Chapter 26 Cutter

Cutter

Nothing can prepare you to watch your only parent die.

There wasn’t a class to take, but according to my guidance counselor, I could read a book.

Who in the hell had time to read a book that wasn’t assigned as homework?

Certainly not me. Not with everything going on in my life.

Between school, basketball, and watching my mother disappear from my life, reading was the last thing on my mind.

Ever since Mom decided to stop treatment, each day I woke up, wondering if she was alive or if, by some grace of God, she’d fallen asleep after Nova and I had told her how much we loved her, drifting off peacefully.

Because that was what I wanted for her. To just sigh and let go, to stop fighting a winless battle, for my and my sister’s sake.

We weren’t going to be good after she left us, but we’d get there eventually. Toni would make sure of it, but she wouldn’t be our mom, and things wouldn’t be the same.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

I’d never come down the stairs and find her in the kitchen, dressed in the ratty robe I’d bought her ten years ago, or look in the stands or bleachers to see her cheering louder than any other parent.

I’d never get to hear her laugh, see her smile, or smell the perfume she loved to wear. If I’d known that this past Christmas was my last one with my mom, I would’ve tried to make it more special for her, but instead, I’d complained because I couldn’t see Eleni.

I’d never get to hear her yell my name to take out the garbage and then tell me she loved me when I came back from doing so. How many times could I say it now so that she’d remember when she was in heaven?

And Nova—would she even remember our mom? Would she remember the way Mom’s nose crinkled when she was about to sneeze or how every piece of art Nova brought home, Mom declared a masterpiece?

Would Nova remember how on rainy days, Mom liked to keep the window open just a little bit so we could hear and smell the rain while we were snuggled together on the couch, watching movies?

I knew it would be my job to remind my sister, to bring up funny stories about our mom, but what would happen after I’d forgotten? Who would remind me?

Would it be my job to put Nova’s Santa presents under the tree on Christmas Eve?

I had so many unanswered questions that would never have answers because there wasn’t a playbook for me to follow.

The clouds overhead didn’t move, making time seem as if it were at a standstill. I stared at them from my position on the picnic table. I’d ditched class to come out here. My teacher didn’t even bat an eyelash when I got up and left. What are they going to do, ask me what’s wrong? Everybody knew.

“Hey,” Eleni said as she climbed onto the table and lay next to me. “What are we looking at?”

“Heaven.”

She reached for my hand. “My grandpa is there.”

“Do you think he likes it?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so.”

“Do you think heaven looks the same for everyone?”

“I think heaven looks the way you want it to. It’ll be whatever gives the person comfort.”

My lips went into a fine line. I wasn’t sure if she was right, but if she was, then I’d bet my mom would want heaven to look like our house, with me and Nova being as loud as possible.

“It’s going to be okay, Cutter.”

I let her words settle over me and wait for them to make sense. Nothing was ever going to be okay. “You still have your parents, Eleni.” The last thing I wanted to do was hold that against her, but she didn’t know if things were going to be okay.

“I know.”

She seemed sad, and that wasn’t my intent. I sighed heavily and lifted my arm so she could rest her head on my chest. “Things are going to be different.”

“Is your aunt strict?”

“I don’t know, but I’m worried about Nova. Just don’t give up on me, okay?”

“Never, Cutter. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There were things in my life that I never thought I’d experience: watching my mom fight for every breath, not being able to get up and be with me and Nova and barely able to keep her eyes open.

Each day I wondered if this would be the end, and each night, when I would lie on the air mattress in her room, I wondered if tonight was the night.

I wanted her suffering to stop, but I wanted her better. I longed for her to look at me, smile, and tell me she felt better. Deep down, I knew something like this would only happen in my dreams. That was when everything was perfect.

That was where my mom walked among the wildflowers and the sun always shone brightly.

In my dreams, she wasn’t sick and dying. There she was, hugging Nova and me, and dancing barefoot around the kitchen while noodles boiled in water and pasta sauce simmered in a pot.

