Secret for a Song (21 page)

Z
ee’s
mom and dad had been invited too, so I drove behind Zee’s yellow car. She sat
in the backseat, turning and waving at me at regular intervals, as if she was a
little kid instead of a twenty-two-year-old being given a ride. I laughed every
time she did it, and finally, I began to cry quietly, tears leaking down my
face.

This
whole thing felt like a drawn-out goodbye. Not just to Pierce, but to Zee, to
her parents, to Drew, to this whole other life I’d constructed for myself. I
couldn’t believe that tomorrow I’d be back to being the fucked-up girl with
Munchausen, being sent away because not even her own parents could tolerate her
insanity.

Pierce’s
apartment was a little larger on the inside than I’d expected, but even so, it
was crammed with people of every age, gender, and sexual orientation. There
were a lot of younger people from the gay community—probably Pierce’s friends—but
a good number of people were older women too, there to support Pierce’s mom.

There
was a line snaking up to Pierce’s hospital bed, which was set up in the living
room. I couldn’t see him from where I stood, near the front door, because of
the huge clot of people in front of me.

“Wow,”
I said. “He’s popular.”

Zee
was sitting in a chair beside me, Pierce’s present in her lap. She smiled.
“Yeah. He’s always had that about him, you know? That charisma.”

I
had to bend down to hear her in the din of people. I wouldn’t think I’d like so
many people milling around me when I was sick and hovering on life’s edge. But it
was probably different for everyone. Maybe it felt comforting to some to have
the voices of the people you loved most echoing in your ear, escorting you from
one plane of existence to the next so you didn’t feel like you were making the
journey alone.

I
felt someone touch the back of my head and turned around to find Drew.

“Hey
you.” He smiled at me, a tender, soft smile that made it seem like the blue in
his eyes was warm velvet. His guitar hung off his back.

“Hey.”
I had to look away because I felt my own eyes begin to tear up.

From
the looks of him, the thought of what was coming later didn’t bother him or
worry him even slightly. It made me sick that he was so trusting, so sure that
whatever I had to tell him wouldn’t influence how he felt for me at all. I
wondered briefly if I was ruining him for every other woman he’d meet from here
on, but then I shut down that train of thought. I couldn’t go down that road—it
was too painful. Everything about it hurt, from thinking about him with other
women to thinking about his trust being broken because of me.

Zee’s
mom offered him a chair, but he brushed her off with a wave of his hand. “No,
I’m all right. Thank you, though.”

The
line to see Pierce moved forward a bit, and we stepped forward accordingly.
Zee’s dad didn’t want her getting up, so he just pushed her chair forward while
she sat in it. She laughed. “Thanks, Daddy.”

He
kissed the top of her head and turned to talk to a man behind him.

“So
what have you girls been up to today?” Drew asked, his free hand on the small
of my back.

“Your
girlfriend helped me paint the most depressing picture ever,” Zee said.

Drew
raised his eyebrow questioningly, and I shook my head. “It wasn’t depressing.
It was beautiful and symbolic.”

“Pierce’s
gift,” Zee explained, holding up the gift-wrapped box that contained the
painting. “I thought it’d be nice for him to have something he could look at
while he spends all day on that bed.”

The
people talking to Pierce laughed at something he’d said, the sound jarring in
the room full of solemn-faced, murmuring people. Finally they parted. It had
been a big group, and it was our turn next.

When
I saw Pierce, I stared. It wasn’t a conscious decision, of course, it just
happened. I couldn’t believe the way he’d wasted away since the last time I’d
seen him without his outdoor jacket on. Even since just the other night at TIDD
group.

He
was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, but it looked like the clothes were
just lying there on the mattress without anyone inside them. His face was pale,
gaunt, even more so than Zee’s, and I had had no idea that could be possible.
His eyes jutted out from his head, the skin beneath sunken and shadowed. When he
smiled, it looked like his entire face consisted of nothing but his eyes and
his mouth.

“Hey
guys.” His voice was like a sheet of paper, rustling in the wind. “Thanks for
coming.”

“Don’t
be silly,” Zee said, thrusting the box toward him. She was still sitting in her
chair, her parents behind her. When she realized Pierce was in no position to
take the present, she got flustered, and set it down by his feet. Then she
blinked furiously. “This is fucked up, dude,” she said, her voice cracking.
“You weren’t supposed to go first. You promised me.”

I
looked at her, surprised. I’d known that Pierce and Zee were friends, but I
hadn’t realized that they were such close friends. I wondered if it was similar
to what people experienced when they lived overseas.

