Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (39 page)

Chapter 49

Dad was at her bedside when we got to the hospital the next morning; she was still asleep. Again I wished she wouldn’t wake up to the ugly truth. I wondered how she would react once Dr. Chin told her the prognosis.
How did an individual deal with news like that
I wondered. I tried to get a handle on how I would feel, if it were me. Right now I was so damn mad at the world for it being her. I felt the numbness spread through my body as we walked into the hospital. It was almost as if it were trying to protect me, not let the hurt be so painful.

“When you have a plumbing leak, you call a plumber to fix it. When you need your car fixed, you take it to a mechanic. Who the hell do you call when someone has terminal cancer, God?” I cried. “Even if he could, would he fix it, could he?”

Ryan
let me go on without comment. I knew he had his own sad thoughts to deal with. Mom was his confidante and friend too. When Dad saw us standing outside her door, he came out into the hall. I hugged him, and we stood in silence, holding onto each other. When he pulled away, I could see the tears in his eyes. He looked tired and fragile to me. Dad had always been the pillar of the family, never emotional, and it was hard to see him distraught.

“What happens now?” he asked.

“Dr. Chin will be here in about thirty minutes. If you want to talk to him first, we can do it out here. Then he has to go in and tell her,” I said.

“What are her options?
” Dad asked wringing his hands together.

“According to Dr. Chin
, it’s gone too far. I guess our only option is a second opinion,” I answered.

The look
on my dad’s face pained me. I could see the loss already in his eyes.

“
Ryan, thank you for being here last night for her,” Dad said.

Ryan
put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to him. I felt rag doll like.

“She
’s pretty tough, but that was news none of us could handle well.”

I could see Dr. Chin coming down the hall towards us.
His short black hair, kind eyes, and very thin frame; walking with sort of a waddle.

“Dad
, this is her doctor,” I said, motioning with my head.

D
ad turned around and waited for the doctor to reach us.

“Dr. Chin,
” the doctor said, extending his hand.

“Sorry to have to meet you
under these circumstances,” Dad said, shaking his hand.

“I totally understand
. Let’s step over to the waiting area. I’m sure you have some questions,” Dr. Chin said, motioning for us to move down the hall.

We
followed him to the sitting area. Ryan held my hand while Dr. Chin and Dad revisited what we had gone over last night. The words felt like droplets of water that refused to sink in, that I didn’t want to be real, and yet I knew them to be true. He described the brutal details of how the cancer would get worse, and then ultimately kill her.

She
’d been so excited to help in all the details of the wedding. I wasn’t sure how that would work now that our world was forever changed. The thought of trying to plan a wedding while she was dying seemed impossible.

While
Dr. Chin explained everything to Mom, I sat on her bed, holding her hand, Dad on the other side holding her other one. She didn’t cry. I wasn’t sure if she comprehended it, or if it was so overwhelming, her brain wasn’t processing it. She thanked the doctor for what he tried to do. When he left the room, she slowly surveyed the three of us, no words, just looking into each of our faces one by one.

“Mom
, we can get other opinions. Maybe another doctor will have other ideas,” I said softly, my eyes welling with tears.

She
squeezed my hand.

“We can do that
,” she said calmly. “But if what Dr. Chin says is true, it’s all right. I’ve had a good life.”

She smiled at me, the same beautiful smile that she always had.
The lump I felt in my throat rose, and I concentrated on pushing it down. I didn’t want to cry and make her cry. I could feel my heart break into tiny, tiny pieces. She squeezed my hand again. Dad bent down and kissed her, and I could see the love between them, the love that had once been there and that was back.

“
Morgan, it’s all right. I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, we have wedding plans to finish,” she said cheerfully.

The sob burst out unexpectedly
, and I ran out of the room into the hall. As the tears flowed uncontrollably, I made my way to the sitting area. I sat down and hugged my knees to me in pain.
How could this be?
I knew life wasn’t fair, but this seemed beyond unfair, it seemed cruel. If there was a God how could he be so mean? It was several minutes before Ryan sat down next to me. He waited patiently for me to pull myself back together.

“I didn’
t want to cry, make her cry. Is she okay?” I asked.

“Amazingly
, I think she will be fine. It’s the rest of us I worry about,” he answered, his voice breaking.

I looked up at him and laughed through my tears.

“You’re right, you know,” I said.

He wiped my cheeks
, wiping the tears away. He cupped my face.

“I lov
e you,” he said, kissing me gently.

Pat came flying down the
hall suddenly and stopped in front of us.

“What the hell is going on
? I got a message that Mom’s here,” he said, breathing hard, his face flushed.

“I left those yesterday
, Pat. What the fuck? Tracking you down is a joke. You might fucking check in with your family now and then,” I ranted.

