Charade (27 page)

             
Maggie pulls away. “Yesterday she slept most of the day. Was vomiting.”

             
“Why did
n’t
you call
me?
” I ask.

             
“She asked me not to. Said she was just tired. It’s her right, Colton.”

             
“I’m her son.” I push around Maggie. “I have a right.”

             
“Another hospice nurse came in this morning…They prescribed a lot more morphine. It will help with the pain.”

             
Help kill her, she means.

             
“She didn’t want to take any until you got here. She’s still sleeping a lot but—”

             
I don’t hear anything else because I’m down the hall. To her room. She’s in fucking pain because she wanted to wait for me.

             
Her head is turned, her eyes on the door as soon as I step inside.

             
“Colton,” she hardly whispers out. My feet plant to the floor. I can’t move. How the hell can she look so much worse in two days? How can it happen like this? She’s hooked up to the IV. I’ve seen her on it at home before, but this is different.

             
My pulse pounds in my ears. My chest aches. This is Mom. The one who’s always been there. The one who wanted nothing but for me to be happy. To make something of myself. To be more than her and more than my dad and she’s fucking dying.

             
Her arm stretches out, her hand open to me.

             
Fucking move, Colt!

             
I feel Chey’s hand on my shoulder, urging me on. One foot in front of the other I go to her.

             
“Hey, Mom.” My voice
breaks
and I hate myself for it. Hate that I can’t be stronger when she needs me.

             
“Hi.” Her lips are cracked they’re so dry, but she manages to stretch them into a smile anyway.

             
“I love you.” I’m pissed those are the words that come out of my mouth. I love her and want her to know but that’s what you say before goodbye. I’m not ready for goodbye yet.

             
She doesn’t answer right away. Just grab my hand and tries to squeeze. “I’m tired.”

             
“Are you in pain?” What a screwed up question. Of course she’s in pain. I’m in pain just looking at her.

             
Mom nods her head.

             
“Chey. Get Maggie. Tell her she needs the meds.”

             
I keep holding her hand as I sit in the chair. Neither of us speak. Her breaths are shallow, loud.

             
It’s not Maggie, but another nurse who comes into the room and adds medicine to the IV. Chey’s hands touch my shoulders again. I don’t look at any of them. Don’t talk to anyone. Do nothing but watch her.

~CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO~

Cheyenne

             
Colt’s mom’s been asleep for three hours. He hasn’t spoken a word the whole time. I’m sitting in a chair beside him. He’s holding her hand, his head in his arms that are resting on her bed. Sometimes I touch him. I want him to know I’m here. I’ll always be here. I alternate between rubbing his back and touching his leg and pulling back to give him space. Still I don’t leave the chair. As long as he’s by her side I’ll be by his.

             
Longer even.

             
My heart aches for him—breaks for him and for her. For everyone because this world will be a little more lonely without her in it.

             
I’ve only known her a short amount of time and I know that.

             
H
is stomach growl, but don’t ask if he wants food. I know he’ll say no.

             
I look at Colt. Look at Bev and flash to Mom telling me goodbye. Flash to what her bones must have looked like in those woods. Alone. I’m glad Bev won’t have to go alone like that.

             
Glad Colt and I won’t be left by ourselves either.

             
He sits up enough to rub a hand through his hair. It’s as messy as I’ve ever seen it. His leg bounces up and down. But he hasn’t shed a tear.

             
For the first time, he turns and looks at me. The pain in his eyes rips through my chest and makes tears spring to my eyes. I’m not as strong as he is.

             
“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Not yet. You didn’t cry for yourself for so long. If you do it now, make it for her, not me.”

             
I nod. He leans away from the bed enough to run a hand down the side of my face. To push my hair behind my ear.

             
The smile he gives me is worse than weeping. It’s broken. Pained.

             
And just that quickly his hand is gone and his head is turned and he’s leaning on the bed again. Holding her hand and watching her breathe. The breaths that I begin to count the second between.

             
Maggie’s in and out. The hospice nurse too. Colt doesn’t talk to them. They speak to me, but mostly I think they want to leave us alone with her while we wait for her to go.

~CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE~

Colt

             
Mom’s eyes flutter open for the first time in hours. Five to be exact. They dart around the room, fear peering out of them.

             
“What is it? What’s wrong? Do you need the nurse?”

             
“I’m late for work!” she says and tries to get up.

             
Work? She hasn’t worked in a year. “Mom…you don’t work. You’re…” I can’t manage to say it. “Do you need the nurse?”

             
“I don’t want to get fired. I need the money. My son…” She looks scared to death. Pulls her hand away from me.

             
My heart is racing. My body numb. Does she not know who I am? “It’s me. I’m your son. You don’t have to work. You just need to rest.”

             
“Colton?” her voice cracks, confusion still splintering through.

