Twenty-One
Gavin
The weekend flew by quickly, with nights spent at the bar beside Ron and afternoons by Mom’s side. I didn’t want her to spend a single day alone, despite her constant assurance that she was fine, and it seemed that Karen felt the same way. There was always someone within a foot of Mom, waiting for her to fall or to choke on pudding or throw a shake at the wall as she grew angry and tired. Karen wanted her comfortable, and I wanted her healthy, and it was obvious that Mom was annoyed at our constant presence.
I woke at my normal time the following Monday with no plans in particular other than visiting Mom. I briefly wondered if she would give me a disappointed stare and slam the door in my face, or if she even had the energy for it. We spent Saturday afternoon discussing my writing over lunch, and she convinced me to write a short story. It would be a detective caper with a happy ending, and I wanted to finish it within the next month at the latest.
I mulled over the plot as I stepped into my gym and spent an hour lifting weights in between cardio. I had the entire first half finished by the time I was done, and I used a voice recording app on my voice to detail the book as I hopped into the shower and washed off the sweat. Mom would like the idea; I was sure of that at least.
I clothed myself and walked toward the kitchen with the intent of making a protein shake before leaving for Mom’s house. Something caught my eye on the couch, and I walked in front of it.
The gray blanket that I had covered Maddie’s sleeping body still remained on the couch, and I gently picked it up and folded it in my arms. I sniffed it, expecting it to smell like her hair, but it didn’t smell any differently than the rest of my house. I was disappointed for some reason and shoved back into the storage that I removed it from. Of course, it wouldn’t smell like her.
I grabbed a notebook full of story ideas and walked over to Moms. The volume on the TV was loud, and I had to cover my ears as I looked for the remote to turn it off.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” Mom said as she left the bathroom. I peeked around the corner to find Karen standing in the kitchen wiping the inside of the microwave.
“You wouldn’t hear the apocalypse with that volume,” I said and hugged her. “Is it really necessary to listen to Days of Our Lives with the volume all the way up?”
“You know my hearing is shit,” she said. We both took a seat on the couch. “And before you say anything, no, I am not going to get a hearing aide.”
I surveyed Mom. Her cheeks were thinner, bags beneath her eyes, and what was left of her hair was in some sort of greased clump on the top of her head. She swayed slightly as we both took a seat on the couch, and I realized that she was gripping the edge of her seat with weak fingers.
“You might like a hearing aide,” I said. She had stopped wearing her thin-framed glasses days ago, saying they were too uncomfortable to bother with. The past week she developed a sudden need to just be comfortable.
“You and I both know I would hate it,” she said. “Now, are you going to show me what’s in that notebook?”
I glanced at the paper notebook tucked away in my arm.
“If you’re not feeling okay,” I started, but she shook her head.
“I’m fine. Tell me about your stories and ideas, Gavin. The only reason I woke up today was to hear them.” She settled against the couch’s cushions and patted the spot beside her.
“Okay,” I murmured, not wanting to dwell too much on her words. I scooted next to her and opened the notebook. “So, it’s a detective story.”
“I know, I picked it,” she said. I smiled.
“About a man traveling home to his brother’s funeral,” I said. “But when he gets there, he gets a letter from his brother telling him that he’s still alive, and the man has to follow three clues to find his brother.”
“What about the funeral?” she asked. “Doesn’t the man see his brother’s body?”
I shook my head. “It’s closed casket, gun to the head,” I said.
“And the end?” she asked. “Does he find him?”
I watched as she poured through my notes before taking them away from her.
“I guess you’ll just have to read it and find out,” I said. Mom’s smile dimmed. “I already started on the first chapter. It won’t take me long, I promise.”
Her frail hand wrapped around my wrist, and I nearly gasped. It was cold as if she were already a corpse, and so light that I could barely feel any strength behind it.
“I’m getting worse, Gavin,” she said. “I can’t walk, can barely stand, and I can’t eat anything. The light hurts, and the dark gives me a headache.”
“We’ll go see Dr. Lemonis tomorrow,” I said. “He’ll get you some medicine.”
“No, Gavin,” she sighed. “I’m not getting better. It’s weird, I never thought I’d say this, but I can feel my life shortening. I don’t have much longer.”
“You had six months,” I said. “It hasn’t even been half of that yet.”
“The doctor was being kind; he said that was the most I had,” she said with a sad smile. “But maybe I will make it the rest of the six months.”
“What do you want?” I asked. “Do you want to go anywhere? Have anything delivered?” I moved to face her. “Anything, Mom.”
She closed her eyes and nodded before looking at me.
“I really like Maddie,” she said. I frowned, not understanding what Maddie had to do with anything.
“Me too,” I said.
“I’ll get to the point; do you think she’s the one?” she asked. I opened my mouth and closed it. I hadn’t even thought of Maddie since I arrived, but I should have known Mom would eventually get to this topic. I wanted to see her happy at least.
“You’ll be at the wedding,” I said. “You’ll be in a gown of your choosing, and you’ll see Maddie in the most beautiful white wedding dress.”
“You can’t plan a wedding in six months,” Mom said. “You can barely plan one in a year.”
I saw her words as a challenge. “I’ll ask her tomorrow night,” I said. “I’ll ask her to marry me, we’ve already talked about it enough, and if she says yes, we’ll have the wedding this weekend.”
“You’ll plan a wedding for this weekend?” Mom raised an eyebrow. “Gavin, do you have any idea how impossible that is?”
I grinned. “Nothing is impossible, Mom.”
She nodded, and then a smile spread across her face, one that I hadn’t seen in years. “Ask her,” she said. “Ask her, and then come straight here so we can start planning.”
There was a spark of light in the back of her dull eyes, just a small flame that was beginning to burn brightly as Mom thought more and more about the wedding. It’s a look I hadn’t seen since my father passed, and at that moment I knew I would do whatever I had to in order to get Maddie to marry me. Well, fake marry.
“It’s time for your bath,” Karen said from the hallway. Mom groaned.
“You can’t leave me to my happiness for another few minutes?” she asked, but Karen shook her head. I smiled, knowing that Karen was set in her routine.
“Take your bath,” I said. “I have some planning to do.”
“Don’t forget to write that book,” Mom reminded me.
“You’re giving me a lot of things to plan,” I said and shook my head. “I’ll come see you before dinner tomorrow.”
“Don’t bother,” she said. “Call me the next morning and tell me everything.”
We said our goodbyes and I returned home. I closed the door behind me, wondering if I just put my foot in my mouth. Propose to Maddie already? I wasn’t worried that she’d say no, this was a part of our agreement, but even she would be surprised at the abruptness.
I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.
“Am I being summoned?” she asked as she answered.
“For a dinner tomorrow night,” I said. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
“From my place?” she asked. “You actually want to come over this time?”
“I’ll pick you up outside your apartment,” I said. “And you have to be dressed up. Like, really dressed up, for pictures.”
“Pictures?” Her voice lifted. “What kind of pictures?”
“Fancy ones. Celebratory ones. Just be ready at six, okay?” I hung up, knowing full and well that she was probably cursing my name.
I sat in my office and pulled out my laptop with the intent to write. I got maybe a sentence down before hitting writer’s block, and instead pulled up my browser.
I typed in three words, last minute weddings, and clicked search. The first page of results were more scams than anything, including a few ads for mail-order brides. I groaned.
This wasn’t going to be easy.