In my dreams, I never lost my mom. I planned to stay there as long as possible.

In my reality, my mom passed away peacefully, with Toni, Nova, and me telling her it was okay for her to leave, that we’d be okay, even though we knew we’d never be the same.

Toni promised to take care of her babies, while tears streamed down her face.

Nova and I promised to love her forever.

We told her how much we loved her, how she was the best mom ever, and how we’d never let her down.

We had to believe heaven was real and that Mom would be watching over us until we met again.

Grandma came and got us, leaving Toni with our mom. As much as I wanted to stay, I knew Toni needed a moment by herself. They had a relationship I never understood and probably never would. Grandma held us tightly and didn’t care that our tears wet her shirt.

The nurse who had been taking care of my mom made some phone calls, and people showed up.

Men who I didn’t know carried my mom out of our house for the last time ever and put her into the back of some nondescript car.

The next time we’d see Mom, she’d be in a coffin, and people would come to visit her and say goodbye. But would she hear them?

Within an hour, people were at our house. Coach Schmidt and Coach Levy, Eleni and Flinn, Samira and Vera, and our grandpa arrived, which was a gift. He gave the best hugs.

For the rest of the day, we sat around, no one really doing anything. Nova cuddled into Grandma’s side. Toni talked on the phone with a lot of people, trying to make arrangements for a funeral. Flinn, Eleni, and I sat on the porch. They didn’t talk, but just sat there with me. What could they say?

Sorry?

Sorry wasn’t what I wanted to hear. The word couldn’t fix or change any of what had happened.

After Coach Levy left, Coach Schmidt and my grandpa went and got food for everyone. Not that we could eat, but Grandma insisted there be something for people to munch on.

They returned with food from the diner. Everyone but me and Nova ate a full meal. I picked at some chicken while Nova ate some mashed potatoes. Toni didn’t eat at all.

When she left out the back door, Coach Schmidt followed, but Scout stayed with us. He was a comfort for us, and he seemed to know it. We’d talked about getting a dog a few times. It was probably a good thing we didn’t because who knew if Toni liked them or not.

So much was up in the air about life now, but one thing was certain: Tonight, when I went to bed, my mom wouldn’t be there.

She wouldn’t be there when I woke, came home from school, or scored my one-thousandth point.

She was gone, and there wasn’t anything I could’ve done about it.

No amount of love would’ve kept her here because if that was all it took, she would’ve lived for an eternity.

My grandpa helped me tie my tie. He’d taught me a couple of years ago, but I’d never had an opportunity to wear one. Things were different now.

Toni explained that Nova and I would stand at the back of the church and greet people as they came in.

We’d shake their hands or give them a hug, and we’d thank them for coming.

She wouldn’t stand with us but would be behind us if we needed her.

I didn’t want to do this, but according to Grandma and Grandpa, it was important for the people who were coming to pay their respects.

Everyone wore black, except me, Toni, Nova, our grandparents, aunt, and uncle. We wore purple because it was Mom’s favorite color. She wasn’t a big fan of black, and I wished the people who’d come to pay their respects had worn a different color.

People shook our hands, offered us hugs, and told us how sorry they were. People lined up to greet us, to offer condolences, and to be there to mourn.

For the most part, Toni stayed where she said she would. Even as people sought her out, she stayed behind. It was like she wanted everyone to see the best of Miriam Vaughn—she wanted them to see us.

And then an older man and woman approached, and Toni was next to me, pushing Nova behind us. I had no idea who these people were, but I sensed nothing good was about to happen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my uncle Rocco in the doorway, looking agitated.

The woman smiled the same smile as my mom, and I knew.

“You could’ve called,” the woman said to Toni.

Toni stood tall, and for the first time, I saw a different side of her. Her jaw locked, and she looked pissed; even when she was upset with me, I’d never seen her so rigid before. “I could’ve, but she didn’t want you there, and I will always do as she asks of me.”

“She was our daughter,” the woman said through tears.

“And you’ve had seventeen years to apologize.”

