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He takes my hand, leads me to my bed, and lets me take care of him the only way I know how right now.
—
We stand around her bed as we wait for the doctor to arrive. Kyle's arms are wrapped securely around me as he holds onto me, like I'm the only thing keeping him steady right now.
Two doctors enter the room, their faces giving nothing away.
Randy stands, puts his hand on Kyle's shoulder. Matt and Audra shuffle closer. But it's Diane I focus on. Her face looks peaceful for the first time in years. Whatever her fate, she's accepted it already.
They start talking about the tests they ran and then they're asking us to sit down. No one moves.
We all stay standing.
Mom grabs Diane's hand and Dad continues to lean against the wall for support.
Brain tumor.
Inoperable.
Incurable.
She has six months, at the most.
Chapter 40
I used to hate mornings. The birds singing as the horizon changes from black to navy to violet then tangerine. The sun glowing through the white blinds, stroking the room like a paintbrush in deep gold and burnt orange. Big, fluffy pancakes and melted butter and amber-colored syrup. The sound of bacon sizzling on the stove. The taste of coffee on his tongue as he wakes me with a kiss. My favorite things now.
Kyle flips a pancake as I sit at the table, watching his bicep flex with movement, his bare back muscles ripple and flex as he moves over to the frying pan, checks on the bacon. He takes a sip of black coffee before he looks my way.
“Stop checking me out,” he grins.
My cheeks flush and my mouth dries. “Stop walking around without a shirt on.”
I still can’t believe I’m living with him. In his apartment. His roommate, Joe, is in New York for some convention. Seems to be a regular occurrence because I’ve met him only once in the last few weeks. Kyle and I have the entire apartment to ourselves, and we’ve definitely taken advantage of it.
Um, if you know what I mean.
Kyle wanders over with a plate in hand, his grey sweatpants riding low on his hips. I try not to stare, but everything he does is so sexy and hot and maddening. Even making me breakfast. I think there’s something wrong with me because there’s a million problems and troubles and worries hanging outside the door but, in here, it’s like there’s only us. Just Kyle and me.
Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know.
My phone chimes as he sets the plate down in front of me. It’s Mom wondering what time I’ll be home today. I’ve been going home the last few Saturdays to relieve Randy and Mom and Matt for the afternoon. They’ve been taking turns babysitting Diane. She says she’s fine, that she doesn’t need someone watching over her. But she does.
She misses Kyle.
I should probably bring it up. Tell him they say Diane talks about him incessantly. I just don’t know how to. How do I tell him she won’t be around much longer, and she needs to see him?
“What time are you going to be home tomorrow?” Kyle asks as he sits down next to me, pancakes piled high on his plate.
“Probably around 3ish,” I say between bites. “Mom wants to go to breakfast. She’s not, uh, happy with me right now.”
Kyle frowns. “Why not?”
I take a sip of hot chocolate. “She’s pissed that I’m not going to be living in the dorms and that I’m working for you. She says she raised me to be an independent woman and not to rely on a man for housing and a paycheck.”
Yeah, about that. Kyle kind of talked me into living with him permanently instead of the dorms. I’m also working for him in the evenings at The Gallery. Mom flipped a lid when I told her. She got on her soapbox and passionately verbalized her disappointment in me. I wasn’t supposed to live with anyone until after college. Her exact words, and I quote, “You can’t just move out of your parents’ house and into your boyfriend’s apartment! You were supposed to live on your own, discover yourself, gain your independence."
I mean, fine, she has a point. I should probably be living on my own. But why would I live on my own when I get to wake up next to naked Kyle every single morning? And it's not like we see each other all that much. He spends most of his time preparing for shows while I'm making caramel lattes and espressos and buying books and getting ready for my first semester of college. Once school starts, Kyle and I will both be busy with classes and papers and tests. So what if I want to see him every day? She can just deal. Grandma Roma said Mom’s never even lived alone. She’s either lived at home, with a guy or with one of her sisters. So, can she really talk?
