Lilly
It’s a cool evening in the mid-fifties, hence the blanket that one of the nurses handed me not long ago. I’m waiting in the lobby where I know Boone will enter after he parks. I asked him to text me when he arrived.
When he walks through the door, his eyes land right on me. I do a quick survey of his body language and expression. He just came off a painful loss to the Wildcats in game five at home and I’m not sure exactly what that means to him. I haven’t had the chance to be a good hockey girlfriend because I’m so consumed with Aiden. I don’t know if the end of their playoff run is something to be deeply mourned. I don’t know if he’ll be angry or withdrawn. I have no clue how to support him, but all I know is that I want my arms around him right now.
I jog the distance between us, throwing my arms over his shoulders. He embraces me, lifts me from the floor and buries his face in my neck.
“How are you?” I ask.
“How’s Aiden?” he asks at the same time.
Our heads pull apart and we can’t help but smile at each other. “I’m so sorry about the loss,” I murmur, still dangling from the ground. “I don’t know the right words to say because I’m not sure what this means to a professional hockey player. I have no clue if you’re hurting and want to vent, or if you’d rather not talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says as he lowers me to my feet. “But not because it’s difficult or anything. I mean… it sucks and I’m bummed just like everyone else on the team. But for me, it’s forgotten. All that matters is Aiden and you going forward.”
I stare at him in disbelief because he’s shortchanging his feelings to accommodate mine. “No. Surely there’s more to it than that.”
Boone cups one of my cheeks. “In ordinary circumstances, yes. I’d be a big wallowing baby and want to rage and rant to you. But Lilly… these aren’t ordinary circumstances and so I’m letting this loss go. I’m letting this hockey season go. Maybe I’ll reflect on it in a few days but when I left the hospital this morning, Aiden wasn’t doing well, and I’ve honestly been going out of my mind wondering how the day went. So can we go somewhere and get caught up? I’m assuming Aiden’s sleeping?”
I encircle his wrist and pull his hand from my face before winding our fingers together. “Come with me.”
Boone doesn’t say anything but follows me through the maze of halls on the ground level that will take us to the courtyard where we held Aiden’s birthday party. It’s almost midnight and there won’t be anyone there. I know this because I’ve come down some nights in the early morning hours and it’s usually deserted, save for the lone physician or nurse who needs a little alone time.
When we enter, I can tell we’re the only ones here despite the winding path that meanders through the almost quarter-acre outdoor area. There’s a calming sense of aloneness. I lead Boone over to a small patch of fresh spring grass and spread the blanket. Without hesitation, he goes to his knees and beckons me down with him. Boone reclines and I curl into his side, staring at the stars above. My hand absently rubs his breastbone as I take a very quiet moment to be present with this man.
“So, how’s Aiden?” Boone asks, his arms wrapped tight around me. I hear the tension in his voice… a question that must be asked but he doesn’t really want the answer.
I bite into my bottom lip, worrying about the logistics of what I’m about to lay on Boone’s doorstep. He’s had an awful night and I’m going to make it a million times worse. “It’s not good,” I finally say.
That spurs Boone to sit up, lifting my body until he can gently set me beside him. His gaze upon me is wild. “What do you mean?”
I told myself I’d be strong when I had to deliver this to Boone but tears flood my eyes. Boone reaches for me but I put my hand on his chest and shake my head. “Don’t. If you hold me I’ll lose my shit and I can’t do that right now. I’ve got to tell you some things.”
Reluctantly, Boone’s hands fall away and I rub hard at my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I blink away the remaining sting and focus my attention on this man I love. “It’s dire… the situation with Aiden.”
He swallows hard and his voice is rough. “Like, how dire?”
I glance away for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to relay what Dr. Yoffe told me when he stopped by around six tonight. Bringing my gaze resolutely back to Boone, I give him the facts first. “He’s got sepsis. X-rays show immense progression of the pneumonia, which means it’s not responding to the antifungals. His lab work shows his kidneys and liver are really struggling, an indication they’re just not getting enough blood and oxygen. He’s on full oxygen and still struggling to breathe. He won’t eat or drink. He can barely walk because he’s so weak and all he does is sleep. He’s running a consistent fever that they can’t lower.”
