Days of You and Me (6 page)

“Wake up, lazy bones.”

My eyes were heavy, but I forced them open, my lips curving into a smile at the same time. There was no way I could be grumpy when the sweetest girl in the world was rousing me.

“What time is it?” Old habits die hard. Schedules didn’t mean anything to me anymore, not when there was nowhere I had to be, but still, I felt that letting go of the idea of time was relinquishing one more hold on life.

“Nine-thirty. Why, do you have a hot date?” Quinn’s voice was teasing, making me glad, and I reached out to catch hold of her hand where it rested next to my leg as she perched on the side of the bed.

“The hottest around.” I lifted her fingers to my lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thanks. And it seems like you did, too.” She scanned my face carefully, and I knew she was watching for any tell-tale signs that I was in pain.

“Yeah. Since Dr. Randall adjusted that medicine, I’ve been getting better sleep. Only problem is, I end up getting too much of it.” I leaned a little and reached back to adjust my pillow, trying to sit up.

“Here. Let me fix it.” Quinn stood up and deftly folded the pillow in half before she grabbed another from the chair and tucked it behind me. “Is that better?”

“Perfect.” I settled back, sighing, watching her move to lean against the chair as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful. I could look at you forever.”

Pink stained her cheeks. “Well, aren’t you the flatterer this morning? You must want something.” She winked at me, teasing, but I could tell what I’d said had made her happy.

“No, not a thing. Just more time with you.”

Pain flashed in her eyes. I could’ve kicked myself for that; as much as I could, I tried to keep things light and positive around Quinn. I was greedy, and I wanted every minute we spent together to be filled with only happiness and laughter. I tried to explain what I meant, to take away her hurt.

“That’s why I hate that I’m sleeping more. Every second I’m asleep is one I’m missing with you. Seeing your face is the best part of every day, even when you’re scolding me.”

The worry on her face eased, and she rolled her eyes. “I only scold when you’re a grouch about taking your meds or doing what the doctors say. And sleep is good. It lets your body recharge.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to quote my grandmother and say I’d sleep when I was dead, but I didn’t want to bring up anything else that would dim the light in my wife’s gorgeous eyes. So I only nodded. “Yes, dear.”

“Brat.” She stood up, stretching her shoulders. “I’m going to get your breakfast ready. Your mom already left to go back up to Eatonboro for the day, but I have a surprise for you.”

“Really? What?” I cocked my head, curious.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?” She flashed me a saucy glance. “Now, do you need help to the bathroom before I get your tray?”

I shook my head. “I think I can manage by myself. And I’ll eat breakfast in the other room. I want a change of scenery today.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows. “Feeling feisty now, are we?”

“I’m feeling pretty good, actually, and I don’t want to waste that on staying in bed. Maybe I could even go out onto the deck for a little bit, if it’s not too hot.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s pretty dang warm today, and muggy, too. But if you still feel okay, we could sit out there tonight after dinner and watch the sunset. How does that sound?”

“Sounds romantic. I’ll take it easy this afternoon so I’ll be able to make it out there tonight.”

“That’s a good plan.” She paused in the doorway. “Be careful getting up. Yell for me if you need me.”

“I will.” I waited until I couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore before I threw off the sheet and blanket that covered my lower body. Although Quinn was one of the very few people who’d seen my legs lately, I still wasn’t comfortable parading them around in front of her. All of the muscle tone I’d worked so hard to build up during high school was long since gone, and my shins and calves were discolored and bruised as my circulation got worse. It wasn’t pretty, and if I could protect her from that, I would.

Once I’d acclimated to sitting straight up right, I slid down until my feet hit the cool tile floor. The first time each day that I put any weight on my feet was painful, and I gave myself a few minutes until the spasms passed. Only then did I carefully stand and shuffle toward the bathroom, leaning on furniture and the wall as much as I could.

After I’d taken care of the most pressing needs in the bathroom, I lurched back into the hallway and made my way slowly to the living room. There was already a pillow and blanket on the couch, and I sighed in relief and fatigue as I sat down and covered myself from hip to toes.