I was emotionally and physically exhaus
ted. I had left messages with several of his friends, not knowing exactly where he was. We had been so close once, and it didn’t seem to be that way anymore. Our lives had taken different paths, and he was lousy about keeping in touch.

“Sorry,” he said.
“Why is Mom here?”

“Well
, after being rushed into emergency surgery yesterday with us being told it was a ruptured appendix, it actually turned out to be cancer. Terminal cancer,” I said, my voice again composed.

Pat put his hands over his face
, and his body visibly slumped. I got up and put my arm around him. When I did, silent, racking sobs shook his body. I pulled him tightly to me and held him.

“She knows
, Pat. She took the news remarkably well. Dad’s in with her now. Pull yourself together a little before you go see her,” I said, rubbing his back.

He wiped the back of his hand hard across his eyes.

Mom would be allowed to go
home in a couple of days, and we all needed to gear up for coping on a day-to-day basis. That night, Ryan let me cry myself to sleep in his arms. He didn’t try to tell me it would be okay, he just simply held me. Pat called me the next day and wanted to know every detail of what happened. We cried, and he was overwhelmed with guilt for not being around. He was close to Mom too, and he simply could not believe there wasn’t another answer.

Cha
pter 50

We spent the next several
months talking to different doctors and doing research. Mom was more focused on planning the wedding than her health. She and I spent time shopping for her dress, deciding on a menu, getting invitations out, and all the other details. I let her push it along because it was what she wanted. In between, we went to the beach and took walks and drank martinis at Jake’s Restaurant, and now and then we talked about death. I looked at my life in minutes now, and promised myself to treasure them all. To drink in all that I could of her.

D
ad and Pat refused to believe we would not find a solution. They both were in complete denial about the probability of her dying. That left Ryan and me as the ones she could talk honestly with about any negative thoughts she had.

She confessed to keeping the doctor
visits to herself, not wanting to alarm anyone. She went initially because she felt fatigued. Once they found her to be anemic and started the battery of testing, she kept it quiet because they were coming back inconclusive. Why worry us when there was nothing to worry about? She told us she was gardening one day during the testing and had a premonition that it wasn’t going to be good news when it came. I pictured her in her garden, something she enjoyed doing, her pink gloves, remembered the day I came to tell her about Ryan and I moving in together.

We found a doctor at UCLA who thought there might be a small chance
he could get at the cancer and seed it with radiation that would kill it. It was a long shot, but we all agreed she had to try, and she went into surgery again two months before the wedding. The hope the doctor gave us was like a lifeline, and we hung onto it tightly. When it didn’t work, it was another big blow to all of us except Mom. Through everything, she took on a Pollyanna attitude, always looking at the bright side. If she wasn’t feeling well, well, tomorrow would be a better day.

It was a windy, cool day on the beach, but the sun was out. It was just the two of us, and still she wanted to walk alone. I sat on the rocks and watched her in her jeans rolled up to her knees to keep them from getting wet and a light pink jacket. I watched her move along the shore, her gray hair tossed around by the breeze, bending now and then to pick up a rock or shell from the beach. It was late in the day, and the sunlight spread itself across the water. It was beautiful, the sun reflective in the water, which ran up on to the beach, the blue sky with colors streaked through it; the pinks in the sky almost matching her jacket.

I got
out my camera and took pictures of her against the ocean. It didn’t seem possible that she could be dying right before my eyes.
How much more time would I have?
Ryan had to listen to me ponder this often, and many times angrily. He was such a saint: helpful and supportive in everything he did. I felt guilty, as this should be a happy time for him, planning a wedding, his wedding. Mom wouldn’t allow many moments of sadness; it wasn’t in her makeup.

“
Don’t look so serious. What are you thinking about?” Mom asked pulling me back.

I looked up
, and she was standing next to me, her hands full of treasures she’d picked up, her feet covered in sand, her hair blowing across her face. I realized I’d stopped watching her, had drifted off in my thoughts. She flipped her head to the side to try and get her hair out of her face. She was still here for now; I smiled at her.
Why do you have to go?

“
Ryan,” I answered with a grin.

“As you should be
,” she said. “You got yourself a good one in Ryan. I’m so thankful everything worked out.”

She set her rocks and shells on the towel next to me and
wiped her hands on her jeans.

“
I think it’s time for a martini,” she said.

“Couldn’t agree more
,” I said, standing, brushing the sand from my own pants.

I
climbed off the rock and joined her on the sand, which was cool on my bare feet. She linked her arm through mine, and we headed towards Jake’s.
Remember this day.
It was early for the dinner crowd, so we were able to get our favorite table by the window. Some of the treatments she’d been getting had made her weak and I was helping her get her jacket off when the waiter arrived.

“What can I get you ladies today?” he asked
in an upbeat manner, pulling the chair out for Mom.

“Two
gin martinis, straight up, dry, and dirty,” I answered.

I set my bag down
and took the chair opposite her.

“Two olives please
,” Mom added politely.

“You got it
,” he said, leaving us.

I watched him walk away.
He was short, but he had a good build, brown hair with light streaks in it. He looked like a surfer type, probably waiting tables so he could surf. He was young, and I suddenly wondered if he’d ever dealt with someone he loved dying. I wondered if anything had ever turned his world upside down and knew that at some point in his life something would. It was too sad. I looked at Mom. She was staring out the window.

“Why did you want to walk alone?” I asked.

“To be alone with my thoughts. Don’t you ever feel like that?” she asked.

I understood what she meant.

“I guess
.”

She lifted her chin and squinted as if she saw something interesting outside.
I followed her gaze: a woman with a small girl trying to fly a kite.

“Were they sad thoughts?”
I asked.

“No.
Just memories. It’s funny how so many things can flood back that you’ve forgotten about. There are so many pieces to a life, like a puzzle,” she said.

She seemed far away, so I waited for her to come back to me
, observing every inch of her face, trying to burn it into my mind.

“
What do we have to do next week for the wedding?” she asked, suddenly turning to me.

“Flower
s,” I answered as the waiter set down the martinis.

I
picked up the frosted glass and took a sip; it was perfect.

“Yum,”
Mom said.

S
napshots ran through my head: the places and times we had shared a cocktail or a glass of wine. Times we enjoyed each other’s company, and the laughter that went with it. I saw us on our last trip up the coast when I was heartbroken about Ryan, and she was trying desperately to make it better, to kiss the boo-boo away.

“Ryan’s been so great about letting us do so much of the planning together.
I know he’s backed off from some of it because he knows you want to be involved. He’s coming with us for flowers, though; I want him to be there,” I said.

She smiled.

“While I was away, and Ryan kept coming to talk, why did you keep pushing him? What made you believe we were meant to be together?” I asked.

“
I never pushed him, Morgan. I don’t want you to ever think that, to ever think I had the ability to convince him of anything,” she said.

She fidgeted
, and I knew she wished she could have a cigarette.

“
From the moment I saw Ryan look at you, that very first time in Park City, I thought he loved you. The sparkle I saw in his eyes, men don’t get that over just any girl. Then I doubted myself over the years because the two of you danced around one another. When you started dating, I thought you both had finally figured it out. I knew you had because we talked about it,” she said.

She stopped for a minute, seeming to collect her thoughts.

“I didn’t see Ryan’s hiccup coming. When you broke up, I saw a man who was desperately in love, but who wasn’t seeing it himself. He expressed some fears, but most of the time he talked about how you made him feel, and how much fun the two of you had together. I was his sounding board. I listened so he could hear himself. What he finally realized is that the good in you far overshadowed any of the fears.”

“I feel bad you were
so involved and had to go through so much with us,” I said.

“Nonsense
, I wanted to be there, for both of you,” she said slowly rolling her head to one side.

“Mom
, what makes you sad, about now, I mean? You won’t let me talk about it very often. I know you don’t want us sad, but we are anyway,” I said.

She looked at me and sm
iled, then took a sip of her drink. When she set it down, she looked out the window at the ocean again and contemplated.

“
Overall, I’ve had a good life,” she started. “It makes me sad it’s not going to be longer. Sad I have to leave all of you, miss things. I won’t get to experience so much of what will come in your’s and Pat’s lives. I’m sad that Dad and I have gotten close again because I’ll never know if we could have gotten it back, be in love again. Sad I won’t get to see your and Ryan’s babies. Sad I won’t get to walk on the beach and see the beauty of the world that surrounds us,” she said serenely.

I watched her as she spoke
. I hadn’t thought she would give me so much. She didn’t look at me. I was glad, as I could feel the tears pressing behind my eyes. I took a drink of my martini, letting her words sink into me. I watched the surfers sitting on their boards in the distance, and now and then one caught a wave.

“Another round?” the wa
iter asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes
, please,” I said, my voice cracking.

M
om looked at me when she heard it. I took a deep breath and focused, not letting the tears come.

“You’ll see the babies
, Mom, just from a different place,” I said softly. “When those babies come, you watch over them, okay? Be their angel.”

She smiled.
We’d talked about Heaven. Even though she’d “escaped” the Catholic trap at an early age, she still believed in God and Heaven. We understood without saying as much, that it would be from Heaven where she would be seeing the babies. I reached for her hand and held it tight. We went back to watching the ocean. She wanted to be cremated and had decided her ashes should go into the ocean. It was a place of comfort for her.
I will always see you at the ocean.