Out of Reach (8 page)

Emily

He was much quieter today. As often as he kept telling me that he was feeling better, I wasn’t sure that I believed him. He’d slept nearly the whole half-hour drive to our destination, only waking just as we arrived. I shot Seth a confused look as we pulled up outside a ranch. He just shrugged.

“This the right place?” he asked, peering at Andy through the rearview mirror.

“Yep. Drive down toward that barn,” he said. As we continued along the dirt driveway, we passed a sign that read
Stanton’s Bulls. Breeders since 1887
. My stomach dropped.
Bulls?

He was crazy if he thought I was going to get on a bull.

“Andy,” I began, biting my lip. “What are we doing at a bull farm?”

“Bull-riding,” he said, as if I’d asked the stupidest question in the world.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Nuh-uh. There’s no fucking way are you going to get me on one of them. I don’t care how much you guilt-trip me.”

“What’s wrong?” Seth smirked at me. “You scared?”

My eyes widened. “I’m not scared,” I scoffed, scowling at him.

He was really on Andy’s side right now? Of course he was. I could see how much Seth had been enjoying the last few days. He and Andy were so similar in many ways, and living out this list was like his own dreams come true. I, on the other hand, would not have put bull-riding on my bucket list, even if I had to name a thousand things.

“I just don’t feel like getting rammed into the dirt by a pissed-off bull.”

“Come on, Em. If you’re chicken, it’s okay. We’ll understand, won’t we?” Andy said, joining in.

I knew what they were doing, and as much as I didn’t want it to work, it was. If there was one thing I hated, it was people thinking I was scared. Andy and Seth had been doing this for eleven years to get me to do what they wanted. They knew exactly how to push my buttons. And they knew I’d cave in order to prove myself.

“Fine,” I shot back, ignoring the grin they exchanged. “And you can stop looking so damn cocky. You’re both assholes.”

They laughed hysterically, which only made me more annoyed. I was glad I could be such a source of amusement for them.

“You make it so easy,” teased Seth. “We shouldn’t enjoy it, but God, Em.” He shook his head. “Messing with you is just so much fun.” I glowered at him as he pulled up outside the barn.

“Eat me,” I muttered, sticking my tongue out. Opening the car door, I climbed out, slamming the door shut, their laughter still ringing in my ears. “And you can get your own damn chair,” I said to Andy as he opened his door.

“Oh come on, Em. Don’t be like that. We’re just having fun with you.” He reached for my hand, his fingers entwining with mine. How could I stay mad at him? Especially with those damn deep-brown eyes melting in front of me. He had this way of always making me forgive him, and I hated it.

I softened, relaxing against his touch. He grinned. He knew he had me.

“Fine,” I mumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I promise you’ll have fun,” he assured me. Fun? I doubted it.

***

Okay, so maybe I was having a
little
bit of fun.

Who knew trying to sit atop an out-of-control and angry twelve-hundred-pound animal could be so much fun? The best part was that I was beating Seth. After an intensive training session to master the basics, I was pretty stoked with my 2.045 seconds on top of my bull.

“Ha, suck that, Walkerson,” I said triumphantly as I hobbled to the edge of the ring. I could barely walk, but it was worth it to see the excitement on Andy’s face.

Seth rolled his eyes as he sat on top of his bull. “You’re not a nice person when you get competitive,” he joked. He patted the neck of his beast. “Let’s show her how this is done, Randy.”

I giggled uncontrollably as his bull bolted into the ring, bucking him off immediately. “That’s how it’s done?” I asked innocently.

“Nobody likes a show-off.” He stood up and brushed himself off as Andy and I sniggered. “How did I do, Tony?” he asked our trainer.

Tony smirked. “0.874 seconds.”

“Ha! I did it,” I said, breaking into a dance. Seth rolled his eyes, but I could see how proud he was of me. “Are you impressed?” I asked Andy. I walked over and kissed him as he smiled at me.

“Very,” he admitted. “I thought Seth would kick your ass.” His hand whipped around behind me, slapping me gently on the butt. “Hey,” he said, catching my playful glare. “I was rooting for you.”

