There’s no cure.

That’s why she asked Dr. Evers how long she has before she’s past the point of no return. The point where the treatment no longer works and the only recourse is to keep her comfortable until the end.

“Kyle.” I wait for him to look up at me. “There’s something I need to do for your mom. I need your help.”

“Anything.”

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

When I come back into the kitchen, Kyle inspects the items I’m carrying, and instant understanding crosses his face. “In that case, I need your help with the same thing.”

I nod, so proud of the young man we’ve raised, and hand him the clippers. After I’m seated, I drape the towel around my shoulders. “Take it all off, please.”

With the clippers plugged in, he flips the switch and goes to work shaving my head. Grace faced all the pointing fingers, judging eyes, and hateful sneers alone when she was pregnant in high school—as much from her own parents as the other kids in school. She won’t face the stares and questioning looks of her baldness alone. As long as she doesn’t have hair, neither will I.

When he finishes shaving me, we switch places, and I grab a fresh towel for him. “Are you sure you want to do this too?”

“I’m positive. And I dare anyone to say a word about it.”

After we clean up the hair from the floor, we move to the guest bathroom to finish what we’ve started. Standing in front of the dual sink vanity, we lather our heads with shaving cream and remove the remaining stubble. Clean-shaven and wiped dry, we admire each other for a moment before Kyle hugs me.

It’s been so long since my son hugged me.

Too long.

“This is the worst I’ve ever felt. But we’re a family, and we stick together.”

“Absolutely, son. Until the end of time.”

Kyle and I retreat to the den and mindlessly watch TV. At first, he asked a few more questions about Grace’s condition, but he’s been quiet since then. We’ve alternated crying while respecting the other’s privacy. We’re both going through our private hell, but neither of us feels much like talking about it more than we already have.

I don’t know about him, but I have no idea what’s happened in the movie we’ve been watching for the past two hours. All I can think about is what Grace is doing up there alone. Even though the wait has been almost too much to bear, I’ve given her privacy and time to think about herself. My insecurities keep playing tricks on my mind.

I’ve tried to put myself in her shoes. How would I react if I received a death sentence? Would I want time alone, or would I want to lean on her and listen as she tells me everything will be all right?

Then I realize I’m being selfish because I want her with me. Every second of every day, I want her by my side. Is that too much to ask? Yes, it is, because she asked me to give her the time alone.

As much as I want to walk beside her every step of the way, there will be one step I can’t take with her. She’ll face it alone, regardless of how badly I don’t want it to happen. And that’s the step she’s trying to come to terms with now.

Another hour passes before I hear her footsteps on the stairs. She keeps a slow pace, the weight of the world still weighing her down.

“Okay, so is there anything you two want to go do?” she asks as she walks toward the den, forcing a smile in her voice.

Then she steps into the room, and her bottom jaw drops to her chest. Her hands fly to her face to cover her mouth, and tears spring to her eyes. Her gaze darts between Kyle and me, taking in our bald heads. Our gesture of love for her.

“Oh my God. What have you two done?” she asks with a watery voice.

“We’re with you, Grace. Until the end of time.” I stand and meet her halfway across the room. She rushes into my arms and partly cries, partly laughs. Kyle joins us, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and one around hers.

“I guess one of you should shave my head now. I’d rather get it over with all at once than to find another cluster of hair on my pillow.”

“I’ll give you the buzz cut. Dad can shave the stubble off. We’ll be triplets, then.”

“Let’s do it now. I’m ready.”

She surprises me when she doesn’t shed one tear over the long locks of brown hair that fall to the floor. With each pass of the clippers, I’m there to sweep them up and whisk them away. She doesn’t need the visual reminder of seeing the pile of hair beneath her. In the bathroom, I sit her on a stool and cover her head in shaving cream. After every swipe of the blade, I kiss her, reminding her that my love endures regardless of the circumstance.

After I clean her completely bald head with a warm washcloth, she stands and faces me. She tries to hide her uncertainty when she looks up at me, but that quickly disappears when I smile lovingly before giving her a passionate kiss.

“Time for our selfie,” Kyle calls from the door and waves his phone.

We gather together, and Kyle snaps our picture—three bald heads with three thankful smiles.

“Did you have any great revelations in our bedroom?”

“I did. Let’s go back into the den, and I’ll fill you both in.”

Kyle and I take our seats while Grace paces back and forth in front of us.

“I’ve seen my share of death and tragedy in the ICU. I’ve had my heart broken for patients and their families. The one question that I’ve heard the most over the years is why him or why her, and I’ve never had a suitable answer to give them. But today when I asked why me, I realized the answer to my own question.

“Why not me? I can’t wish this on someone else. I can’t wish it away. I’m no better than any of the other women who have endured and suffered through this. So, even though I hate it, and I would cure it if I could, I’ve decided to look at this as a gift. Because it has made me realize and appreciate things I’ve just taken for granted.”

“Like what? What could possibly make you think this is a gift?” I’m shocked and can’t hide my reaction. This isn’t a gift—it’s a fucking curse. It’s robbing me of the love of my life. I’m not sure if she’s serious or if she has snapped. If I’m honest, I’d have to say it’s an even split.

“Like time, for example. I’ve always taken an abundance of time for granted. There’s always tomorrow. One day. Someday. Next year. Sometime. We’ve always said we’d go on a tour of Italy, before Venice is completely underwater, but we never went. We’ve put off going ice skating on the pond just down the road because we have a long winter and can go anytime. Doing what we want to do hasn’t been a priority.