I swallowed hard as I watched the back-and-forth. While I knew who she was, the word refused to form in my mind. I knew what she had done to my mom when she found out she was pregnant with me.

The woman stepped in front of me. She took my hand in hers. “I’m your grandmother.” Instantly, my eyes sought out my grandma Carmela’s, and she came forward, her hand rubbing up and down my suit jacket.

“Hello, Victoria. It’s been a long time,” Grandma said as Uncle Rocco came over and took Nova away.

The woman tried to grin, but it was lifeless. “I just want to say goodbye to my daughter and meet my grandchildren,” she said. “Certainly, we’re allowed to do that?”

Grandma looked at me and then Toni before looking at the other woman. I couldn’t bring myself to give her any other title.

“We’ll happily talk after the service.”

Grandpa came to me and guided me out of the church with Rocco, Coach Schmidt and Coach Levy, and a couple of men I didn’t know who had worked with my mom. I didn’t get to hear what Victoria and her husband said to Toni, but I imagined whatever she said in return probably wasn’t nice.

The church doors closed, and the reverend stood there while the funeral director guided us in carrying the casket forward.

My mom wasn’t in there, though. She’d wanted to be cremated.

Half her ashes would be buried, and she’d have a marker with her name on it.

The other half would be placed in a box for us to decide what to do with.

Toni said we could spread her ashes in her favorite places or have jewelry made with some of them.

The doors opened, and the reverend led everyone into the church and down the aisle.

I walked behind the casket and reached for Nova’s hand as soon as I stepped into the vestibule.

Everything about this service was what my mom had wanted, with some additions from me and Nova.

I wanted to walk and told Nova she could sit with Toni, but she wanted to walk with me.

Once Mom was placed on the pedestal, we took our seats next to Toni.

All around, pictures of my mom were on easels.

Nova and I were in most of them. So was Toni.

But what caught me was the picture closest to us.

Mom wasn’t looking at the camera, but the sun.

It cast her in an eternal glow, and I imagined this was how she’d gone to heaven.

The reverend spoke, but I wasn’t listening. My mom came to church occasionally, but she never forced me to go. Maybe I would start as a way to get closer to her.

“To give the eulogy is Miriam’s son, Cutter.”

Toni patted my shoulder and gave me a reassuring nod. I stood and took my speech out of my pocket. At the podium, I cleared my throat and began.

“To you, she was Miriam. To her best friend, she was Miri. To us, she was Mom. But mostly, to all of us, she was a friend, a neighbor, ‘Cutter or Nova’s mom,’ and rarely, ‘Ms. Vaughn,’ because she wanted my friends to feel welcome in our home.”

I cleared my throat to fight off the tightening. Crying was something I didn’t want to happen in front of these people, but it felt inevitable.

“My mom lived life with her whole heart. Her pride and joy, me and Nova, her words, not mine,” I said as everyone laughed.

I sought out Toni, who smiled and nodded.

“We were her reason for everything. When she wasn’t working, driving me to practice or Nova to the library, or coming to one of my games, she loved digging in her garden and sketching plans for the henhouse she planned to rebuild.

“She had a dream to one day own an old farmhouse and was able to make that dream come true five years ago. My mom loved our house and spent her free time remodeling each room. But the porch was her favorite place. If Nova and I couldn’t find her in the house, we’d find her in the rocking chair, staring off.

Watching the sunset from her porch, regardless of the weather, was something she loved. ”

I cleared my throat as I looked at the words of my last paragraph.

“My mom was my best friend. For a while, it was just the two of us, and then Nova joined our perfect little family. We will never question whether our mom loved us because she told us every day, even on her last day. To our mom, my sister and I would like to say, ‘We love you, and every day we’ll continue to watch the sunset from the porch you loved so much, knowing that wherever you are, you’re watching it with us. ’”

I folded my piece of paper and bolted from the podium to my seat. Toni stood and pulled me into her arms for a solid hug, and then she pulled back and cupped my face.

“That was perfect,” she said.

A small smile formed, and I said, “She was perfect.”

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