Krissy: Got really nauseous again, I’m waiting for it to settle down.
Me: That sucks, anything you can do for it?
Krissy: More meds, but I am so tired of them.
Me: I don’t blame ya.
Arriving home, I walk straight into the kitchen and open the cabinet above fridge. I pull the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label down. I don’t drink that often, but right now I need to feel the burn as it hits my throat and goes down to my stomach.
Looking down at my phone I see the text from Grace.
Grace: You were right.
Well, no shit. I told her I know how guys are.
Me: You awake?
Grace: Yeah
Me: Meet me out front in fifteen minutes.
Grace: Ok
I set the bottle of whiskey down. I am glad it wasn’t much. I really needed to taste something beyond the ashes I have in my mouth.
Driving over to her house, I am still lost in my own mind. Somewhere in there I think of a dying girl and how unfair that is.
Pulling up in front of Graces house, I see her standing there in a fuzzy robe and PJ bottoms. Getting out of the vehicle, I leave the door open as I stride right up to her.
“What’s wrong, Max?”
I must have a look on my face. I don’t know what it is, I don’t know what I am feeling right now. So I do the one thing I can think of. I reach down and wrap my arms around her. Lifting her up, I hug her as tightly as I can.
“Oh.” She says quietly in my ear as I hold onto her.
Chapter Fourteen
Grace
Max hugs me for the longest time. We just stand here, on my parent’s front stoop. There are no words because there’s no comfort in them. At a time like this words are empty, hollow little things. Faint echoes of the things we’re really feeling.
There’s only comfort in touch, in the affirmation that we exist. We are more than pain and ache, grounded by touching another human being.
He needs me, and something inside me needs him to need me.
Once he’s done hugging me, we move to his car. I sit with him, beside him, just holding his hand and giving him my company. After some time, I try to invite him inside.
I tell him I could sneak him into my room and hide him under my bed if my parents came knocking. He declines and kisses me goodnight but there’s a glint of laughter in his eyes before he drives away.
Walking back inside, the house is quiet. Everyone is sleeping.
Quietly, I tiptoe my way to Hope’s room. She’s already kicked her blanket off, it’s lying on the floor in a heap. Picking her blanket up, I carefully draw it up, tucking it around her little body.
In her sleep she’s so beautiful, so peaceful. An angel in repose.
My chest aches at the thought of ever losing her, of someone or something taking her away. She’s my world. She’s my everything.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, I spend a good deal of my night just watching her, thanking whatever higher being that’s up there for giving her to me.