Charade

              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,” She says. I don’t know how she managed to make her voice sound clear, stronger. Probably for me. Because she knows I need it.

              “Live your life,” she finally says. I have to look up to see her because I don’t know what she means.

              She sighs. Bites her chapped lip. “You can do anything you want, Colton. That’s all I’ve ever wanted you to know. You’re better than me. Better than your father. You can have anything. Be anything. Do anything…but live your life. If you decide college isn’t what you want, don’t do it because of me. I want you to find whatever you can that makes you happy and you hold it. You grab onto it with all your might. If I ever pushed you into anything it’s because I wanted you to know you’re better than selling drugs, going to jail. Nickle and diming it like I’ve had to do.”

              Selling drugs. Going to jail.

              Does that sound familiar? The things I hated my father for.

              Her eyes hold mine intensely. “Just be good…be happy. That’s all I want for you. And for you to know how one-of-a-kind you are. You are strong, loyal, caring. You make that girl out there smile like she has the world in the palm of her hand.” She pauses, breathing hard from the effort of so much talking. Then she whispers, “You gave me the world.”

              I’m begging myself to say something, but I can’t find the words. They’re locked inside me. Each time they try and slip through, a door closes on them, blocking them out.

              “You gave me the world,” she says again. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever done that means something.”

              “You made me who I am,” is what I manage to say. I hope it’s enough. Hope it’s right. When I look at her, her face is wet. Tears giving moisture to her lips that are turned up in a smile.

***

              Hours go by. I don’t even know how the hell many. They pass as she sleeps and breathes those raspy breaths. She hasn’t woken up again for so long. It’s the middle of the night now. All I have to do is look at the clock, but I don’t have the energy.

              Cheye

              Looking at her, I suddenly need her. To feel her and talk to her. She jumps when the chair squeaks as I stand. Without a word I walk over to her and pull her into my arms. Bury my face in her neck as she clutches at my back.

              And somehow…I feel better. Still broken and lost and angry, but not so alone too.

              I step forward and Cheye

              “I love you too. I’m not going anywhere. We make each other better.”

              I pull away from her. Put my hands on her hips. Dig my nails in because I need to hold her as tight as I can. And then lean forward and kiss her. It’s slow and healing. She moans and I swallow it down. Taste every part of her mouth. Give her mine. Push against her. Pull her to me.

              “I want to be someone,” I say when I pull away. “I don’t know who. I just know I don’t want to be the guy who sells weed. The one who busts his phone against a tree when he realizes he fell for a girl. Who goes to jail and takes it out on her because she’s there for his mom when he wasn’t.”

              “You are more than that,” she tells me.

              “I don’t know if I am, but I want to be.”

              “My mom loved me,” Cheye

              I kiss her again because she’s so fucking strong. In this moment, in the half-dark room while my mom sleeps on the bed next to us, we make our vows to each other. To stop pretending. To grow up. To do what the hell we need to do to not be the people who had to play a fucked up game of charades to fall in love.

We’re both quiet. Mom’s breathing is the only sound in the room. We lean against the wall, holding each other.

              “I couldn’t do this without you, Tiny Dancer.”

              “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

              I take a couple deep breaths before saying, “I don’t want to tell her goodbye.” But I have to. I know it. Know she’s probably waiting for it.

              “I know. I’m sorry.”

              I kiss her again. “I know.”

***

              Daylight has come and passed again. It’s the next night. Mom hasn’t woken up anymore. Maggie and the hospice nurse come in and out. Give medicine. Sad smiles. Her hand doesn’t hold mine anymore, but I try to hold on tight enough for both of us.

              I know what I need to do. Every time I open my mouth it won’t come out. So I sit here. Watching her die. Watching her suffer. Waiting.

              Mom doesn’t make any sounds beside the breaths that sound almost painful.

              Fucking do it.

              I look over at Cheye

              I’m scared to fucking death to do this, but proud too. Proud because I’m setting her free. Letting her be in the sunshine.

              I lean forward, my mouth next to her ear. My words are soft, only for her and me.

              “I lied to you last time you asked, but I want you to know, I’m happy. You never pushed me unless I needed to be pushed. You gave me everything and I swear to God, I’ll make you proud of me. For you…and for me too. I love you…” My voice breaks. The words unlock the damn that held my tears back and I finally cry. Cry for her. For me. For the whole fucking world who is losing her. “I’m happy. I’ll be okay. I’ll live for me, but for you too. You don’t have to worry about me. You can go… I have Cheye

              I swear her hand tightens on mine. Nothing else moves. Her breathing doesn’t change, but I know she hears me. I know she’s proud of me. I’m proud of me.

              “I love you. I’m okay,” I say again.

              I lace my fingers with hers and sit on the edge of the bed. I look at Chey and she comes over. She sits behind me, one hand on me and one on Mom.

              And we wait.

              Seconds.

              Minutes.

              Half an hour.

              Her breathing slows. Softens.

              “I’m okay,” I say again. Pick up her wrist. Kiss my name there.

              One more breath.

              I wait.

              And wait.

              She doesn’t breathe again.

              She’s gone.

~CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX~

Cheye

              Colt’s silent as the hospice nurse makes a phone call. He’s quiet as Maggie cries. I’m scared to death he’s going to pull away. That he’s going to run. Then I feel like a jerk for even thinking about that. Bev is gone. His mom just died. He just let her go.