Blue Wide Sky Read online

  “He must be lonely here by himself though,” I say, rubbing Eli’s neck and hearing his instant purr.

  “We could take him back with us,” Annie says. “Just until Sam gets home.”

  “Could we, Annie?”

  “Of course we can. I bet Sam would like knowing Eli has some company.”

  “I think he would too.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Do you have any kitty food?”

  “We can stop at the store and get some. How’s that?”

  I nod, and we get back in the car. Eli curls up on my lap, still purring. “You were lonely, weren’t you? Sam will be back soon. We’ll take care of you until then.”

  You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.

  ~ Ernest Hemingway

  Gabby

  I drive home to take a shower and change. It feels as if I have been wearing the same clothes for weeks.

  The house is depressingly empty without Kat here. I get in the shower and stand under the hot spray for a long time. I lean against the tile wall and close my eyes, wishing that I could climb into bed, go to sleep and wake up to find that this is all just some horrible nightmare.

  But it’s not.

  It’s real.

  I get out and towel dry, putting on my robe and brushing my teeth. I wash my face and put on some moisturizer, wiping the steam from the mirror to stare at my reflection. I see a broken person staring back at me. And I realize that I’m already letting myself believe that Sam isn’t going to live.

  Desperate for something to hold onto, I open up the trunk in my bedroom. It sits at the foot of my bed, and it’s where I keep things that are meaningful to me. Notes from Kat. Photos of us and things we love to do together. And my letters from Sam.

  I never threw them away. I don’t know why because when Sam married Megan, and it became clear that we weren’t ever going to be together, it would have been the normal thing to do.

  But I could never bring myself to do it. Instead, I stacked them up and tied them with a ribbon and bow, choosing to keep this part of what we’d had in a way I could keep nothing else.

  I untie the bow now, pull the top letter from its envelope. It is from the first summer we met. Sam’s dad had stopped their boat at our marina for gas. Sam left this note for me a few days after that.

  Gabby,

  You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Would you like to take a picnic with me tomorrow afternoon? My dad has said I can use the boat. I will come to the marina at one o’clock. If you don’t want to go, I will simply be the goober there getting gas. But I hope you do.

  Sam

  I smile at this memory. Remember how nervous Sam had been when he pulled up to the dock that day, how he’d dropped the tie ropes into the water and had to jump in after them.

  His face had been three shades of red when he’d pulled himself back onto the dock and finally secured the boat, dripping water as he turned to me and stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Sam Tatum.”

  “Gabby Hayden,” I said, smiling.

  “Off to a great start, aren’t I?” he said with a grin.

  “Actually, you are,” I said. “A lesser guy would—”

  “Pretend he was someone else and drive off into the sunset?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “But it wouldn’t have worked. I already knew who you were.”

  “You did, did you?” he asked, smiling bigger with the realization that I had noticed him the other day too.

  “You’re hard to miss,” I’d admitted.

  And I think from there, he lost the last of his embarrassment, because it was clear I liked him anyway.

  The next several notes are from that same summer. Through each one, I relive how much fun we had together, parking the boat in a secluded cove and talking about everything we’d ever thought about. Finding time and again how much we had in common. We couldn’t spend enough hours together. My whole world revolved around him.

  It was at the end of our junior year when Sam’s parents told him of their plans to move to South Africa for his father’s job.

  Dear Gabby,

  I don’t want to eat or do anything that involves living without you. It’s crazy that we’ll have to live apart. Life without you is like the sky being gray all the time. The sun can’t possibly shine through. What if we run away and get married? I know our parents would be mad at us, but they don’t understand how this feels.

  I love you so much, Gabby. Promise me we’re going to be together one day. To know that is the only way I can live through this time without you.

  Sam

  I remember what I had written back as if it were yesterday. How I told him I would be miserable without him, and what I wanted was to go somewhere, any place where we could be together. But we were both scared of disappointing our parents, of not being able to support ourselves, and so we had promised each other we would get through it.

  Waiting for Sam to leave felt like waiting for a death we both knew was coming. I realize now that I am feeling this exact same thing as I sit here reading his letters. Fearing the loss of him. Unable to imagine life without him.

  I put away the last of them, tie them up with their red bow and place them back in the corner of the trunk.

  All those years ago, I was helpless to stop Sam from leaving. Fighting the reason we were being separated would have done no good. But that’s not true this time. However he is here, I want him. I love him. I have never stopped loving him. Somehow I have to make sure he knows that.

  We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.

  ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

  Gabby

  At the hospital, I find Ben waiting outside the ICU. His face is drawn with worry and something that looks like resignation.

  “Can we talk, Gabby?”

  “Yes,” I say, unable to hide my apprehension. I follow him to a small room with a few chairs and a table in the middle. He closes the door behind us and turns to look at me.

  “Let’s sit down,” he says, pulling a chair out for me.

  “Please,” I say. “Tell me, Ben.”

  He sits down beside me, leaning on the table with his head in his hands. “It’s not good, Gabby.”

  “Can you help him?”

  “I believe I can remove the tumor. But the outcome is likely to be what Sam has already been told. Loss of memory, language, some motor skills.”

  “But he can live?”

  “I believe so. Just not as the Sam he is now.”

  Tears well up and fall down my face. “Will you do it?”

  “Gabby, I want to. I would do anything for my brother. But because of what he has asked of me, I need to know that I have his blessing. If I turn him into something he doesn’t want to be, I’m not sure I can live with that.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I want to lessen the pain meds to the point that he is aware. I’ll tell him what I want to do. And let him make the final decision.”

  “But what if he won’t agree to it?” I ask, my voice breaking in half.

  Ben presses his hand to mine and says, “Then out of love for him, we’re going to have to accept that.”