“Well, Jesus Christ… they need to try new medicines,” Boone snaps.
I’d chastise him but I said almost the same thing to Dr. Yoffe just hours ago. I give Boone the answer I was given. “There’s nothing else to give him. He’s getting everything that he should and it’s not working.”
“Not working. What does that even mean?”
The tears come back and I can’t blink them away. A sob erupts and I swallow it. “It means it’s in God’s hands now.”
“That doesn’t tell me shit,” Boone says angrily even as his hands go to my face to wipe my tears.
“Dr. Yoffe says it’s unlikely that he’s going to recover.”
“No, no, no, no,” Boone barks as he jumps up from the blanket. “Bullshit. They can’t give up on him.”
“They’re not giving up,” I rush to assure him, pushing to my feet. He backs away from me, a hand rubbing at his jaw. “It’s just… there’s nothing else they can do to treat him. They’ve done everything.”
“So is he going to die?” he demands. “Is that what you’re avoiding saying to me?”
“They won’t say that. Only that there’s nothing else medically that can be done to treat the pneumonia or stop the sepsis. They want to talk to him tomorrow. We have some decisions to make, like if he wants supportive care.”
“Supportive care?”
“A feeding tube put in. A respirator to help him breathe because he’ll need one eventually.”
“Jesus fuck,” Boone moans, bending at the waist and gripping his hair with his hands. I feel like I’m watching a movie about how this all played out mere hours ago when Dr. Yoffe sat down with me in one of the conference rooms. I was in flat-out denial. I raged at him. I asked stupid questions, and then better questions. I cried and demanded a second opinion, then asked more questions. I apologized for my behavior and then let him hug me when acceptance started to set in.
Boone straightens, his eyes focusing on me, and I can tell the exact moment when he realizes that I’m feeling every bit of the helplessness, anger and sorrow that he is right now.
“Christ, I’m sorry, baby,” he says as he jerks me against him. One arm wraps around my waist, the other hand goes to the back of my head and he holds me tight while burying his face into my neck. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know how you’re even standing straight right now. You’re so fucking strong and I’m here falling apart.”
“I fell apart earlier,” I say as I squeeze him in return. “And I’m getting ready to fall apart again… right now. I’ll probably do it a million times.”
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, and I start crying. “I got you always. Lean on me. I got you.”
He murmurs the same words of support as I sob out my rage and agony. I feel his tears wetting my skin as we hold each other, and I wonder how I’d ever survive this on my own. The only thing that’s giving me some measure of strength is having Boone at my side.
I’m not sure how long we stand there hugging each other but when we finally pull apart, I feel numb. I know that won’t last long but for now, it’s a blessing.
Eventually, we head back to Aiden’s room. He’s sleeping soundly under a pile of blankets. He’s been having a hard time staying warm so under all those layers he has on flannel pajamas, thick socks and a warm knit cap. I hope he’s dreaming of beautiful things because tomorrow I have to sit down with my brother and tell him he’s dying. I don’t even know how to go about doing that, but I know I’ve got Dr. Yoffe who will help and Boone by my side. My dad’s a crapshoot as he fell apart after we talked to Dr. Yoffe today. He left the hospital and I’ve got no doubt he probably went to find a drink. That’s just not something I can worry about yet.
“You should head home and get some sleep,” I tell Boone.
He gives me a look that says, Dumb idea.
Boone makes up the recliner with sheets, blanket and pillow before settling into it and motioning for me to join him. I drop onto his lap and he extends us into a supine position, pulling a blanket over us. He’s on his back and I’m on top of him, neither one of us comfortable but honestly, there’s no place I’d rather be right now.
I don’t quite manage to fall asleep. I doze and startle throughout the night. Boone seems to always be awake, his hand petting my hair or rubbing my lower back. In low, soothing tones he tells me that everything’s going to be okay and to go back to sleep. I close my eyes again and again, not able to let myself fall under for fear my dreams will be nightmares of Aiden’s death.
When the sun rises and the room starts to lighten, I lift my head to find Boone wide awake and staring at me.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ve got you always.”
“I’m so lucky to have you. I love you.”