Tyler
Ashton and I stay out on the porch swing for a while longer, catching up on lost time. After I’ve just finished telling Ashton about my interview with Chase Henderson and how I was invited back to his place—sorry, a palace because a palace is the only way to describe it—to finish the interview that had been cut short the previous week before, the front door opens, and Dad walks onto the porch, his green eyes searching.
He turns to find us on the porch swing, and immediately, I see his eyes go to the bottle of whiskey on the floor, a frown set on his lips.
“How is it that you’re both now in your thirties, yet you still keep swiping my good whiskey?”
We both snigger as he steps toward us with his hands deep in his pockets with a wily smile.
He points to the cigar in my hand that’s no longer burning. “Stealing my Cubans though, that is a first.”
“We were celebrating,” I say.
He leans against the railing and crosses his legs. We’re the spitting image of our dad. The same build and height, green eyes, and a matching smirk. The one thing that sets us apart is his protruding belly, caused by one too many beers and my mom’s incredible cooking. At almost seventy years old, he looks incredible for his age. Honestly, he doesn’t look a day over fifty.
“I’m disappointed you didn’t give me the heads-up, especially when whiskey is involved. Your mama is driving me crazy.” He takes the cigar from my fingers, and I hand him the lighter.
“She put you on the no-football ban before dinner again?” Ashton asks, humor dancing in his eyes.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbles around the Cuban in his mouth as he lights it up like a pro. “I’m just glad the Cowboys aren’t playing until later, or I’d be filing for divorce,” he jokes before taking a deep inhale of the cigar.
The mention of Mom reminds me of earlier and that god-awful cough she had.
“Hey, while we’re talking about Mom, is she okay? She has a pretty nasty cough. I’m worried she’s getting sick.”
It’s only for a split second, but I swear, his eyes dim with a darkness that looks almost foreign on him, but it quickly disappears as he takes another long puff of the cigar.
“She’s fine. She had a little chest infection but nothing antibiotics can’t fix.”
“You sure that’s all it is?” I just get the sense it’s more than that, and neither of them is letting on.
I’m sure it’s just my paranoia.
“Yes,” my dad states confidently.
And it’s enough to ease my suspicions.
“So, I see you boys have kissed and made up then,” he says looking between me and Ashton.
“We never fell out. We were just catching up,” I tell Dad.
“Well, you brothers should always stick together, especially in the worst of times. Family is too important not to lean on each other when you need it the most.”
I look at my brother and smile because Dad’s right. We should always stick together, through thick and thin.
Dad seems lost in thought before he blinks and clears his throat. “And that’s enough emotion for one day.” He breathes out a laugh, handing me back the cigar.
When it comes to emotions, I most definitely take after my dad. Even if the tiniest emotion breaks free, he’s always quick to set his armor back in place, usually with humor of some sort. Honestly, it’s really no surprise I’m as emotionally stunted as I am when I grew up with a man who taught us that boys didn’t show emotion.
“Anyway, your mama sent me to find you. Dinner will be ready soon, so you’d better finish up here.” He pushes from the railing and heads back inside but not before returning with an ashtray in hand thirty seconds later. “Make sure you put them out properly,” he instructs, handing the ashtray to Ashton.
I just about resist rolling my eyes at Dad’s comment. Ashton turns to me when Dad heads back inside a second time.
“How would you like to meet your niece before dinner? She should be up from her nap now.”
I nod, putting out the cigar in the ashtray Ashton is still holding. “I would love to.”
Ashton puts his cigar out, and we head back inside. I follow Ashton upstairs, toward his old bedroom, just as Ava exits with her three-year-old daughter, Lily-Mai, at her side while carrying whom I assume is Francesca in her arms.
Curious small eyes immediately spot Ashton, and the smile Francesca gives him is just too adorable for words.
“There are my sleepy girls,” Ashton greets, holding his arms out for Francesca.
Ava hands her to him before her eyes fall on me, a huge smile on her face. “Tyler!” She wraps me in a hug. She pulls away and looks up at me. “How are you? It’s been way too long since we last saw you.”
“I’m good. I’m sorry I haven’t said this sooner, but congratulations.” I kiss her on the cheek.
“Thank you.” As I step back, she blanches and sniffs a few times. “Why do I smell cigars and whiskey?”
Ashton sheepishly glances at her. “We were bonding,” is all he says, grinning at me, which earns him an eye roll from Ava.
I feel something tug against my jean leg and look down to see Lily-Mai, Ava’s daughter, trying to catch my attention.
“And who do we have here?” I ask, kneeling to her level, pretending I have no idea who she is.
“I’m Lily-Mai, silly,” she announces with a toothy grin, giggling.
“No way. The last time I saw Lily-Mai, she was only two,” I say, holding out two fingers.
“I’m thwee now,” she declares proudly, toying with the bottom of her dress.
“Really? Wow,” I exclaim animatedly. “Hey, tell me something. How’s it feel, being a big sister?”
She gives me a toothy grin. “I wike being a big sister, but she cwies, and it hurts my ears.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I bet,” I agree before I hold my arms out. “Are you going to give your uncle Tyler a hug?”
