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“All righty, darling. I think it is time to up your morphine levels. Nod to confirm I can jack it up.” Duffy walked over to his IV and picked up a red button that was hooked to it. Charlie gave a faint nod. I watched, fascinated. I’d never seen anyone die. Least of all one of my parents.
She pressed the button, then sat on the edge of his bed, taking his hands in hers. She rubbed a spot with her thumb, smiling calmly. “You’re okay, Charlie.”
He nodded weakly again. My throat tightened, and my eyes burned. Even if he wasn’t okay, he could no longer open his mouth and ask for help.
A lone tear rolled down his cheek. Duffy was kind enough not to acknowledge it.
“Shall I prop you up a bit more?” she cooed sweetly. “Might help with your lungs.”
This time his nod was barely visible. She pushed a button on the side of his bed and helped him into a full sitting position. His head lolled sideways.
No functioning muscles.Duffy grabbed one of the many flat pillows lying around and secured it around his neck to keep him steady.
And that was it. I knew Charlie would die in the next hour. That there were a lot of things to say, and that none of them would be said. He was taking the answers to all my questions to his grave. If I’d been more forgiving, more open, I could’ve known more. As it was, my origin would always be largely a mystery to me.
Sensing the same thing I did—that Charlie was in the process of passing away—Duffy stood up. She leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“Goodbye, sweet friend. Thank you for being my family away from home. Thank you for giving me the most precious thing one could give—time. And thank you for the man you became. I know you have your regrets, but I can assure you, Charlie—you’re up there with Tim. A man worthy of restoring a little girl’s faith.”
She rubbed at his cheek, smiled, kissed his head, and withdrew. A moment later, her hand found my shoulder.
“I’m going to get some coffee for us. Would you like anything to eat?”
I shook my head absently, still amazed that Charlie’s looming death was hitting me this hard, along with the realization that Daphne was the loveliest person one could perish in front of. Caring, loving, sweet, and warm. She was everything I’d wished my mother was.
She was everything my mother could have been, had she been alive.
And just like that, with the reluctant forgiveness I granted my no-show dad, I also came to the realization my life was one poor decision by my mother away from being completely different.
My abandonment issues, my fear of loss, my anger—all gone. And maybe, if everything was so fluid, so fragile, it was better to spend time being grateful for the people you did have in your life than resenting those who were absent from it.
Duffy closed the door behind her gently. If there was aDONOTDISTURBsign for hospital rooms, I bet she’d have put one on our door. She was clearly desperate for Charlie and me to have some kind of a resolution.
Charlie blinked my way, the simple movement slow and labored.
“Hey,” I said.
His gaze dropped to my hands. I had my elbows on my knees, and I was crouching forward, toward him. My stare followed his. My jaw ticked.
He wanted me to hold his hand.
I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to forgive him, to touch him, to love him, to hurt because he was hurting. But somehow, without permission, he’d managed to make me feel all those things.
Reaching out, I placed my hand over his, clasping it firmly. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the morphine—hell, maybe it was the dying—but I swear I felt him shaking underneath me.
I choked on my saliva, willing the words to leave my mouth, knowing that I meant every single one of them.
“I forgive you,” I heard myself say, and underneath my hand, he began shaking harder. His whole body trembled, his eyes clinging tome so hard he didn’t dare blink. “I’m not making excuses for you, but you were young and extra-fucking stupid—the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, by the way. I was a goddamn demon in my twenties.” I squeezed his hand in mine. “Besides, I still can’t commit to a girlfriend at thirty-seven, so I’m not one to criticize anyone in that department.”
Though Duffy hadn’t asked to be my girlfriend. She hadn’t asked me to be my anything.
Charlie stopped trembling. His eyelids slid shut, even though I could see he was fighting to stay awake.
“Don’t fight it, Charles. It’s okay. We all have our day. And you had a good run.” I licked my lips, watching his expression as it became horrifyingly neutral. “I bet if she were alive, she’d forgive you too.”
His hand became cold as circulation stopped flowing. Everything turned slack and lifeless. The pale became paler—other than his lips, which took on a blue hue.
I was there in the most intimate moment of his life. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