I’d
heard of people of the same nationality forming insta-bonds when they lived outside
of their own country, because being from the same culture bonded them together.
It gave them common ground on which to base their friendship, even though they
may never have been friends had they met in their home countries.

Would
Pierce and Zee have crossed paths if they hadn’t both been diagnosed with
terminal illnesses? He was gay, the son of a first generation immigrant from
China, and poor. She was an upper middle class Jewish girl from suburbia. I
wondered if they’d ever have connected under other circumstances.

I
guessed staring down an approaching tsunami would make it so you grabbed on to
the person next to you, no matter who it happened to be. And maybe by the time
the tsunami came to take them first, you’d be so attached you’d wish it took
you instead.

Pierce’s
lips twisted, his eyes roving her face. “Sorry, sis,” he said. “I tried. I
really did.”

She
leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, the most tender I’d seen her
since I’d first met her. When she straightened back up, I saw she’d left tears
on Pierce’s forehead. He didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t mind.

“That’s
that stupid painting you like so much,” Zee said, touching the box. “I’ll have
my dad put it up before we leave tonight.”

Pierce
nodded.

Zee
stood up and walked away to talk to Pierce’s mom and her parents followed,
after a quick word and a pat on the arm.

Drew
sat in the chair she’d vacated, and I remained standing, feeling exceedingly
awkward and out of place. I shouldn’t be here. I should’ve told Drew already.

“I’m
ready to play, man,” he said. “Any songs you want me to add to the list?”

Pierce
shook his head. “Thanks, man.” He smiled at me. “Thanks for coming, Saylor.
Take care of this guy for me.”

I
nodded, feeling like a liar, like a monster in girl’s clothing.

D
rew
played songs I’d never heard before. Some of them were melancholy, the kind of
songs I’d want played at my end-of-life party if I ever had one. The others
were more upbeat, sort of a sendoff into the other life and a rejoicing of
Pierce’s life in this realm. Once or twice as Drew was playing, I heard the
words slur just a bit as his tongue tried to get around them. But he kept
going, and I wondered if it had just been my imagination.

When
he was done, everyone clapped. I went up to help him with his guitar because I
could see that he was getting tired. I wondered if he’d shoo me away, tell me
he could handle it like he’d done the day before at his house, but he smiled at
me and let me help him. It worried me a little, that he accepted help so
readily. Maybe he was sicker than I’d realized.

People
were still milling in and out of Pierce’s apartment. Even with the door open
and it being about fifteen degrees outside, I began to feel like I couldn’t
breathe. The night was coming to a close, at least for Drew and me, and I knew
that meant I had to tell him what I’d promised to tell him. I felt like someone
had tied a rope around my waist and was pulling the knot tighter and tighter.
Black spots began to accumulate at the corner of my vision. I tapped Drew on
the arm and he turned to look at me. He’d been talking to someone about his
songs.

“Sorry,”
I said. “But I need some air.”

He
put his hand to my cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m
fine,” I said, trying to smile for his benefit. In my head, I saw the rope get
even tighter, blood beginning to seep from my waist onto its white cotton.
“Come downstairs for a moment when you’re done here, okay?”

He
shook his head. “I’m done now.” Then he grabbed my hand with his free one and
we made our way through the crowd.

In
the elevator, he kept sneaking glances at me, but I was concentrating on
breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. The two women in there
with us kept up a steady commentary on Pierce’s condition.

“He
looked awful, didn’t he?” The older woman with white pin curls asked her
younger companion. “Just awful.”

“My
heart just breaks for his poor mother,” the youngish one in a bright pink
jacket with matching boots replied. “She’s the one I’m worried about, really.
No husband, and a dying child.”

The
elevators yawned open and I stepped off and headed outside the building, not
wanting to wait for Drew. I couldn’t hear any more about Pierce. I couldn’t
think about the burden all of them bore—Drew, Zee, her parents, Jack, his
parents, Pierce and his mom—and how they’d invited me into their circle without
question, without the slightest hint of doubt in their eyes.

I
stood on the sidewalk outside, my hands stuffed into my pockets, watching the
sparkling asphalt. The black ice was like diamonds under the lampposts. The
women exited, still chattering sixty miles per hour, not even looking at me as
they walked to their cars. Drew was next. He stood beside me, looking out
toward the highway. Our breath came out in short puffy clouds, then dissipated
right before me into nothing.

The
moment stretched out. I could feel it pressing against my ears, my nose, trying
to wriggle its way into my mouth. I had to say something. I had to get it out
somehow.

