Chapter Twenty-Five

 

<><> Chris <><>

 

Waking up in the mornings without calling Donna first thing is getting easier. I’m realizing just what a stronghold she had over me, over every part of my day. It was like she was my keeper. If I wasn’t at the gym or at work, she was with me. Couldn’t have a moment’s peace to breathe and think some things through and she was always surrounded by drama. It’s not until now, since getting away from her, that I understand how much she was smothering me. I guess I always thought that’s how relationships worked. Seeing Kyle and Bettina operate, and now knowing Miriam, I realize that respect and freedom are necessary and positive. If a person loves you, they’ll let you be the best you can be no matter what, like having your own hobbies and shit too, not doing everything together every possible second. I know Miriam teaches piano and lifeguards to make money for school. I know there are guys at the pool in great shape who she hangs around and I know she’s still friends with that Ryan guy from Sacred Hills Academy. That stuff doesn’t even seem to bother me because I know she’ll be faithful and I trust her. And I know she trusts me. Trust. It’s a new thing for me.

It’s impossible for me to even think of another girl anyway. There’s no room in my head since it’s constantly filled with thoughts of Miriam’s face, her body, her laugh, her hair – this girl is all I can think about. Total distraction. Okay, so it’s not just the physical stuff either. It’s her mind. She makes me think about things I wouldn’t necessarily think about, asks me questions about politics, world events, education, like she values my opinion. No one’s ever done that before. She makes me feel smart, or like I have potential. I can’t wait to see her today. Have I ever felt this happy? Nope. Not even close.

Driving over to her place, I’m anxious to see how things are going with her mom. I left her alone all day yesterday, not calling, just giving her some space. I knew that if she wanted to call she would, but she didn’t. That tells me they needed some quiet time to sort things out. I’m sure everything’s fine.

Pulling up to the curb, I notice that all the blinds on the house are drawn and Mrs. Pritchard’s car is in the driveway. They’re here, but Miriam’s not answering her phone and it doesn’t look like they want any company. After spending such an incredible night with Miriam, it’s like I’m falling down the other side of a mountain after climbing up to the top, feeling victorious and positive and then having everything change in a blink. I feel shut out, avoided, rejected — but those are selfish thoughts because of all she’s going through.

Instead of knocking on the front door, I wander around to the back. We’re finished with the landscaping, aside from putting the cedar shingles on the gazebo. Other than that, it’s looking almost perfect. I stand assessing what to do next, holding myself back from knocking on the back sliding door or Miriam’s bedroom window. If she wants to come out, she will. She’ll know I’m here since my truck isn’t exactly discrete.

Minutes tick away as I make myself busy. It’s taking everything in my power not to call her again; everything in my power to restrain myself from being needy. When Miriam slides the back patio door open and steps out, I can tell something’s wrong right away. Her eyes are red from crying and she won’t look me straight on. I drop the level and climb down the gazebo in record time, walking over to her with purpose. “What is it?”

She closes her eyes and her face contorts like she’s in pain. I reach out and pull her close, letting her sob against my chest, wanting to make things better.

“We got my mom’s blood test results yesterday. Her cancer hasn’t shrunk like we thought it would. It did the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it spread.” Miriam bursts into tears again and I hold her with everything I’ve got, waiting until she’s ready. “They can’t do anything for her anymore.” She sobs against my chest as I stroke her hair, trying to comfort her but not really sure how to do that. This is all new for me and it’s scary as shit. It would be so easy to finish this job and walk away, carry on with my simple, uncomplicated life. But I know that’s impossible now. I don’t want to walk away from Miriam or her mom. I want to help.

“I know you’re worried about your mom,” I whisper in her ear. I’m afraid to take her mind there, but I get the feeling she wants to talk about it. “I’m sure they can do something. What about another round of chemo?”

Miriam pulls away and wipes her tears with her hand, straightening. “No, Chris, I don’t think you understand. Her cancer is terminal. She’s dying. She doesn’t have much time left.”

Her words hit me like a hammer. I stay quiet, not sure what to say. I can’t fix this. Miriam stands within arms length, but it’s as if she’s miles away. Her eyes search the ground, lost in thought.

“I’m so sorry, Miriam. I’m here for you.”

She looks up, holding my serious stare. “Thanks.”

For some reason, I get the feeling she doesn’t believe me. It’s as if she’s backing away from me, backing away from what we’ve started. Miriam smiles and turns to go back in the house, shutting the door quietly and leaving me standing in the backyard like I don’t belong here. There’s a definite void between us and the urge to punch something grows with each second that passes. “Please don’t pull away from me,” I say out loud, but she’s already gone.