“Sorry, but not surprised, huh, Pop?” Ted cackled and then began to cough. Gram cast me a worried frown and held his hand tighter. When he’d recovered, Ted went on. “Don’t you want to lecture me about actions and consequences?”
A nerve twitched in Pop’s cheek, but he remained silent.
“Teddy, whatever you might think, your father and I have only ever wanted the best for you.” Gram’s lip trembled. “I know we’re not perfect, and I know we made mistakes, but we’re still your family, and we love you.” She glanced at me. “All of us. You have a wonderful son, Teddy. Aren’t you proud of him? He’s grown up to be a fine man.”
“No thanks to me,” Ted pointed out, although there was no malice in his voice. “Any good in that boy came from you. That’s what you all think.”
“He’s your flesh and blood.” Pop shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “And it’s not too late for you to be part of his life.”
“As long as there’s life, there’s hope,” Gram agreed.
Ted’s eyes closed. “But there’s not gonna be life much longer, Ma. Didn’t the good doc there tell you? The clock’s tickin’. I’m living on borrowed time.”
I sighed. “Ted, we talked about your treatment options. I told you that we might be able to extend the time that’s left to you, and with the advances being made, you have a real shot at a decent quality of life, too. But you have to cooperate. Doing this will mean making a real change in your habits, your lifestyle, and your choices. It means sticking around here so that your progress can be monitored.” I spread my hands. “But what happens next isn’t up to me. It’s not up to Gram or Pop, either. You’re the one who has to decide if you want to live a little longer or if you’re ready to give up.”
His mouth twisted as he listened to me. “So let me get this straight. If I want to get better—even a little bit better—I gotta stay here and let you pump poison into me, shine that radioactive shit down onto my bones and do what you say. I gotta give up my life on the road, my music and my friends.”
One side of my mouth curled up. “That’s not exactly what I said, but close enough.”
“And if I don’t listen to you, if I hit the road again, then I’m probably gonna die.”
“We’re all going to die, Ted. But yes, the end would come sooner for you, and it would likely be preceded by a great deal of pain and suffering.”
“Huh.” His eyes flickered between Gram and Pop and me. “Would I be in this hospital bed the whole time?”
I shook my head. “No, once we got you stabilized and started your treatment, if you responded well, you could continue on an outpatient basis. But you’d have to stay local. You’d have to be able to get to the hospital every week. You could find a place in town, I guess, a room someone was renting, maybe.”
“Or you could move back to the farm. We have room, Teddy, you know that.” Gram’s voice was even. “I’m not saying you have to do it, but it’s an option.”
“Son of bitch.” Ted struggled to breathe in deep. “Can’t believe it’s come to this. All my life, all I tried to do was get away from that damn place, and hell if I don’t end up dying there anyway. Like it’s all been a big maze, and I’m the fucking rat who can’t get out no matter how hard I tried.”
“Like I told you before, Ted, the choice is yours. I wouldn’t say you’re a rat in a maze, but if that’s the analogy you like, I’d look at the farm as the way out, not another trap.”
“Yeah, you would.” He snorted. “I gotta think it over. Gotta . . . give it some thought. I’m too tired to decide now.”
Gram clucked her tongue. “Jimmy, we should go. We don’t want to wear him out.” She patted Ted’s arm and then, after the briefest of hesitations, she bent over and pressed a kiss to his sunken cheek. “You rest up now, son, and Pop and I will be back to see you.”
The movement of his head was barely perceptible, but his eyes opened a slit. “Thanks for coming, Ma. Pop. Means a lot.”
As the three of us moved into the hall, I felt tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying drain away, letting my shoulders relax.
“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I was afraid it would be.”
Gram offered me a thin smile. “You worry too much, Deacon. What’s between Pop and me and your father doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m sorry you have to weather the fall-out.” She clutched her hands together as we walked away from Ted’s room. “He’s very sick, isn’t he?”
I’d given Gram and Pop the clinical run-down of Ted’s disease yesterday, so I knew Gram was aware of his prognosis. I also understood exactly what she was saying now.
“Yeah, Gram. He is. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about, son, you didn’t make it happen. Oh, look, there’s Emma.” Gram’s face brightened. “Emma!”
“Hey, Anna. Jimmy.” Emma hugged both of my grandparents in turn and then drifted over to stand next to me. I felt the rightness of that deep down in my bones. This was where she belonged. This was how we belonged—together.
“They’ve just been to see Ted,” I explained, my fingers curling up in an effort to keep from grabbing Emma to me and kissing her.
“I figured that. I’m sorry about this whole thing. I know it’s got to be hard on you both.” She reached out and took Gram’s hand. “If there’s anything I can do . . .”
“You’re such a good friend.” Gram smiled. “We’ll be all right. But thank you, honey.”
