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He pulled away from Ansley and fought his own tears at her grief.
36
JUNE
In the afternoons, he read to me. We went through a dark period two months ago, when he took us through The Shining. I was torn between hating the book, and wanting to know what would happen next. Now, (thank God) we’d moved on to lighter reading material. Ansley recommended a new contemporary fiction novel, and though he pretended to hate it, I knew he was dying to find out what secret Jocelyn’s husband was keeping.
This hadn’t been easy for him. He acted like it was. His greeting to me was always light-hearted, and he always had a funny story to tell. At this point, I felt like I knew Nate and Bridget well. She seemed like a lot of fun and had continued to babysit Paige and Caleb on the occasional weekend date night. And Nate was dating Benta, which shocked both Declan. He didn’t think their relationship would last a year, but I was secretly rooting for them. Behind all of Nate’s humor and cockiness, there seemed to be a real sweetheart hidden away. Just like under Declan’s stoic and dry exterior, there was gold in his heart.
Even Roger loved Declan. He came by last week, on his lunch break, and sat quietly by the window, eating his sandwich. He didn’t say much, but Roger never was a talker. He told me all about his meatball sub, and that he had really wanted a BLT, but that Ansley thought the bacon would offend me, given my love of all things pig. I’d smiled at that. He’d also told me that Declan had invited him to play on his softball team. Roger hadn’t had the heart to tell him no, which was unfortunate for Declan, since Roger’s attempt at sports typically looked like a seizure victim. Their first game was in a week, and I wished I could be there, for the comedic view of Roger swinging a bat, if nothing else. Poor Declan. I hoped he didn’t have anything riding on this season.
The door opened, and I waited for a hint as to who it was. They’d already checked my vitals this morning, so it had to be a visitor, but it was too early to be Declan. I heard a cadence of clips across the floor and my throat grew thick, emotion swelling when I recognized the sound. I’d heard that sound before. Hundreds of times. I’d heard it when I was sleeping on the couch, the clicks across the wood floor my only warning before a wet snout would nudge my face. I’d heard it barrel down the hall, clippity-cloppiting, whenever the doorbell rang. I’d heard it jump beside my bed, the floor creaking in protest, in an attempt to get me to lift him up. It’s Mr. Oinks! He’s here, in the hospital!
My entire body strained to reach for him, to touch him, to hug him. I heard Ansley and Declan’s quiet voices as they worked together to lift him onto the bed. “Easy,” Declan murmured. “Watch her cords.” The bed creaked and shimmied, and I could hear the gentle puff of his breaths. He was smelling me, and I hoped he could recognize me. I couldn’t possibly smell the same. I wasn’t wearing my perfume. My hair was washed by clinical hospital soap and not my normal Herbal Essence. I hadn’t just finished baking. I hadn’t been out in the yard, or wearing his favorite sweatshirt. I wasn’t me anymore, and it would break my heart if he couldn’t recognize me through the tubes and mask and hospital gown.
Suddenly he grunted, excited, and I knew that grunt. That grunt was the sound of his happiness. It was the sound when he got close enough to something to recognize it, and I’ve never loved this half-blind pig more. I could hear the sheets rustling, the bed shaking, and Ansley started to cry. If I could move, if I could reach him, I would have done the same thing. I would have bawled. Inside, I was. I was sobbing and hugging Mr. Oinks, and both of them in turn. I was squeezing them tight and never letting go.
Declan’s voice was suddenly in my ear, and he was whispering all the things that he always says to me just before he leaves. How much he loved me. How much he missed me. How, once I was able to get up, we had so many wonderful things to do. He had such big plans for us. He saw me in a way that I didn’t deserve to be seen, but that if I ever got out of this bed, I would strive to be.
“Declan.” Ansley’s voice sounded different, and I stopped breaking down long enough to listen to her. “Declan,” she repeated. “Look.”