Quinn had rearranged the furniture in here so that I could see outside to the beach through the wide picture window along the rear wall. There were already a bunch of people out there today, setting up their blankets and chairs on the sand, chasing kids down to the water and rubbing on sunscreen. For a second, I was wild with envy for each group who was blissfully ignorant out there, most of them enjoying their time in the sun, dealing with nothing more tragic than sunburn or a seagull snatching food from their hands. I knew that I wasn’t being fair; everyone had his own share of heartbreak or challenge, but just now, it felt like I was the only one facing the end. Premature death. A life cut short. I wanted to rail at all of the people on the sand and tell them that they had no idea how crappy it was to know my days were numbered in weeks, not years.

And then, I heard Quinn singing in the kitchen. She didn’t have the best voice in the world, not by far. It wasn’t her talent. But she sounded happy and relaxed, and suddenly, I knew for certain that those poor jerks on the beach had nothing on me. They might’ve had decades of life ahead of them, but they didn’t have Quinn, and they never would. I’d only have her for another few months at best, but that still made me luckier by far than anyone else in the world.

We’d been down at the shore for about six weeks. By the end of the first week, I’d been willing to declare my father a genius. Living here had been the best decision ever. Quinn had begun sleeping better almost immediately, and I’d noticed the shadows under her eyes had faded. She was eating better, and there was no doubt that she was happier overall. Each morning, long before I woke up, she arose and walked on the beach. She told me that she’d always needed time on her own, and those early-morning walks made all the difference in her ability to cope for the rest of the day.

My mother had backed off a little, too. She and Quinn had come to a meeting of the minds, as my dad put it, in their joint effort to care for me. Mom even left us alone together some days, as today, when she drove back home to take care of whatever couldn’t be accomplished via telephone or internet. Sometimes she and Carrie went out for lunch or dinner when they were both here. It gave Quinn and me the illusion of independence, and it felt damned good.

Dr. Randall had referred us to a local doctor who was overseeing my daily care and any medication issues that arose, but I didn’t need him often. My long-time doctor had made one trip all the way down here to see me himself, and he’d told me that this move was the best thing I could’ve done for myself and for Quinn.

“Not a bad place to go out, Nate.” He’d stood next to the sofa, gazing out onto the crashing surf. We’d been alone after he’d performed a cursory examination on me. “Not a bad place at all. I always thought, when it’s my time, that I’d like to be near the ocean. I could just feel my soul dancing over the waves, once I’ve shuffled off the damn mortal coil.”

I’d grinned. “Didn’t know you were such a poet, Dr. R.”

“I’m not, but I will admit to being a fan of the Bard. He had a lot to say about crossing over, you know. Hamlet, Macbeth, Caesar . . . they all had lines about death.”

“That’s true.” I’d stared out the window along with him. “You’re thinking that this is goodbye for you and me, aren’t you? We won’t see each other again.”

Dr. Randall had sighed. “I never make those kind of predictions, but . . . I think maybe you’re right this time. If you’re going to stay down here, there won’t be another opportunity for me to come by to check on you. And frankly, no need, either. There’s nothing more I can do for you, Nate.” His jaw had tensed. “Not one fucking thing. I wish there was. I thought . . . or I hoped, maybe, that time wouldn’t run out before we’d find a way. An answer for you. But it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry, Nate.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You did everything any doctor could, and you were always honest with me. I appreciate that.” I’d rested my head on the arm of the couch, letting my eyes close. “You’ve been there at the end for a lot of people, haven’t you? What’s it going to be like?”

He’d shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. It’s different for everyone. But I think it’s going to be peaceful. I imagine it will be a relief for you in many ways. The pain will be gone.” He had hesitated. “I’m not a religious man, but I’ve been present at too many deaths not to be spiritual. I have a feeling you’re going to dance into the light. All the shit you’ve dealt with your whole life will be a distant memory.”

“I hope it’s peaceful, for my parents and for Quinn.” I’d swallowed over a huge lump in my throat. “That’s the only thing I’m worried about. And God, I wish I had more time with her. I thought I was okay with dying, but every time I see her face, I wish for just a few more days. More months.”

