Chapter 25 Antonia #2
It wasn’t fair to compare the two. They were night and day, each with his own attributes and flaws. Weston just was the sun and moon wrapped in a shiny bow.
I swallowed hard to clear my thoughts. My feelings didn’t matter because Miri and the kids were my priority. They needed to be my focus. Not the sexy neighbor.
“Did he pay?” Samira asked.
“Yes, but—”
“No buts,” Vera interrupted. “That’s a date, and he told Jerome, who told Lee.”
“Who in the hell are Jerome and Lee?” I snapped.
“Jerome is Weston’s assistant coach, and Lee owns the diner you went to the other night,” Miri said, her voice growing hoarser. “Lee and Weston are good friends.”
“Oh, who are we kidding: Weston is good friends with everyone in town,” Samira said.
“Regardless, it wasn’t a date. We talked about basketball and . . .” My cheeks flushed. I could feel them burning while these women stared at me with the same raised-eyebrow expression. I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up in the air.
“It wasn’t a date,” I tried to reiterate, but my voice failed me.
“He likes you,” Samira said. “I can see it in his eyes when he’s talking to you. He doesn’t sit with just anyone at breakfast—mostly Jerome, or he takes his food to go.”
“He’s being a good friend,” I countered.
“Or he’s flirting with you,” Vera said.
“Oh, he’s definitely flirting,” Samira said. “I see the way he looks at her during breakfast.”
I shook my head and glanced at Miri for some help, but she was almost asleep again. I thought about asking Samira and Vera to leave, but I figured they needed to spend time with her, whether she was awake or not.
It’d been so long since someone had flirted with me. I honestly didn’t know what to even look for. Other than Brendan, I hadn’t paid attention to another man in a long time.
I bit my lower lip, now wondering how many other signs I had missed.
“He’ll ask you out again,” Samira said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“The timing isn’t good,” I told her. “Miri and the kids are my focus right now.”
“Weston knows this. He wants to be there for you and the kids.”
“As a friend. That’s all I can take right now.”
The ladies nodded, but they had a little smirk playing on their lips, and something deep down told me this conversation was far from over.
By midweek, the news wasn’t good, and even though I’d expected that, it still tore me to pieces on the inside.
“Yesterday’s scans show the cancer has spread,” Dr. Frederick said.
“It was our goal to keep the clusters contained, but we’ve been unsuccessful.
” He rested his hand on Miri’s leg in what I’d come to see as a comforting gesture.
For the little time I’d known this doctor, he’d had an impeccable bedside manner.
Miri and I said nothing after he’d left. What was there to be said? She already knew I was sorry and willing to do whatever I had to fight for her survival, but even the doctors in the best hospital had said there wasn’t much to be done.
I crawled into bed and held Miri as she cried.
She clutched my blouse, her tears wetting the fabric, while my own fell onto the top of her hair.
For a moment, I thought that my tears could save her, that they held the cure she needed.
But even in my own fantasy world, I knew that was too far fetched to be believable.
Hope was futile. It no longer existed. Not that it ever did, but in the back of my mind, I hoped for a miracle, for all of this to be a nightmare, for Miri to wake up and be free of this horrible disease that had festered in her body until it was too late to do anything about it.
One of the nurses came in. She smiled softly as she completed her tasks, pressing buttons, reading printouts, and preparing to inject Miri with more drugs.
“No,” Miri said croakily. “I’m done.”
“Miriam . . .” The nurse trailed off.
“You heard her,” I said as I shook my head. “She’s done.”
The nurse nodded and backed away. I heard the door click closed softly.
“I want to go home,” Miri said, pulling me closer. “I want to go home and be with my babies.”
“Okay. I’ll let them know.” How those words had come out of my mouth was beyond me.
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back the body-shaking sob I felt coming on.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to die in the house she had always wanted, with her children by her side.
I would do whatever it took to make that happen for her, even though it was killing me on the inside.
It took me a handful of minutes to find the strength to move.
I knew once I did, this would be final. Before I left her room, I glanced at my lifelong best friend—the woman who had been my one true confidant and the only one who knew absolutely everything about me—and saw her for who and what she was: a warrior.
It took a couple of hours, but Miri was discharged.
While staff members got everything ready, I arranged to have someone come to the house every day from the local hospice center.
Knowing or seeing Miri in pain wouldn’t work for me or the kids, and I wanted her comfortable.
I emailed work and told them I was taking a sabbatical.
If they wanted to fire me, they could. There was no way I was taking precious time away from Miri. Then, I called my mom and cried.
When we arrived home, a few new cars were in the driveway. We walked in, both of us riddled with sadness, to find Miri’s friends there.
“Welcome home,” they screamed when she entered the living room. They’d surprised her with a homecoming, treating her as if she weren’t coming home to die, but coming home because she was going to live.
While they embraced her, I excused myself to the kitchen, where I found my mom. Her arms wrapped around me tightly. She held me as if she was trying to absorb all my pain.
