugging. She walked around the table, pulling out the chair next to me, and sat down. Her perfume drifted past my senses: soft and delicate, just like her.

I stared down at the newspaper again, only now taking in the line I’d been reading for the last five minutes.
The Twilight Carnival comes to town.

“Anything interesting?” Emily asked, her lips forming a perfect circle around the opening of the soda bottle.

Oh, God
. I shifted in my seat, arousal building inside of me as I imagined those lips . . . elsewhere.

“Nope,” I said, the tone of my voice about three levels too high. I sounded like a teenager going through puberty. “There’s a carnival one town over we can check out if you want.”

He face lit up. “I’ve never been to a carnival,” she said, her lips spreading into a grin. She fingered the rim of her bottle of soda, a wistful look in her eyes.

“How is that even possible?” I smirked. “Everyone’s been to the carnival at least once. It’s un-American to not have.”

“Excuse me,” she replied, sitting straighter in her seat. “You’re calling me un-American, Mr. I-Spent-Every-Friday-Night-in-College-Studying-Rather-Than-Going-to-the-Football-Game?”

“Hey, I had exams,” I protested, laughing. I was probably the only college student who took college seriously—partly because I didn’t trust myself to drink around Em. College had been a weird time for me. Em studying elsewhere had made me realize how much I hated being around her, yet I couldn’t imagine not being around her. Love was a fucked-up thing when it was one-sided.

“Every week?” she asked, rolling her eyes. Okay, she had me there. So I didn’t see the point in watching men jumping all over one another when I needed a near-perfect score to get into law school. So what?

Andy, on the other hand, had been all about the partying. He missed more classes than he attended, usually because he was too hung-over to find his way out of bed.

He and Emily had begun dating just before college. We went to Northwestern University, while she had studied literacy at Chicago University. Em would spend nearly every weekend in our apartment.

“What have you told work?” she asked suddenly.

“Nothing yet. I’ll call in sick on Monday and take it from there. I have some leave saved up, so I might try and wrangle that. You?”

Emily smiled. “That’s the beauty of being a columnist. I can do it anywhere.” Her eyes clouded over. “They’ve been really understanding, actually. My boss lost her husband to cancer a few years ago. She’s been really supportive.”

“Good,” I smiled, “because if you needed me to go down and hit some heads, I’d do it.”

She laughed. “God, Seth, you’re such a dork.”

“But seriously, I’m really glad they are so understanding. I guess it helps that she’s been through it too, huh?”

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “It does, actually. She’s been helping me with what to expect in these last few weeks. I think I feel better knowing what’s coming, if that makes sense?”

It did. And I imagined it would be much more comforting coming from someone who had been through it than relying on Google, as I had been doing. The way cancer ravaged the body in those last few days . . . the idea of that being Andy terrified the hell out of me.

“I’m pretty beat. I think I might go to bed too.” I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for this, Seth.” She kissed me on the cheek, her hands trailing down my arm as she walked away. I watched her go as her touch lingered on me.

Closing my eyes, I sighed. This was going to be hard.

Emily

Two hundred and forty-eight days: that was the last time we were intimate together. I lay on the bed beside him, watching his chest slowly rise and fall with each shallow breath he took. How awful was I that sex was what was on my mind right now? Thoughts like this flew through my mind on a daily basis, and each and every time I felt like complete shit. It was like I wanted to torture myself by thinking of the things we’d lost that were out of his control. And mine.

I reached out and touched his arm. His skin, clammy and so cold, hung off him. He’d lost so much weight. Even in the last few weeks the difference was noticeable, and it scared me.

Death was something that really put things into perspective, and made all our other problems seem so trivial. I hated that he was dying; I hated that he was leaving me. I hated him for not fighting this harder. And I hated myself for even thinking about how long it had been since we were last intimate—like he had any control over that.

Most of all, I hated that our relationship had shifted. I loved Andy with every fiber of my being, but preparing someone for death does something to you. It was like my mind had gone into major protection mode, determined to shield me from as much pain as possible. Maybe it had something to do with losing my parents so young? I don’t know.

I loved him so, so much, but was I still
in
love with him? I couldn’t even think of answering that right now.

I can’t be in here.

