Page 2 of Her Last Hour

"It does," Rachel had responded. "And maybe it's a real place. I just can't know for sure. No one does until…well, until they aren't here anymore."

"It does sound nice. Golden streets and no pain. I think you'll go there."

Rachel kissed Paige on the head and asked, "And how do you know so much about Heaven?"

"Grandma Tate. She thinks it's a real place, too."

Sadly, that had been the deepest conversation about what might happen after she was gone that Rachel had with her daughter. It was something she thought about a lot as she spent the bulk of her days sitting on the deck and staring out across the backyard. She found that she honestly didn't care one way or the other. Although to be fair, if everything that was tied into the biblical idea of heaven was true, she probably wouldn't end up there because of the whole missing relationship with God and all that.

Just one more thing to be uncertain about. And when there was a tumor slowly engulfing her head, she neededfewerthings to worry about.

Currently, she was sitting in a glider chair on her back deck. Fall had just started to settle in, so Paige and Grandma Tate were down in the yard, taking in what would likely be the final batch of cucumbers from the plant in the keyhole garden Rachel had built about two months ago. While they picked from the vines, Rachel was beginning to consider something that she and Grandma Tate had briefly talked about two days before.

If she did make the decision to undergo chemo treatments, it might be worth considering hiring someone to homeschool Paige. Whatever time Rachel did have left, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. She just didn't know if it was worth upending her education. She'd be going into fourth grade, and she'd always kept amazing marks in school. Rachel couldn't help but wonder how the next year or so would affect that.

There was one more looming question that she and Granma Tate had also discussed—but it was something that was simply too heavy to think about. Not yet. First, she'd make the decision about the chemotherapy…and then the harder decisions would come. Because the sad fact of the matter was that if she died, both of Paige's parents would be gone. And while Grandma Tate had already expressed her enthusiasm about raising Paige if it came to that, there was no guarantee how long Grandma Tate would be around. Sure, she'd beaten her cancer and based on her most recent medical checkup, was in very good health for a woman that had just past the seventy-year mark.

As she pushed this train of thought away for what felt like the thousandth time, Paige came rushing up the deck stairs. "Look at the size of this one!"

She held out an enormous cucumber as if it were a knife. It was indeed a big one, maybe the largest they'd gotten out of the small garden this year.

"Oh, my, thatisa huge one. Better keep it safe from Grandma Tate before eh ruins it by chopping it up and putting it in vinegar."

Paige wrinkled up her nose and nodded. She raced inside with the cucumber as Grandma Tate walked slowly up the stairs. "I don't know that I ever had as much energy as that girl."

"Same here," Rachel said.

Grandma Tate sat down beside her and gave her a playfully stiff expression. "I know that look on your face. You're thinking not-nice things, aren't you?"

Rachel shrugged. "It's a little hard not to."

"I get it. I really do." She left it at that. She seemed to be a bit more reluctant to talk about the cancer she'd beaten ever since Rachel had been dealt her blow. It was now just an unspoken fact that existed between them, linking them in a rather morbid way.

"I guess we should head inside for dinner."

Grandma Tate nodded and got to her feet. "I thought you'd be excited about dinner tonight. Jack is coming over, right?"

"Not until later. He called earlier and said he was going to be late. I think he landed a new case."

Selfishly, it hurt to even say such a thing. There was a bratty sort of anger to the idea that Jack was still working while she was sidelined and facing her own mortality. Grandma Tate seemed to pick up on this. She gave a solemn little nod and walked inside. Rachel tried to get up to follow her but found that she simply didn't have the strength. She was beginning to find that every now and then, she much preferred to be by herself. It was easier to wallow in the sadness and defeat of it all if it was just her. She didn't have to put on a mask or pretend she felt any certain way. By herself, she allowed the reality of what was happening to her to sink in.

It took her to a dark place sometimes, but she'd rather face the truth than paint up a ridiculous fairy tale that she knew would never come true. So she sat by herself in the glider for a couple of minutes more, looking over the backyard. She looked to the keyhole garden, to the cucumber plants that would likely begin to die out in a few weeks, and wondered if she'd ever see those plants produce fruit again.

CHAPTERTHREE

At dinner, she played the part she felt she needed to play. When it was just the three of them in the house, Paige seemed to be at her happiest. There seemed to be a constant rain cloud hovering over the girl ever since Rachel had come clean with her new diagnosis. It made sense, she supposed. She’d already lost a father in the past seven months and was now being faced with the idea of not having a mother, either. But there were little glimpses of the nine-year-old girl that loved life and was always laughing. And if it took Rachel playing a specific part and putting on a Pretty Little face to hide the anger and fear deep within her, then she was willing to do it.

So they ate together, cleaned up together, and watched some TV together. When she went up with Paige to tuck her into bed, she heard a soft knock at the door. Jack had finally come, and Grandma Tate was answering the door.

Rachel had been having mixed feelings about Jack lately. She was pretty sure she was in love with him, but it was a stupid time to be falling in love. Not only that, but he didn’t want things between them to keep evolving if the end result was Jack being devastated and lost when she was dead.

On the other hand, there were some days when spending time with Jack brought her almost as much joy as Paige’s smile. A selfish part of her knew that Jack would play a huge part in helping her get through the next year or so, no matter which route she decided to take. But she didn’t want to feel like she was dragging him down.

Even after she knew Jack was in the house, she allowed Paige to read to her—an entire chapter out of one of her adventure chapter books. She kissed Paige good night, tucked her in, and then slowly made her way downstairs. She found Jack and Grandma Tate sitting on the couch, talking. Jack was smiling widely at whatever Grandma Tate had said—which wasn’t surprising because the woman had a knack for telling a story. When Rachel reached the bottom of the stairs, they both went quiet, but when they turned to look at her, Jack’s smile remained.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly.

“Hey yourself.”

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