Despite our upbringing, and the face that she was a single mother nearly our entire childhood, my mom carried with her a bright light that expressed her eternally optimistic outlook. Whenever we were down or frustrated with ourselves, she’d pull out one of her motivational quotes. She was a walking/talking advertisement for thePower of Positive Thinkingand one of Dr. Norman Vincent Peale’s biggest followers. I search my memory for one that would come in handy right now but draw a blank.
She pats my arm reassuringly. “You’re doing exactly what I need, Gavin. Just having you here with me is such a comfort. I know that being let go from the team was a hard blow, but I believe it was meant to happen for a reason. You have to go through some adversity in life before you can truly know what it feels like to succeed.”
Her eyes are rimmed red from all the tears, but her smile is warm and loving. We’ve all gone through a shitload of adversity in our life, yet she makes lemonade out of lemons.
Maybe she’s right about this, though. Everything happens for a reason. While in Italy, I developed some stronger playing skills and got some great experience. I also met Kady, at a time when she needed someone. And being cut from the team has given me the opportunity to be home now when my mom needs me.
And then there’s the fact that Kady is also home now at the same time I am. Is that what’s called serendipity?
“I’m just glad I’m able to be here with you.”
She squeezes my arm and stands, stretching from side-to-side.
“I wish it were under better circumstances, though,” she says, twisting the knots from her back. “I’m going to go sit with Frank for a while, baby. And I want you boys to go home, get some rest, and go spend some time with your friends tonight.”
I’m about to argue but she holds up the heel of her hand at me. “Don’t you dare disobey me. I’m still your mother and I will swat your behind if I have to.”
We both laugh at the absurdity of that. Not a chance.
“Mom, we’re not going to leave you by yourself.”
She moves a few steps back to me and grabs hold of my hands. My mother’s attitude amazes me. Christian and I have always been her priorities. Even when she met and fell in love with Frank, she made sure we were okay with it. And we were because she deserved someone to take care of her for once.
We knew Frank would be good to her. And he was.
The thought of her being alone again breaks my heart.
“Gavin, you’ll understand this someday. But I need these last few moments alone with my husband. To say my goodbyes. To share with him how much he’s meant to me. To tell him how much his love has changed my life. And to make sure that as he departs this world, he knows how much I truly love and care for him.” Her voice quavers as she speaks.
“There will come a time in your life, Gavin, maybe someday soon, when you connect with someone so deeply, it’ll feel like the beat of your heart is completely in sync with theirs. And when you find that someone, you need to tell them every day how much they mean to you. Because you never know how much time you’ll have to spend with them.”
A lump forms in my throat and suddenly my mouth is so dry it’s like I just swallowed a jar of peanut butter.
My mom hugs me and turns to enter the hospital room where Frank is plugged into tubes and machines. A room where he’ll likely die, leaving a grieving widow who knows she’s experienced the best love of her life.
I turn around and see Christian lumbering toward me, sullen and sad.
“What was that all about?” he asks, handing me a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
I take a sip and smile tightly.
“It was about how not to be a stupid asshole.”
Christian shakes his head and pats me on the shoulder. “You are who you are. Can’t change that, brother.”
I punch him in the arm with my free hand.
“I was referring to you,” I chuckle, feeling a weight lifted from my shoulders. “Was that Cade Griffin’s fiancée you were talking with? Are you thinking about heading over there later? Mom wants us get out of her hair out so she can have some time alone with Frank.”
He turns his head toward the ICU room where my mom sits by Frank’s bedside, keeping vigil.
“Yeah, I guess so. She texted Cade and told him I was coming over. You wanna come along?”
“Absolutely. I’d actually like to talk to Cade.”
“Mm-kay,” he agrees skeptically. “Does this have anything to do with his sister?”
I take a sip and shrug noncommittally. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Christian groans with a roll of his eyes.
“You’re whipped, son. Totally, fucking whipped.”
Giving his arm a solid punch this time, we take off down the hallway, leaving the smells and noises of the hospital behind.
At least for a little while. Because we know it won’t be much longer.