“I understand. I wish I could give you that time. But as much as it frustrates the hell out of me, one thing I’ve learned is that everything happens the way it’s supposed to. Trust that. Try not to let what might happen at the end ruin the time you do have.”

“I’m working on it.”

I sighed now, remembering. These weeks since we’d moved down here had been incredible, and I was grateful that my dad had suggested it. For the first time since I’d proposed to Quinn, the guilt I’d been harboring over doing it had eased a little. Her happiness was all I needed, I realized, and now that I could have her with me
and
make her smile, that was everything.

“Breakfast is served.” She came around the corner of the kitchen doorway, carrying the tray. “All your favorites. Cinnamon toast, one egg over easy and crispy bacon.”

“Wow. It’s like the best day ever.” I reached for a piece of toast. “Under other circumstances, I’d ask you if I’m dying or something, but we both know the answer to that.”

“Nice, Nate.” She exhaled as though in annoyance, but I could tell it was more bluff than anything else. “Just enjoy your food, and then maybe—”

She was interrupted by a loud knock at the front door, and she jumped up, smiling big. “That might be your surprise. Be right back.”

Of course I wasn’t going anywhere, since I was a captive underneath the breakfast tray. Frowning, I watched her skip toward the front door, turning the corner so that she was hidden from me. I couldn’t imagine what she’d done; there was nothing in the world that I needed. Nothing other than her.

“Hey, what the hell’s your problem, dude? What’re you doing lying around here like an invalid?”

I recognized that voice, and immediately I knew what Quinn had done to surprise me, even before she followed Tuck’s wheelchair around the corner and into the living room.

“Tucker.” I grinned. “What’re you doing here?”

“Man, I heard you were living the good life down here, house on the beach, gorgeous woman waiting on you hand and foot, and I had to come down and see it for myself.” He wheeled over close to the sofa and held out one massive hand. “Good to see you, Nate.”

I gripped his fingers with my weaker ones. “You, too. I can’t believe you came all the way down here. How did you work it out?”

He lifted one shoulder. “Sweet-talked Zelda into taking the day off and driving me down. She’s waiting in the car—she and Quinn are going to go out for a little bit to give us some guy time. That cool?”

I glanced up at my wife, who stood just behind my friend, her hands laced together as she watched me. She was anxious about this, I saw—worried that I was going to be okay with Tucker and concerned that I’d be all right with her leaving for a little while. I gave her a broad grin and nodded.

“Of course, it’s cool. Go ahead and have a great time, Quinn.”

Her face relaxed as she leaned around the wheelchair to drop a light kiss on my lips. “I’ll have my phone. And Zelda and I are going to bring back Mack and Manco’s for lunch.”

“Okay. Maybe some fudge, too?” I wasn’t hungry for much these days, but my sweet tooth was still kicking.

“You got it.” Quinn hooked her purse up over her shoulder. “You boys behave now.”

As soon as we heard the screen door slam shut, Tuck turned back to me, smirking. “So. Married life, huh? How’s it treating you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not as good as it would be treating you, but in my very particular situation, I’m not complaining about anything. And since we’ve been living down here, life’s been pretty damn sweet. I mean, for a guy who’s about to die, anyway.”

Tuck nodded. He and I had never pulled punches with each other; rooming together for four years had meant that we knew each other’s deepest fears and darkest secrets, even if we never actually sat and poured out our hearts like girls did. This kind of shit sort of seeped out over time. I was aware of his difficult struggle to come to terms with partial paralysis after the injury that had snapped his spine. And he knew that I’d wanted to live the fullest life possible before death crept in and ended it all. We didn’t have to talk about it. We lived it, daily.

“Quinn seems happy. When I called her the other day about setting this up, she said everything was going well down here.”

“It is, I think, but I’m glad she can spend today with Zelda. Sometimes I’m not the greatest company, seeing as I’m sleeping so much. And my mom’s been working on being more patient, but she’s not exactly Quinn’s best friend. I know she missed both Zelda and Gia.” I paused a minute, tugging my blanket up a little higher. “So, speaking of Zelda . . . what’s happening there?”