“I’m
leaving,” I said. “I’m going to North Carolina.”

Drew
exhaled, just a sharp thrust of air straight from his lungs into the night air,
a near-silent exclamation point. He turned to me, very slowly. “Can we sit
down?”

I
blinked, trying to understand his question. “Oh, um, yeah. Of course.” I led
the way to a bench on the side of the building and we sat down. The cold seeped
into my jeans and clung to my skin.

“Just,
you know, if you’re breaking up with me, I’d like to be sitting for it.” He
pushed a hand through his hair, his eyes glistening.

“No,
I’m not—” I put my hand on his thigh, but he just kept his eyes on me, steady,
unblinking. My chest actually hurt, as if my heart was literally shattering in
there, the pointy edges jabbing into my ribs, leaving scars on the inside that
would never heal. “I don’t want to break up with you. It’s not my decision to
go. But...I think it’s best.”

“Wait.
It’s not your decision? So whose decision is it?” The muscle in his jaw twitched.
He was mad, trying to hold it in.

This
conversation wasn’t going like I’d planned. I needed to haul it back on track,
back to me, to the lie I’d told. I rubbed my hands together; my fingers were
numb from the cold. Why hadn’t I brought gloves? “My dad’s, but it’s—”

“That’s
bullshit. You’re an adult. He can’t make you go if you don’t want to.” He
tapped his cane on the ground as he talked, to punctuate his words.

“Yes,
he can, actually. I don’t have any money. And he won’t let me live at their
place anymore, he won’t support me. You’re right, Drew, I’m an adult, which
means my dad doesn’t have to pay for my meals or my housing like he is right
now.” I shrugged. “That’s his prerogative. So I’m choosing to go to school.
It’ll be good for me anyway, to get on with my education.”

Drew
scooted closer to me on the bench. We sat facing each other, his thighs
bookending mine on either side. He set his cane down and took my hands in both
of his. Warmth seeped back into my skin; feeling returned. “Move in with me.”

Of
all the things I’d imagined coming out of this talk tonight, it wasn’t that. My
heart plunged into the depths of my body because I knew what it must’ve taken
for him to offer this, and what it was going to take for me to refuse.

“What?”

“Move
in with me,” Drew said, softer. He put his hands on either side of my face. My
hands, which only moments ago had been ensconced in his, so sure of their
place, were now suspended in the air without purpose. “I love you, Saylor. I
love you more than I’ve loved anyone, ever. I don’t want you to go to North
Carolina. Okay? That’s too far away. And maybe that’s selfish for me to say.
Maybe the right thing to say would be, ‘Go. Go get your education.’ But I’m
selfish. I need you here with me. And I can see it in your face that you want
to be here with me.”

He
kissed me, all of his yearning, all of the love, pouring out through his mouth
and into mine, until I could barely breathe, until all I was aware of were his
lungs, pushing life into mine.

“Stay,”
he whispered.

I
stared into his eyes, the blue and flecks of glowing silver all-consuming. It
seemed I could see the whole world in there, everything I’d ever wanted to see
all compressed into those two circles. How easy it would be, to simply slip
into this life I’d made for myself. I could shed my old life, my old sick,
diseased life, like a snake molts its skin, leaving behind what doesn’t fit
anymore to take on something new and fresh. My life with Drew, it could be what
I’d been dreaming of since that night he kissed me outside Sphinx. It could be.
All it would take would be swallowing one lie I’d told, making an excuse for
the strange case of the disappearing MS.

My
head hurt, it throbbed with the weight of those decisions. “I don’t know,” I
whispered. “I don’t know.”

“Then
take tonight to think about it.” He kissed me again. “Don’t say anything
tonight. Just come with me. Okay? Just come to my apartment. Sleep on it.”

After
a pause, I nodded. I was so tired. Maybe I could take tonight off. Just not
think about everything. Just one more night of blissful quiet, of peace. That’s
all. In the morning, I’d rally again. I’d tell Drew for sure. In the morning.

Hand
in hand, we walked to my car. Hand in hand, we drove to Drew’s place.

That
night, we didn’t make love. I got into his bed fully clothed, and he got in
beside me, curling his body around mine, as if he wanted to absorb all the
thoughts I had of going away. He stroked my hair, going over my temple, down my
cheek, to the place where my neck and shoulder joined. He did that over and
over again. I closed my eyes, letting his warmth steal over me, steal my
anxiety away. It was going to be okay. In the morning, it would all be okay.