“Now, time is a priority because it’s limited. If there’s something we want to do, we should find a way to do it—as soon as possible. If not now, then when? I started making a list of things I want to do while I’m still able to enjoy them.”

“Mom…you’re already making a bucket list?” Kyle sounds crushed, and I don’t blame him. I’m having a hard time with this myself.

“I’m not calling it that. I hit the big-ticket items first—the ones most everyone would list. Skydiving, for the thrill of cheating death and laughing in its face. A cruise around the world to see all the sites I’ve never been able to see before. Things like that. Then I read my list, and at first, I thought some of them were just silly, and I asked myself why I even listed them. I started to cross them off, but then I stopped and asked a different question.

“Why not? Big or little, silly or meaningful, all of these things make up our lives and who we are. They’re all equally important. Building memories with each other is what’s most important. So, I’m calling it my ‘why not’ list instead of a bucket list.”

“Can we see this list?” I’m really curious what else she has listed.

“Yes, you can. But first, I want you both to make your own ‘why not’ list. What do you want to do but haven’t made time for it? And I don’t want you to list things you think I want to do. This is for both of you, too. We’ll make memories together, doing things we each want to do, and having fun while we can.”

“I don’t like when you say ‘while we can,’ Mom. It makes me think you’re dying tomorrow.”

“We don’t know how much time any of us has left, Kyle. A car wreck could kill me before the cancer does. But knowing this is inside me has made me so much more aware of that fact. So I don’t want to waste one more second waiting to do anything I really want to do. Or anything you or your daddy want to do. If there’s anything on my list either of you doesn’t want to do, that’s okay, too. I can do it by myself and tell you all about it later.”

“Nope, I’m going with you. No matter what you want to do, I want to do it too. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Every memory she wants to create, I want to be part of it. I’ll need those memories one day.

She walks over to me and sits in my lap. Having her close feels so good—I could hold her like this for the rest of my life and be content. She leans in, her hands on my face, and presses her lips against mine. “I’m glad you said that, because I want you with me in everything I do. And I want to be with you in whatever you want to do.”

“What’s the first item on your list for tonight? We’ll make it happen, babe.”

“It’s already been an extra-long and trying day. How about we order pizza, make some junk food, and pick out a couple of pay-per-view movies for tonight?”

“Sounds like the perfect date to me.”

“I’ll go call the pizza place,” Kyle replies.

When he’s out of the room, she leans in and whispers in my ear. “And later when we go to bed, we’ll make sure we both get a happy ending today.”

“I’ll gladly give you all the happy endings you can stand. But are you sure you’re up for it tonight?”

“Why not?” She smirks, using her list to make a point.

“Fair enough. I can hardly wait.”

After watching the movies and finishing off all the pizza and junk food, we are all ready for bed. I’m nowhere near ready for sleep, but I’ll follow Grace’s lead. As hard as I tried to forget the news we received today long enough to enjoy spending time with my family, it was never far from my mind.

Every time she laughed at one of the stupid jokes in the comedy, I memorized the sound. Burned every laugh line in her face into my brain.

When she cried during the sappy romance movie we watched, I saw the young girl I fell in love with in every tear that fell from her eyes. And I see my wife of eighteen years whom I love more than my own life. I watched her more than I did the TV, afraid to miss one second of our time together.

She closes and locks our bedroom door behind her, then leans against it with a come-hither expression on her beautiful face. “Time to get undressed for bed.”

“You’ll hear no argument from me. In fact, I’ll even help you out of your clothes first.”

“I’m waiting.”

She only has to tell me once. Hesitation isn’t an option, especially now. Especially when she’s looking at me like she wants to devour me. Fuck if I don’t want her to, but what I want most is to give her more than I ever have before. More than she can take in one night. Tonight is all about Grace and making her feel alive—and leaving no doubt that my heart and soul belong to her after I finish worshiping her body.

She stays rooted in her spot when I set my sights on her and move toward her. Her breathing hitches, and her skin flushes with excitement. I peel her clothes off with her standing up, savoring every brush of my fingers across her skin and pressing my lips against her softness as I move. Every inch of her is sheer perfection, beauty I’ll never forget or take for granted again.

Her breathing increases with my every movement, her chest heaves with anticipation and desire. Just knowing how much she wants me fuels my libido exponentially. Kneeling in front of her, I gently push on her legs to widen them and give me room to work my magic. Her fingertips stroke my scalp as I begin my initial assault on her with slow, controlled flicks of my tongue. The strength of her grip on me increases in time with my intensity and pace.

“Oh God,” she moans when I pick up her leg and put it over my shoulder.

She becomes louder when I drive deep inside her, lapping up her sweet nectar and rolling my tongue against her inner walls. When I thrust my fingers into her wetness, her knee buckles from the powerful sensations. I easily hold her up and slide her standing leg onto my shoulder, pushing her back against the door. The more eager my movements are, the farther her hips buck upward and expose her beautiful core to me.

When she screams my name and her body quivers from her release, I slow my ministrations and ease her legs to the floor. Then I scoop her up in my arms and move her to the bed where I can finish my mission to rock her world.

I’ll take my time and make this last all night. Reconnecting with Grace heals the brokenness inside me.