“Well that’s okay then,” I grinned.

***

Instead of going home where Andy obviously needed to be, we were headed into the town to find a tattoo parlor. He’d gotten worse since we left the ranch. Every breath was accompanied by him gasping to control the pain, but he refused to do anything Seth or I said.

“There,” Andy said. I looked out my window and saw the tattoo place he was pointing to. “Go around the block. There was a parking spot out front.”

“Let’s just go home. Nobody in his or her right mind is going to do this to you. Look at you. You can barely breathe.”

As if on cue, he exhaled sharply, his body shuddering. “Have you seen the kinds of people in these joints?” Andy joked, managing a chuckle. “Trust me, they aren’t going to have a problem doing this.”

The young guy in the shop, heavily tattooed and pierced, raised his eyebrows as we walked in. The place was empty, apart from the dude and a girl laying on her stomach on one of the beds. Ink went in all directions across her back like a rainbow.

“Can I help you?” the guy asked, getting up off his chair.

Andy nodded confidently. “Yes, I think you can. I’m looking for a tattoo. Can you fit me in? I’d make an appointment, but I can’t promise I’ll still be alive to honor it.”

The guy’s eyes widened. He glanced back at the girl he’d been working on, who shrugged. “What were you looking for?” He patted the second bed. “Can you get up here okay?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

Seth wheeled Andy over and helped him out of his chair. I stood back, my arms across my chest, taking in the images that donned the walls.

Tattoos were something that had never interested me, and I was surprised that Andy wanted one. He’d never mentioned it before today. The whole concept of injecting ink into my skin wasn’t something I found particularly appealing.

“What were you looking for?” he asked again.

Andy lifted up his shirt. “Just a little something on my back.”

“Did you have a design in mind?”

“I do.” Andy grinned as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bit of paper. “Don’t tell them. I want it to be a surprise.”

The guy took the paper and smoothed it out. He began to laugh. “Are you serious?” he said with a grin. “Because I will totally do this.”

“Dead serious,” Andy shot back, his eyes twinkling.

“Man, what are you doing?” Seth groaned, shaking his head.

“What, are you going to tell me to think about it, that it’s permanent? That it will be with me for the rest of my life?”

Seth shot him a dirty look. “Just don’t do anything that is going to get us killed by your mother, okay?”

“Well don’t let her flip me over and she’ll never know.” He turned back to the guy. “Is this going to hurt?”

“Um, yeah,” he replied, his eyebrows shooting up.

Andy shrugged, and then nodded. “Great. Maybe it will take my mind off the crushing pain in my chest.”

I covered my face with my hands; I couldn’t help it. This whole thing made me want to laugh. Seth was eyeing me like I was crazy, and maybe I was, but this guy was just so cool with Andy’s insane behavior that it was hysterical.

“Are you laughing, Emsky?” Andy accused.

My body shook as big chuckles escaped from my lips. “I’m sorry,” I gasped, “but this is just so freaking crazy . . .” I walked over to watch the guy at work.

“Hey, no peeking!” Andy yelled.

I ignored him and looked at his back as the tattooist began to poke black ink along the outline of the words he had written. I chuckled even harder. Seth jumped up and came to my side.

“If you’re watching then so am I.” His brows furrowed, and then he laughed. “Are you kidding me? You mom is going to freak.”

Right across the center of his back, in big bold letters, were the words

Fuck you Cancer!
It filled half of his back.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I winced. Fuck, I was in pain just watching him.

“Actually, no. I think most of the nerves in my back are shot. If you’re ever going to get a tattoo, do it when you’re dying,” he grinned.

I walked away, pretending I was looking at the designs on the wall. Really, his words had gotten to me. I wiped my eyes, embarrassed that my emotions were getting to me.

It was rare, but sometimes I actually managed to forget that he was dying. And then I’d remember. And my world would come crashing down again. This was one of those times.