When we parted, she wiped at my tears and kissed my forehead. “There are no words to ease what you’re feeling,” she said softly. “But I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. I just want to make sure she’s comfortable and . . .” I paused when I heard Miriam laughing. “And content. Her friends are making her feel that way right now. I guess I can’t be angry they’re here.”
“Nope, it’s how they’re going to grieve. While she’s your beacon, she’s their friend.”
I nodded and stepped away. The counters and small table the kids ate breakfast at were full of food. More food than we’d be able to eat.
“Weston said there’s a freezer at his house we could use,” Mom said as she opened a package of paper plates. “Some of this will need to go there, and some we’re going to eat now. Come on, help me put these platters on the dining room table for everyone to munch on.”
“How long’s this party?”
“Until they want to go home, Antonia.”
More people came throughout the day, bringing flowers and gifts, which were mostly nightgowns. At first, I found that odd but then realized how comfortable and easy to maneuver they were when needed. I never would’ve thought to share Miri this way, but Samira had.
Throughout the day, Samira sat with me and held my hand. She comforted me in a way I didn’t think was possible. She would lose a friend, too, a loss that would be felt by the entire community.
When Nova came home, she was delighted to see so many people at her house, especially her mom. I figured she didn’t understand, but she’d always remember that one time people had come to her mom’s party, and her mom had laughed and smiled. That’s what was important.
Weston brought Cutter home, and he, too, was shocked by the number of cars parked in the driveway. I helped him carry the food to his truck.
“Thanks for storing these.”
“It’s no problem at all,” he said as he stacked tin baking dishes in the back of his truck.
“Feel free to eat whatever.”
He laughed and said he would. With the last dish settled in his truck, he shut the door and looked at me.
This was the first time I’d seen him since we’d gone out to dinner, in what I was calling a nondate, despite what the ladies had told me.
Weston was handsome; there was no denying that. He also had me by twelve years, which I’d only figured out when I was on the phone with my dad. I used this moment, away from the melee in the house and the prying eyes, to see if the women were right—was he flirting with me?
I stood there with my arms crossed, acting as if I was disinterested so he wouldn’t catch me staring as I took him in.
It hit me right there and then. He didn’t even need to try and be sexy.
He just was. He exuded charm. It was like he had it in spades.
Tall, rugged, strong, and so masculine without being macho.
The other night, he’d shown me he could be playful, patient, intense.
This was a man who accepted a challenge and didn’t back down from hard work.
Weston wasn’t the type to ditch out for a tee time in Miami.
He was someone who gave up his weekends to help someone in need.
My throat tightened as visions of his arms flexing against his tight T-shirt when he’d rebuilt the porch flashed in my mind.
He adjusted his ball cap, showing off the graying at his temples, which, if forced to admit, I found sexy.
The man in front of me exuded kindness and empathy, which showed in his warm brown eyes.
Weston winked, and I blushed, which didn’t escape his notice. The smirk, slow and teasing . . . it could melt my resolve if I let it. He tilted his head in question.
I was in trouble if I didn’t put my walls up.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Lost in thought.”
“What about?”
If I wasn’t mistaken, he stepped a smidge closer to me.
“The other night, when we went to dinner, was that a date?”
Weston’s lips lifted into a smile as he tilted his head. “I’d like to consider it one.”
I opened my mouth to list the reasons why it wasn’t, but he held his hand up.
“I know you just came out of a long-term relationship and you’re going through some very heavy stuff right now, but I can’t help how I feel.
Ever since you walked into the gym—what was it, almost a month ago?
—I have done nothing but think about you.
You’re the first woman since my divorce who has sparked something within me, and that was before I even knew your name. ”
I didn’t know what to say, except, “How’d you know I was single?”
Weston’s lips went into a thin line, and then he laughed. “I believe the chain went from Miriam, to Samira, to Jerome, to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He smiled and touched my hip lightly, and I found myself stepping a bit closer.
“It seems I’ve waited for you for this long; I can wait a little longer if you’re interested. I don’t even need to know if you are, but I intend to come around until you tell me to take a hike.”
“I won’t do that,” I whispered, still unsure of where my head and heart were at.
“That’s good.” Weston gripped my upper arm, leaned forward, and kissed my forehead while trailing his hand down my arm until his fingers laced with mine. He squeezed my hand before letting go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Weston hopped into his truck, started it, and backed out of the driveway, but not before giving me a little wave. As soon as he was gone, I turned toward the house and caught Miri in the window. She smiled before turning away.
Before I went in, I turned and looked down the driveway and replayed his words in my mind.
Dinner had been a date, and a nice one, and the kiss, while not on my lips and unexpected, left me tingling with anticipation; even though I knew I’d see him tomorrow, my heart was ready for him to come back.
Maybe I could call him with a ruse that we had more food to give him.
Not that I’d need one to get him to come over.
Later, after everyone had left and the kids had gone to bed and I had Miri settled, we lay on our sides, facing each other.
“Do you want me to call your parents?”
“No, they didn’t want me when I needed them, and I don’t need them now. Let them read about my death in the paper.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding.
“Okay,” she said as she closed her eyes.