THAT SAME FRIDAY
Sara’s son quietly opened the door and peeked into the darkened room to see if she was still sleeping. Her voice came from the darkness, weak and labored.
“Jimmy?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Is it time?”
“Yes. Almost.”
Jimmy’s full name was James Kier II, which had a peculiar high ring for the grandson of a humble homebuilder. His name began evolving from the moment he was born, from little Jimmy, to Jim, to J.J., to Jim Jr., finally settling around high school on Jimmy. Jimmy stepped inside the room. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I was just lying here. Would you turn on the light?”
“Sure.” Jimmy flipped the light switch. His mother was in her flannel nightgown, the duvet pulled up to her chest, her bald head exposed. Bello, a black shih tzu, nestled in the crevice between her ankles. The dog looked up, then rolled onto his back, hoping to have his belly scratched. “Not now Bello.” Sara fumbled around for her cap, found it, and quickly slipped it on. “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “You shouldn’t have to see your mother bald.”
Jimmy sat down on the bed next to her. “Some women look pretty bald. You’re one of them.”
She smiled. “Thank you. Some men look handsome bald.”
“And the rest look like thumbs.”
Sara laughed. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. Juliet will be here in a few minutes. At least she had better be or I’ll miss my flight.”
“I know a couple of girls who wouldn’t complain if you did.”
“I know a few professors who would.”
“I know. Here, give me a love.”
She pulled him in close and held him as tightly as she could. “It’s been so nice having you home. I miss you when you’re gone.”
“I miss you too, Mom.” He reached over and stroked the dog’s long silky fur. “How’s Bells?”
“He’s a pain,” she said. “Can’t live with him. Can’t grill him.”
Jimmy laughed, then slid his fingers under Bello’s collar and scratched his neck. “And how are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” she said.
He looked up at her dubiously. “Yeah?”
“Maybe a little dizzy.”
“You should go back to sleep.”
“I need to get up. I have a meeting this morning.”
Jimmy’s brow furrowed. “What kind of meeting?”
She hesitated, knowing her answer would make him angry. “With your father and the lawyers.”
Jimmy reacted as she expected. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
“It’s okay.”
“What’s okay? That he drags you out of bed at his convenience? The heck with him. You just had chemo.”
“I agreed to the meeting. It was today or next week.” Sara exhaled. “I need to get this over with.”
“I don’t know why you bother with him. He’s a cold-blooded, selfish . . . ”
“Jimmy. Stop.” Sara spoke more sharply than she meant to.
“You know he is.”
“Don’t talk about him that way. He’s your father.”
“No jury would convict him of that.” He looked at his mother and felt bad for upsetting her. “I’m sorry. But for your sake, not his.”
She put her hand on his. “I understand your anger, Jimmy, but I don’t like it. If I don’t make it through this, he’ll be the only parent you have.”
“Mom, don’t talk that way. You’re going to beat this.”
“Of course I will. I just want you to think about it.”
He exhaled in exasperation. “I just don’t get it, Mom. Why are you still so loyal to him? He left you when you needed him the most.”
Sara looked at her son sadly. “History, I suppose. I know why your father is the way he is. And I believe there’s still a good man inside of him. He’s just lost himself for a while.”
“How do you know he’s not lost forever?”
“We all get lost sometimes. The trick is to believe that we’re worth finding.”
Jimmy smiled ruefully. “All right. Do you need a ride?”
“I’ll be fine. And you have a plane to catch.” She gently rubbed his hand. “How are the wedding plans coming?”
“Fine, I guess. Juliet and her mom have had trouble finding a reception center open on New Year’s Day. Everything available is too expensive.”
“I wish they would let us help.”
“I know. But her parents won’t hear of it. Anyway, Juliet is pretty much taking care of everything. She’s run me ragged the few days I’ve been here. The tuxedo shop, bridal photos, caterers. I can’t wait for vacation to be over so I can get some rest.”
Sara smiled. “Juliet’s a sweet girl. And it’s a special day for her, marrying the perfect man. You only get one of those.” She squeezed her son’s hand. “When do you get back?”
“My last final is on the nineteenth. I leave that afternoon.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
Just then a car honked. “There’s Jules. I’ll have her come in.”
“No, you better run. You don’t want to miss your flight. And Juliet’s going to want every second with you she can have.”
Jimmy smiled and stood but hesitated. He sensed that his mother wasn’t telling him everything. “Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“I’m worried about leaving you. I don’t feel like it’s the right thing.”
“Nonsense. I’m doing fine. And I have plenty of help and the best of care. Just go finish school and come back. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked at her a moment then forced a smile. “You better not be.”
“I promise.” Sara’s eyes filled with tears. “ ‘Bye sweetheart. Good luck on your finals.”
“ ’Bye, Mom.” Jimmy leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then walked out of the room. Sara waited until she heard the front door close, then swung her legs over the side of the bed, and, clutching the bedpost for support, got to her feet. She had less strength than she let on to those around her. She could feel herself growing weaker each day like a clock running down.
As she walked slowly to the shower she thought about the upcoming wedding. She wished that she could be more involved with the preparations but she didn’t have the energy. The truth was she knew there was a possibility that she wouldn’t even be around long enough to see it. Though Jimmy still clung to the hope that she would recover, it was only because he didn’t know how sick she really was. Only Sara and her doctor knew just how far her cancer had progressed and Sara wasn’t willing to lay that burden on her child. She never told him that the treatments she was undergoing weren’t meant to cure her—they were meant to manage her pain and prolong her life. If she could buy enough time she would realize her final goal of seeing her only child married. Then she was done, she told herself, and it didn’t matter what happened to her. At least that’s what she told herself.