Creeping out of the bed, I grabbed my robe and threw it over my shoulders, lacing my arms through the sleeves. It was cold—as you’d expect at nearly five in the morning in the middle of spring. I walked out to the kitchen with my notebook and made myself a coffee. This place was huge. The kitchen was bigger than my entire apartment back home, all with the latest appliances.

I took my coffee and notebook outside onto the deck. A large daybed lay in the corner, overlooking the beach. Crawling onto it, I covered myself with blankets, trying to warm myself up.

I stared down at my notebook—my bible, as Andy called it. I’d always loved writing. When Andy got sick, my need to express myself through words became even stronger. There was something about expressing your thoughts through words on a page that was impossible to explain.

This was me nearly every night. I rarely slept, and when I did, it wasn’t well. Things had gotten worse when Andy’s mother insisted he move in with them. Part of me hated having to share him. How fucked up was that? It was only natural a mother would want to help her dying son, and yet I couldn’t help but feel resentment toward her for that. Another part of me felt like a failure, like I couldn’t look after him on my own. I guess that was because to some extent it was true.

Palliative care, as they called it, was harsh. The last few months, his health had deteriorated so much that he needed help with everything. It was hard watching him slowly die. Because that’s what I was doing. Watching. Waiting.

Only it wasn’t so slow anymore.

***

The bright morning sunlight filled my eyes as I blinked them open. I must’ve fallen asleep. My notebook lay open, clutched in my right hand. An extra blanket had been placed over me.
Seth.
My spine tingled. I loved how much he cared for me. Without him, I would have fallen to pieces long ago.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

I sat up, eagerly accepting the cup of coffee Seth was holding out for me. I smiled shyly. He looked like he’d just woken up. His hair was all messed in a way that made me want to wet my hands and run them through it to style it into place. His blue eyes sparkled as he sat down next to me.

“Got to hand it to the old boy. He sure knows how to go all out.” He gazed away from me, taking in our panoramic view of the sandy, white beach.

I nodded, watching the waves gently crash into the sand. “It’s a private beach?” I asked, realizing it was deserted. It was too beautiful for nobody to be enjoying it, even in this brisk, cool air.

“Yep. It’s all ours.”

I lay back, resting my head on the pillows, cradling my steaming mug in my hands. I hated mornings. I’d hated them ever since my parents died, and doubly so when Andy got sick. Every morning brought us one step closer to death.

“How’re you holding up?” Seth asked quietly.

I shrugged. There was no point lying; Seth knew me too well. I snuggled in closer to him, stealing some of his warmth. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead.

“Okay,” I finally replied weakly.

“Bullshit,” he said, not buying it.

I rolled my eyes. What did he want me to say? Of course I wasn’t okay.

“Talk to me, Em.”

“What’s the point?” I mumbled. His fingers closed around mine. God, he was so warm. How was he so warm? My fingers felt like ice blocks against the heat of the cup I was holding. “Talking isn’t going to change things.”

“No, but it might help put things into perspective.”

I laughed. “Perspective? How’s this for perspective? I blame him for leaving me. I’m too scared to move on, Seth, because I’m terrified of forgetting him when he’s gone.”

“Nobody said you have to move on right away,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my cheek. “You feel right now that you’re never going to get through this, and I get it. But you will. You’re an incredibly strong, amazing woman. The strongest woman I know.”

A rush of excitement surged through me, hearing him say those words.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, my face heating up at his words.

“Are you blushing, Em?” He nudged me and laughed. “Now that’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, nudging him back so hard my coffee spilled all over the white spread. I’d only ever been with Andy. Hearing Seth say those things, even just as a friend, wakened some unexpected feelings inside of me.

The funny thing was, it had been Seth I’d been crushing on back in the beginning. I’d hang around with them, praying that he would notice me . . . but he never did. He never showed any interest, so when Andy had asked me out I’d said yes. The three of us had been inseparable, even when Andy and I had become a couple. Seth was so much a part of our relationship, it would’ve been weird not having him around.

Where Andy had my heart, Seth was so fiercely protective of me that I’d always felt lucky to have the both of them in my life. They were so alike, yet so different—but the one thing that remained constant was their loyalty to each other, and to me.