56 - Peyton
PEYTON
There were a lot of truths you had to face in life. Good truths and bad ones. Hard truths, that were sometimes bitter to swallow.
At the moment however, the truth of the matter was undeniable.
Theo’s father was dying.
“Hey, chin up, okay? We talked about this a zillion times.”
The man resting upright in bed looked a whole lot better than the last time we’d seen him. He’d gained some weight back. He’d regained some color in his face, too.
All of these things, we knew, were a result of him stopping treatment. And in doing so, we also knew, he was accepting the inevitable end.
“Ripley?”
Ripley stepped forward immediately, his smile bright as the sun.
“Yes, dad?”
Dad.
Theo’s father was a dad to us all, at this point. No question.
“Can you talk some sense into this kid’s head?”
Six months of cherished visits. Six long months of standing quietly by his bedside. On the bad days, we’d watched over him while he slept. On the good ones, we’d wheeled him outside, so he could feel the warmth of the sun on his face.
The four of us had taken turns caring for this man, as much as we could. And Theo — as well as his brothers — had loved us for it.
“Talk some sense into him?” Ripley laughed. “No, probably not. But I could hold him upside down out the window, if you want. Shake him a few times.”
Theo’s dad laughed, coughed, then laughed some more. “Think it’ll help?”
“No,” Ripley admitted. “Probably not.”
Theo rolled his eyes. Ripley stuck his tongue out at him.
“Ah, it’s just as well then.” The old man’s tired eyes shifted back to his son. “He always could talk circles around me, too.”
A hell of a lot had happened in six months. We’d taken off, and come back. We’d figured some things out, too. Good things. Important things.
The smoke finally did clear, just as we expected it would. Donovan Prescott’s empire had thoroughly fallen. The ruins, predictably, were picked over by people who’d waited a very long time for its inevitable demise.
And there had been a lot of those.
There were stories, and press releases, and plenty of photos of us thrown up all over the internet for a while.
But as always, attention was fleeting. It wasn’t long before newer, more interesting stories rose up, seizing the public’s attention.
Interest waned; over the course of a very slow month.
A few weeks after that, the news cycle had forgotten about us entirely.
“Peyton…”
“I’m right here.”
He reached for me, and I squeezed his frail hand carefully from the other side of the bed. Theo’s father looked around in a morphine-induced haze for a moment or two. Then he smiled, as his eyes finally settled upon me.
“When I was a kid, there was this amazing hill my father would take us to in the winter,” he began, fondly. “We’d ride sleds down it for hours and hours. The whole neighborhood would gather there, racing each other, every time it snowed. And you know what happened?”
“You crashed?” I guessed, adding a grin.
“Well, yes,” he admitted. “All the time, actually. Damn near split my face open on some rocks, once. But I mean, do you know what happened to the hill?”
“No, what?”
“Bulldozers showed up one day. They plowed the foot of the hill, and put up a huge retaining wall. Then they built a movie theater and an arcade. This was in the eighties, of course,” he went on.
“I was a teenager by then, so I loved those places just as much as the hill. I practically grew up there, looking for quarters on the ground, everywhere I walked. I must’ve spent thousands of them! So many childhood memories…”
I watched the man’s eyes lose focus, as he traveled back in time to his most cherished recollections. They must’ve been pretty amazing ones, too, because every last one of them made his smile grow wider.
“Eventually that was bulldozed too,” he explained, his smile fading.
“They put up an unimaginative line of identical stores, but they died quickly. And now that place is an empty strip mall. Broken glass. Graffiti. Cracked parking lot. The retaining wall is crumbling away, too. It’s all stained, and overgrown. ”
He paused, if for no other reason than to regain his breath. Oxygen was in short supply for him these days. As a result, we’d learned to be patient.
“I parked there not long ago, and I felt a sense of sorrow unlike anything in my entire life. You know what I mean?”
“Yes,” I told him. “I think I do.”
He sighed wistfully, his voice going low. “I want the sledding hill back. I want the arcade, and the theater back. I want my parents back.”
My eyes misted over, as he slowly shook his head.
“But those things are gone.”
I had to look away, searching for the strength not to cry. Colson was in the corner, dabbing at his eyes. Ripley was in even worse shape. But Theo… he’d been strong, this entire time. Stronger than I’d even imagined he could be.
“So, why am I telling you all this?” the man sniffed.
His expression went placid again. He even smiled.
“I’m telling you so that you can enjoy things now.
The past is gone, and none of us are guaranteed a future.
But the present?” He grinned at me and forced a wink. “The present is all you really have.”
He coughed again, pointing vaguely in our direction.
“Live for today, and live hard,” he instructed us. “Do that, and I promise you’ll never have many regrets.”
In three months I’d become very close with Theo’s father, as well as his brothers. I’d traveled with Colson, to see his own family. I’d cried tears of joy alongside Ripley, when he sought out a reunion with his foster siblings.
Yet more important than any of that, we’d become a family of our own. We’d gotten a place together, even if temporary, and were still settling in. Our bonds were unbreakable, and not just as three men and a woman. Not just as a throuple, either.
No. The four of us were cemented together, and growing stronger every day.
Together as one.
“Peyton…”
I looked down with pride upon the man who’d given me Theo. I loved him for that, if for no other reason. But it turned out there was so much more to love him for.
“You’re the woman my son fell in love with,” he coughed. “You know that, right?”
“I sure do,” I smiled, choking back tears.
“Promise me something, then.”
“Anything,” I said, and I meant it.
He blinked, smiled, and motioned me even closer.
“You’ll give me some grandchildren, then?” he whispered into my ear. “Nerdy little boys and girls, running around?”
My eyes found Theo’s. He might not have known what his father was asking me, but he loved me for answering, just the same.
“Yes,” I said, willing to say anything to placate this man. But also, in my heart, it felt like the truth. “Yes, I will.”
“Good,” he breathed out in a sigh.
“I just wish you’d be able to see them,” I sniffed, leaning close. “Watch them grow up.”
“Oh, I’ll see them,” the man smiled. “I’ll watch them grow up, and grow old, and find beautiful arcades of their own to play in.”
Now my tears did fall. They fell fast and freely, rolling down my cheeks. And I didn’t even care that they were splashing against his salt-and-pepper stubbled face.
“And every time one of them looks down, and finds a quarter on the ground?” The old man grinned, nostalgically. “That’s from me.”