  When life seems hard, the courageous do not lie down and accept defeat; instead, they are all the more determined to struggle for a better future.

  ~ Queen Elizabeth II

  Sam

  The fog is lifting. I’ve been submerged in it. Unable to see beyond its thickness. But now I feel it thinning, awareness descending, the lights in the room, the pillow beneath my head, the muted sounds somewhere beyond where I am.

  As my mind starts to clear, pain begins to creep back in. A dull throbbing at first, muted, but there. The more awake I am, the more intense the pain. And when I finally open my eyes to try to see where I am, my head feels as if someone has inserted a knife into my skull, twisting the blade right and left.

  “Sam?”

  I struggle to pl
ace the voice. Ben. It’s Ben. I force my eyes open, struggling to focus.

  I see my brother standing next to the bed. His face is a mask of sorrow and fear. I try to speak, manage to force out, “Big brothers aren’t supposed to be scared.”

  “Yeah, well, right now, I don’t really want to be the big brother.”

  “I know,” I say, my voice barely audible. “It sucks.”

  I feel someone take my hand. I shift my gaze to the other side of the bed. It’s Gabby. Her face is the same as my brother’s, and I wince with the realization that I have caused this. “Gabby—”

  “Shh,” she says. “Just listen, okay.”

  I nod a little and blink with the determination to stay awake.

  “I need for you to know something,” she says.

  I wait in silence, because I can’t find the energy to speak.

  She leans in close, her voice soft and pleading. “Sam. Fight. Please. Fight. For you. For your children. For us. Whatever happens, I’m yours. I’ve never wanted to be anything else. Let me be here for you. Fight this, knowing that whatever happens, I’m going to love you. And not even you leaving this world is ever going to change that. Stay here with me. Whatever you have to face, we’ll face it together.”

  She breaks off there, kisses me on the cheek and says, “Please, Sam. Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, managing a broken sounding, “I don’t want to, Gabby. But if I stay, I won’t be me.”

  “We’ll rediscover you together,” Gabby says, “like when we first met.”

  Tears well up, and I’m powerless to hold them back. “Gabby—”

  She leans over and puts her arms around me, her head on my chest. “Don’t leave me again, Sam. Please.” She’s crying now. I think of all those years ago and how many tears she must have shed for me. And I want to stay. I want to try. To fight with everything I have in me to come out on the other end of this battle.

  I rub my hand across her hair, closing my eyes for a moment to reach for the strength I need to tell Ben what I want. I look at him then, my brother who is crying too.

  “There’s no doctor in the world I would take this on with except you, Ben. And whatever happens, just know that I will know you did everything that could be done. No guilt if it goes wrong, or if the outcome isn’t what we hope. Can you promise me that?”

  Ben nods, looking down at me with eyes filled with love. “Yes, Sam. I promise.”

  Selfishness is one of the qualities apt to inspire love.

  ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

  Gabby

  As soon as Sam’s pain medicine is increased, and he slips out of consciousness, Ben and I leave the room. I try not to listen as he calls Sam’s children to tell them what is happening. They are both flying over from London on the first available flight.

  “Are they okay?” I ask Ben, once he ends the call.

  “Pretty devastated,” he says, shaking his head. “They had no idea.”

  “Sam didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “No. It’s not hard to understand. He probably needed some time to figure out what he wanted.”

  “Thank you, Ben,” I say, my voice breaking. “For everything you’re doing.”

  “I just hope it’s enough,” he says, glancing down at his hands, as if he’s questioning their ability to carry through with saving Sam’s life.

  “No one will try harder for him than you, Ben.”

  “I’d like to thank you, Gabby. If you hadn’t come back into Sam’s life, I’m not sure he would be willing to take this chance.”

  “Is it selfish of me? To ask him to go through this?”

  “We’re all selfish when it comes to holding onto the people we love. I don’t want to let him go either.”

  I leave the hospital at just after two, driving back to the lake on winding Windy Gap Mountain Road, worries flashing through my brain like strobe lights, each one more blinding than the other.

  I drive straight to Annie’s house. When I pull into the driveway, she walks out to meet me. I get out and walk into her arms for a hug.

  “Tell me,” she says.

  And I do, the possible outcome of Sam’s surgery, my pleas with him to fight, even though I knew he’d already made up his mind not to.

  “Was I wrong to do that, Annie? What if it doesn’t work, and his agony is only prolonged?”

  Annie leans back and tucks my hair behind my ear. “He’s got one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. And it happens to be his brother. It seems like a gamble worth taking.”

  “But if he’s suffering—”

  “No battle like this is going to come without some measure of that. But if Sam made up his mind to take it on, he’s strong enough to handle it.”

  “Oh, Annie,” I say, my voice breaking.

  She pulls me into her arms and holds me like my mother would have, just giving the comfort she knows I need.

  The front porch door opens, and Kat walks out to meet us, her steps stiff.

  She joins our hug. I kiss the top of her head and say, “How are you, sweetie? I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I missed you, Mama. How is Sam?”

  I consider what to say, but then realize that she needs to know the truth. “He’s really sick right now. But his brother Ben is a surgeon, and we hope that he’ll be able to help Sam.”

  “What if he can’t?” Kat asks, looking up at me with worried eyes.

  “I believe he will. He loves Sam very much.”

  “We went to his house and picked up Eli. Annie said he could stay here too.”

  “That was really nice of you both.” I look up at Annie then and say, “I’d like to go to Baltimore for Sam’s surgery tomorrow. Ben wanted to do it at Johns Hopkins, and Sam is being transferred there. Would it be all right if Kat stays with you a little longer?”

  “As long as you need her to. She’s a joy to have here.”

  “Is that all right with you, