Chapter 26 #2
“But I'm also... I'm terrified,” I admit, the words feeling stupid as I say them.
“Even more than before. Does that make any sense?
It's like... before, it was this abstract ‘what if.’ This.
.. this thing in the future. Now... it's real.
She's okay, for now. And I feel like I'm just waiting.
I'm waiting for the bad day. I'm waiting for the meds to stop working.
I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I look at him, my gut twisting. “We're hiding this from our boss, Tim. What happens when... when we can't anymore? What if she gets really sick, and I... I don't know what to do?”
Tim is quiet for a long moment, just looking at me. He's not judging. He's just... listening.
“My little sister, Eva,” he says finally, his voice soft. “You know she has MS.”
I nod. I'd forgotten.
“She was diagnosed when she was nineteen,” he says, his gaze distant, fixed on the orchard.
“I spent the first five years of her diagnosis doing exactly what you're doing right now.
I'd call her every single day, and my first question wasn't ‘How are you?’ It was ‘How are your symptoms?’ I was just... waiting. Just like you. Every time she stumbled, I thought, ‘This is it.’ Every time she said she was tired, I was on WebMD researching new experimental treatments, convinced she was declining.”
He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh.
“It drove her insane. And it was driving me insane.
Finally, one day she just snapped. She sat me down and she was so pissed.
She said, ‘Tim, I love you, but you have got to stop.
I can't predict the bad days. They're going to come, whether I worry about them or not. All I can do is prepare for them and enjoy the hell out of the good ones in the meantime. And right now? You're ruining my good ones with all your anxiety.’”
He lets the words hang in the air between us.
You're ruining my good ones.
The truth of it hits me right in the chest. That's what I’ll be doing if I let my fear and anxiety about Maya’s health get in the way.
“You're scared,” Tim says, his voice kind. “It's because you care. A lot. I see it, man. It's written all over you. With Whitney...” He shakes his head, a quick, dismissive gesture. “This is different. What you feel for Maya... it's the real thing. And that's terrifying. But Eva was right.”
He leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
“Maya's health... yeah, it'll probably have dips.
That's just the nature of this stuff. But she doesn't need you to be anxious for her, man.
I promise you she's got that covered. What she needs is a partner.
Someone who meets her needs, whatever they are that day.
Someone who helps her out so that no matter how she feels physically, she has the mental and emotional support to just..
. keep living her life. Be the guy who helps her enjoy the good days.
And be the guy who brings her soup and listens on the bad ones. That's it. You can't control the rest.”
I lean my head back against the worn wood of the chair and close my eyes. The sun is warm on my face. Enjoy the good ones. Help her live her life.
It's so simple. It's so... right.
All the coiled-up tension in my shoulders, the knot in my gut that's been there for days, maybe weeks... it just unwinds. It melts away. I take a deep breath, a real one, and it feels like the first one I've taken since I saw her in that hospital bed.
“You're a good friend, Tim,” I say, my voice a little thick. “You always know what to say.”
“Nah,” he says, leaning back again. “I'm just repeating what my little sister yelled at me. But I'm here for you, my friend. You know that. Always.”
We sit in comfortable silence for another few minutes, just drinking our cider, listening to the farm. I feel... light.
Just then, I see Maya walking back toward us, her tote bag on her shoulder. She's not alone. Sphinx is trotting at her heels like a little flesh colored shadow.
She’s beaming. She looks completely relaxed, and her cheeks are flushed from the warm room.
Her smile is beautiful and genuine, and her eyes look bright and happy.
The last, tiniest shred of my anxiety gives way to a rush of pure, unadulterated affection that's so strong it almost knocks the wind out of me.
“Hey!” she calls out, her smile widening when she sees me. “I think I have a new best friend.” She scoops up the cat, who settles in her arms, purring.
“Sphinx is picky,” Tim says, standing up and looking impressed. “She must really like you.”
“She's a total sweetheart,” Maya says, scratching the cat's chin.
“Well, listen,” Tim says, stretching his arms over his head. “I'm heading over to the cider press restaurant for an early dinner. They're just firing up the wood-fired pizza oven. My treat. You guys in?”
I look at Maya. Her eyes are bright, and she's practically vibrating with happiness. “Wood-fired pizza? Absolutely, yes.”
“Awesome,” Tim says, grinning. “C'mon, I'll introduce you to the press master. He's even weirder than I am.”
Maya laughs, a real, easy sound that makes my heart do a stupid little jump. As she falls into step beside me, slipping her free hand into mine, I look at her. She's here. She's healthy. She's holding my hand, and she's smiling.
It's a good day. And I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it.