             
“Yeah. Yeah it’s me.”
It’s me.
I have to tell her who I am. I want to scream. To throw up. To wake up from this shitty ass nightmare and find out everything’s okay.

             
“Colton…” she says again, this time with recognition. The nurse comes into the room again, fills a syringe and shoots more pain medicine into her.

             
One, two, three.

             
Her eyes flutter.

             
Four, five
,
six.

             
She’s asleep again.

             
I fall into the chair.

             
I’ve already lost her.

~CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR~

Cheyenne

             
Colt’s said a few words, but nothing major. I’ve held him and given him space. Maggie’s brought food we haven’t touched. The only time we leave is to go to the restroom. 

             
It’s four hours later when her eyes finally open again. How many hours have we been here? I hold my breath. I think my heart stops too.

             
Please let her be okay. Let her know who he is. Let him be able to say goodbye.

“I…wish…you…didn’t…have…to…look…so…sad…” she says, weakly smiling.

             
I feel the tension leak out of Colt’s body.

             
“Mom. Hey. How do you feel?”
             

             
“Happy to see you,” she replies.

             
I know I shouldn’t. That I should be strong, but I can’t fight the tears from falling down my face. Can’t hold them back or reel them in.

             
And it’s not all from sadness. I see the way she looks at him and it’s beautiful. She loves him the way a mother should love their child. Thoroughly. Completely. To her, he’s the most important person in the world and I’m so very happy they have that.

             
“Always trying to get on my good side,” Colt tries to tease. I love him more for it.

             
She reaches for his hand. I didn’t realize they’d let go. He gives it to her and she squeezes.

             
“Let me talk to Cheyenne.” Her voice is so soft, I can hardly make out her words. Colt looks like he’s ready to panic. His eyes wide as he looks from her to me.

             
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’ll just be a minute.”

             
I cry harder. I need to stop, but I can’t make myself do it. I wipe my eyes as Colt stands up. He kisses her cheek. Stands and drops his forehead against mine.

             
No words are needed. We just lean into each other. “We’ll be okay,” I whisper.

             
He nods.

             
“I love you.”

             
“You too.” And then he’s gone. I take his chair and have to lean in close so I can hear her.

             
“You’re beautiful together.” Her chin trembles, which makes me cry again.

             
“I love him. He’s…”

             
“Frustrating.”

             
I smile. “Yes.”

             
“But he’s wonderful too.” Her voice sounds so proud in that moment. You wouldn’t know she was sick. She’s just a mom proud of her son.

             
“You guys think you fooled me in the beginning,” she rasps. “You were only fooling yourself.”

             
I nod because she’s right. I’m not surprised she knows. I’m honored she sees it’s real now.

             
“Take care of him.”

             
The words snap me like a twig. “I will.” I can hardly get out between my sobs. I squeeze her hand and rest my cheek on it. “I will, I will, I will.”

             
“Take care of you too. And let him. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s good at taking care of people.”

             
“He is.” I say this with as much conviction as she spoke with. “He takes good care of me.”

             
“You have to be able to take care of yourself too. Both you and Colton. It’s okay to lean, but you both need to know how strong you are too.”

             
“I—”

             
“Your mom loved you,” Bev cuts me off. I gasp. My tears are running down onto her hand and I feel guilty, but can’t make them stop.

             
“She loved you. It would be impossible not to. She might not always have known how to show it. She might not have always done the right thing, but she loved you. She loved you,” she says again.

             
“Thank you.” I say it over and over. Until my throat is raw. Until she knows how much those words mean to me because somehow they have to be real if she says it.

             
“He loves you,” she adds. “And I love you. You’re everything I could have hoped for, for him.”

             
I can’t stop myself. I stand up and lean down to rest my head on her chest. The tears don’t stop. She shushes me. Runs a hand through my hair. It’s the same thing Colt does and I wonder how many bruised knees and bad days she soothed for him this way.

             
Finally, when the tears are gone, I sit up. “Thank you. I love you too.”

             
A quick nod is my reply. “I need Colton.” Her voice is laced with pain. Broken and bleeding with it. “I need my boy.”

~CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE~

Colt

             
My feet are weighed down, but I somehow manage to make them move. Chey’s in the hallway as I close Mom’s bedroom door.

             
I don’t know if it’s okay or if it’s right or if it makes me the weakest son-of-a-bitch on the planet, but I crawl into bed with her, hoping and praying I don’t hurt her. All I know is I need her.

             
I wrap my arm around her. Curl up on my side. I feel small…like a kid. How I used to get into bed with her when I’d have a nightmare or the neighbors would scream so loud they scared me.

             
“My sweet, sweet, boy
,
”
S
he says. I don’t know how she managed to make her voice sound clear, stronger. Probably for me. Because she knows I need it.