She goes all coy and hides behind Ava’s leg, clutching hold of her.
“Ah, man, you’ve gone all shy on me. You break my heart, baby girl.” I clutch my hand against my heart and shake my head as I return to my full height.
Ashton steps up to me, and I find myself unable to keep my eyes from Francesca. She’s beautiful. She looks every bit like Ava with her full lips, round cheeks, and perfect little nose, but I see she’s got the Bailey green eyes from her dad.
Her eyes latch on to me, and she stares at me, no doubt wondering who the hell I am, and I hate that I’m just some stranger to her. Well, that’s about to change.
“Tyler, meet your niece Francesca,” Ashton introduces me to her.
Already, my heart has melted inside my chest. I get what he meant when he said she has him wrapped around her finger because she’s too damn cute to ever tell her no. I don’t think there is anything I wouldn’t do for this little girl, and she’s been in my presence for only thirty seconds.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, gorgeous girl.”
My arms itch to hold her, and any forlorn feelings I thought I might have felt toward her simply don’t weigh in after seeing her for the first time.
As I look at my niece, all I feel is pure love.
“Do you want to hold her?” Ashton asks.
I hold my hands out with an eager smile. He hands her over to me, and I bring her to my chest. I instinctively press my lips to her head, unable to resist breathing in the sweet smell of her baby shampoo, before looking down at her, watching as her curious eyes roam over my face before she reaches her little hand out and grabs my nose.
I scrunch my nose up, laughing lightly under my breath. She then sucker-punches me in the mouth, and I playfully nibble at her hand. Then, she takes my breath away as she beams up at me with the cutest little smile.
And, now, I’m a goner.
“Do you think your daddy would let me keep you?” I whisper to her with humor but still loud enough for Ashton and Ava to hear.
“You can keep her when she’s screaming at three o’ clock in the morning,” answers Ava.
I wince and shake my head. “Yeah, she’s all yours for that. But, until I catch my flight, she’s all mine.”
“Flight? What flight?” Ashton inquires, frowning.
“Oh, yeah. Didn’t I tell you? I’m taking Mia to Punta Cana in the morning for six days. I got her tickets to see Maroon 5.”
Both he and Ava glance at each other, clearly impressed.
“Ava, normal people get their wives concert tickets within a fifty-mile radius. My brother, however, gets Mia a concert ticket in a whole other country,” he says to his wife. He turns his attention to me and claps me on the back. “You sure know how to pull out all the strings.”
“Well, she’s kind of worth it.”
And I can’t wait to spend six days in paradise with Mia in a red bikini.
An hour later, we’re sitting around the table in the dining room, stuffing our faces with turkey, mashed potatoes, and my mom’s special stuffing. It isn’t very often that we get the family all together in one room like this. I’m sitting with Ashton on one side and my dad on the other, who’s at the head of the table. Ava and Lily-Mai are beside Ashton and Jo, and Drew and Junior are opposite with my mom at the end of the table. Francesca’s in her travel playpen in the corner of the room, happily gazing up at her baby mobile.
I wish Mia were sitting here beside me, but I keep counting down the time until I get to pick her up.
Approximately two hours to go.
Conversation and laughter fill the room, and through the midst of Junior’s knock-knock jokes and my dad’s constant badgering on about some Cowboys game from the 1985 playoffs, my mom’s unusually quiet, simply watching us all. She’s barely touched her food, seemingly completely uninterested.
“Mom, are you okay?” I call out to the other side of the table.
She blinks, as if she’s a million miles away before looking at me. “Yeah, I’m fine, baby.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
I watch intently as she picks her fork back up, but instead of taking a scoop of mashed potatoes with the intent of eating it, she just plays around with it.
I look at Dad beside me, and even though he seems to be in a full-blown discussion with Ashton, I don’t miss the way his eyes keep flicking to Mom, concern and sadness deep within his stare.
Instantly, nausea sets in, and I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that something serious is wrong. However, not wanting to bring anything up at the dinner table, I stew in my internal worry, deciding that I will speak to Mom privately later on.
Once we’ve all finished dinner, Mom’s the first to stand up, and she picks up her plate. “Okay, so who wants dessert?” She stumbles in her steps, causing the plate to drop from her grip, and it goes crashing to the wooden floor along with her untouched food.
Jo’s immediately up on her feet as my mom falls back to her chair. “Alana, are you okay?” Jo asks, panic evident in her tone.
“I’m fine…ju-just a little dizzy,” my mom murmurs, her hand visibly shaking as she takes hold of the water and brings it to her mouth, taking a gentle sip.
“Mom, you don’t look too good,” Ashton points out.
It’s safe to say I’ve seen a ghost with more color.
Jo places her hand to Mom’s forehead, and worry lines crease her forehead. “You’re burning up. Maybe you should go lie down for a while,” she suggests.
My mom dismissively waves her hands in front of her. “N-no, I’m fi-fine,” she protests, short of breath, her final word turning into a cough. Her chest rattles as she continues to cough.
She tries to cover her mouth with her hand, but my heart goes into overdrive when I see blood coming from her mouth.