“All done.” Andy turned, proudly showing off his new artwork. I had to laugh, because all I could see in my head was Deb’s face when she saw that. “Okay, now we can go home.”

“Not just yet,” I said in my most mysterious voice. Andy’s brow creased as I walked over to the tattooist. “Can you write Andy here?” I asked, pointing to the inside of my wrist.

“Sure. Take a seat.”

“Em,” Andy said, his eyes widening. “No way.”

“Why not?” I argued. “You did. This way I can remember you.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but thought better of it. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispered, love in his eyes. He sat next to me for the twenty minutes it took to have his name forever engraved into my skin. When it was finished, I held it up, examining my swollen red and blotchy skin and the beautifully scrawled
Andy
in the center of it.

“The swelling will go down after a few days, just rub some of this on it twice a day and keep it covered until it dries out.” He handed me a small bottle of cream. “Anything for you?” he asked Seth.

“Hell, no.” He turned to Andy. “You know I love you dude, but not happening.”

I chuckled as we walked out, holding my throbbing wrist in my hand.
I can’t believe I actually did that.
Andy had promised I’d enjoy myself, and while I’d been doubtful, I had to admit that he had been right. Thanks to him, I was pushing myself to experience things I never would’ve even considered had it not been for him.

***

I lay on the bed just watching him. Even asleep, he sounded awful; his chest was so congested that every inhale sounded like he had a lake in his lungs. Cora, my boss, had told me that as the lungs began to shut down it would become harder and harder for him to breathe.

Reaching out, I stroked his hair. It had grown back lighter than before and was fine like baby hair. I looked up as Marta poked her head in the door.

“How is he?” she asked softly.

I shrugged, tears pricking my eyes. “He sounds horrible,” I whispered. My lip trembled as it became harder to hold back the wave of emotion that was waiting to release.

“He should be in the hospital. Or at the very least, he needs a doctor.”

I nodded, knowing that as well as she did. The hospital wasn’t what he wanted, though. There was no getting better from this, and I was determined to honor his wishes for as long as I could. But I couldn’t stand to see him in pain.

“Can you call a doctor? Do you know someone?” I asked. We were hours away from home and his medical team.

She nodded, giving me a sympathetic smile as she backed out of the room.

I turned back to Andy and took his hand, folding my fingers between his. Carefully, I unwrapped the bandage that had been neatly wrapped around my tattoo. It was red and angry, but seeing his name etched onto me made me smile. It had been a small gesture, but this was my way of remembering him.

Seth

Where the hell am I supposed to get half this
shit from?

It was Friday afternoon and I was at the Home Depot with a list of supplies Andy had given me for the wake. The whole idea of a live wake still irked me, but there was no talking him out of it. Marta had told me it was pretty common for those who were dying to want to say goodbye. I understood that, but calling it a wake seemed so morbid. But that was Andy: he wanted to be remembered.

He and Em were spending the day together, and for once I’d felt like a third wheel, which was why I’d jumped at the chance to do his last-minute shopping. Watching the two of them together was hard, especially when he was so sick. I could see how much he loved her, and I could see how much she was hurting. I so badly wanted to be the one comforting her.

I left Home Depot with everything Andy had asked for. It was still pretty early, and I wasn’t ready to head back home just yet. I spied a Starbucks across the road and made my way over.

Sitting down with my coffee, I pulled out my phone just as it began to ring. My heart sank as the name flashed across the screen. It was Deb. She hadn’t called for a couple of days. I felt so bad about lying to her. She had to be freaking out; her son was dying, and she had no idea where he was. How was that fair?

Before I realized what I was doing, I’d pressed answer. I held the phone to my ear and struggled to think of words to say that would make up for this.

“Seth? Is that you? God, please tell me he’s okay.” Deb’s voice broke as she began to cry.

My heart pounded. I was angry at myself, and angry at Andy for putting me in this position. “Deb, he’s okay. I’m sorry, he begged us to take him . . . I’m sorry.” Who cared if I was sorry? It didn’t fix things. It didn’t give her more time with her son.

“How is he?” She wept.