Jesus Christ!
Jo bundles a pile of napkins and hands them to her before she looks over to me with pure panic in her eyes. My eyes fall to Junior, and he looks just as terrified. This is more than a cough, and Junior shouldn’t have to see his grandma like this, not at seven years old. He’s had enough heartache in his life to witness this.
Like a mind reader, Jo looks to Drew and tells him, “Can you take Junior and Lily-Mai into the living room, please?” she asks as calmly as possible for the benefit of the kids, but I still hear the tremor in her words.
Drew’s up on his feet in an instant. “Come on, bud, let’s go put a movie on for Lily-Mai.” He rounds the table and picks Lily-Mai up out of her seat, setting her on his hip as they head into the living room.
Ashton’s out of his seat with his cell in his hand. “We need to call for an ambulance.”
“No!” Mom shouts, her voice hoarse. “I don’t need an ambulance.”
“Mom, you’re coughing up blood. We need to get you checked out,” he explains, beginning to dial.
“No!” she all but screams at the top of her lungs, initiating another coughing fit.
Crying from behind can be heard, and Ava rushes over to Francesca, picking her up. She cradles her to her chest, hushing her cries. She tells Ashton she’s heading upstairs with her before she leaves the pandemonium behind.
How the hell has Thanksgiving dinner suddenly turned into a motherfucking nightmare?
I look to my dad, and he’s the calmest of the lot of us, so calm that it brings chills to my spine.
“You need to tell them,” he tells Mom.
She nods, tears in her eyes.
“Tell us what?” Ashton and I chime at the same time.
Jo kneels down in front of her, wiping the tears that have fallen down my mom’s face. As if sensing the worst, Ashton falls back to his seat in a slump. It’s as if he’s preparing himself for the major blow that’s about to happen. I can just feel it.
Mom takes hold of Jo’s hand as she addresses the three of us and tells it to us straight, “I have stage four lung cancer.”
A haunting silence sets over us, and I don’t know if it’s possible, but I swear, I hear every heart in this room break into a million pieces.
“How? When?” I croak out when everybody else stays unspoken.
“I found out a few months ago. The doctors were hopeful that they caught it early enough, but it’s already spread to both lungs, my liver, and my bones,” she says regretfully, more tears falling down her face.
I feel my face twitching with a mixture of confusion and anger. “You’ve known for months, and you didn’t tell us?” I ask, my voice a little raised, as I’m unable to control the fury. I feel so fucking betrayed.
“I didn’t know how to, baby. You all had your own stuff to deal with. I didn’t want to pile on.”
“Oh, Alana,” Jo coos, clasping her hand around Mom’s.
Tension rises, and I grip the tendons at the back of my neck with a death hold.
“What’s the prognosis?” Ashton finally finds his voice. Like the good little doctor he is, he asks the right questions instead of firing off with anger like me.
“The doctors have told me I’ll be lucky if I make it to Christmas.”
My breath catches at the back of my throat, a sob erupting from my lungs.
This cannot be happening. I cannot lose my daughter and my mom in the same year.
Just when I felt like I was getting my life back on track, I get more fucking bad news. The catastrophic kind.
“There must be something they can do. Have you tried chemo or radiotherapy?” I’m clutching at straws, but I’m not stupid. I knew the minute she told us she had stage four lung cancer that it was game over.
“They offered those treatments, but that would have prolonged my life for only a few more months. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days in the hospital, attached to chemo wires that would only give me a few extra days. Instead, I wanted those last days to be with my family, enjoying what’s left of my life.”
The practical version of me understands her reasoning, but all logic has been replaced with a white-hot rage, my emotions skyrocketing.
“I don’t understand,” I grit out, barely holding on by a thread. “You’ve never smoked a day in your life. How can you have lung cancer?”
She shrugs her shoulders and offers a sad smile. “I don’t know, baby. It’s just life,” she says in a defeated whisper, her breathing labored.
“There has to be something…you can’t just…” I angrily bang my fist on the table when I’m unable to articulate the right words, feeling utterly fucking helpless.
Rough fingers touch my arm, and I turn to my left and look into my dad’s soulless eyes, filled with unshed tears.
“There’s nothing they can do, son.”
All of a sudden, I’m five years old again, and I’m watching my mom being rushed off in an ambulance after she almost sliced her finger off while making dinner. I remember screaming for my mom to come back, feeling as if it were the end of the world, and now, all those feelings are rushing back. She came back to me a few hours later, but the next time she leaves in an ambulance, there’s a high chance she might not be coming back.
Suddenly, I spring to my feet, causing the chair to fall back with my abrupt movement. I shake my head, unable to grasp the information from the past two minutes.
“This is bullshit!” I yell with frustration.
“Tyler,” Jo and Ashton chastise me in unison.
The walls feel like they’re closing in on me, and I quickly need out.
I can’t stay in here for a second longer.
“It’s too much. I can’t…” Unable to say another word, I start to rush out of the house, as if my ass were on fire.
The last thing I hear is my mom saying, “Let him go.”
Slamming the back door behind me, I head to the only place that I know will bring me the tiniest bit of solace.