“He’s deteriorated. Some days he’s better than others.” It felt odd saying that, considering he didn’t have very long left. Somehow, I knew the better days were behind him now. I could only see things getting worse from here, but I didn’t want Deb driving upset.

“Oh, God.”

“He has a nurse looking after him, but he really needs more.” I hesitated. “He needs a doctor, or a hospital, but he won’t. You know how stubborn he is.”

“Please tell me where you are, Seth. Please, I need to see him. I need to say goodbye.”

I closed my eyes. I so badly wanted to keep my promise to him, but if he died without Deb getting the chance to say farewell, I’d never forgive myself. I had no idea what to do.

“Please, Seth. I’m begging you,” she pleaded.

“Millicent Beach,” I mumbled. “22 Standbury Lane. He’s having a wake tomorrow.” I didn’t mention it was fancy dress.

“A wake?” She gasped. “Oh, God, thank you, Seth. Thank you so, so much.”

I hung up. Had I done the right thing? He would probably hate me, but no more than I’d hate myself if I hadn’t told her. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly six in the evening. She wouldn’t get here until tomorrow afternoon, even if she left now.

There was no point in telling him today.

***

As I walked through the kitchen, I saw Em lying down out on the deck. Grabbing two sodas, I went out. She looked up as I approached. She smiled, her eyes red and swollen.

“How is he?” I asked.

“Not great.” She reached for the soda I held out to her and set it down beside her. “He finally let Marta call for a doctor.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the unopened can in my hands. That meant things were bad.

“Are you okay?” I said.

She shuffled over as I climbed onto the cream-colored frilly cushion beside her.
Of course she isn’t okay.
I closed my arms around her as she sobbed into my chest. My fingers gently stroked her hair as my lips brushed over her forehead.

***

We stayed out on the deck for the next hour. She had fallen asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her because I knew that she hadn’t been sleeping well. I studied her face. Her eyes were closed, the faintest of smiles present on her lips. Was she dreaming about Andy? Whatever it was, at least for a moment she would be happy.

I glanced inside. I could see Marta talking to a man in the kitchen. The doctor? It had to be. My stomach tightened. Things must be bad for Andy to have let her call the doctor. If anything, at least I felt as though I’d made the right decision in telling Deb. I just hoped she got here in time.

Em stirred and then rolled over. I gently eased my arm out from under her, covering her with a blanket. She snored softly and snuggled into the warmth. I stood up, careful not to wake her, and crept over to the door. Easing it open, I walked inside. Marta and the man both looked up.

“How is she?” Marta asked.

“Exhausted. Upset. About what you’d expect. How’s Andy?”

The look they exchanged said it all.
That bad.

“All we can do is make him comfortable,” Marta finally said. “This is Mike Alson. He’s a doctor in town. You . . . might want to call his family, Seth.”

“They’re already on their way,” I said. My mouth felt numb, like the words were sticking to them as I tried to force them out. “I might go check on him, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” she said. “He’s on morphine for the pain now. He might be pretty out of it.”

Walking into his room, I wasn’t prepared for just how bad he was. I sat down next to the bed and reached for his hand. He was so pale. Huge dark circles surrounded his eyes, and his cheeks were beginning to hollow.

At least he looks comfortable.

This was really happening: Andy was dying. There was no magical cure that was going to save him. He wasn’t going to get better. His time was up, whether we were ready to accept that or not.

I sat there, holding his hand until he suddenly squeezed it. My eyes jerked open and I saw him looking at me.
Shit, I must have fallen asleep.

“Hey man. You’re awake,” I said, sitting forward.

He tried to smile, but ended up having a coughing fit. “You need to look after her,” he mumbled. He could barely keep his eyes open, the call of sleep was so strong.

“Of course I will.”

“No, I want to know you’ll be there for her. Really be there for her. Don’t make me say it, man.”

“She doesn’t want me like that. It’s you that she loves. And you’re dying.”

“No, please, Seth. I need to know she will be okay,” he mumbled.

“I’ll look out for her. You know I’ll be there for her.”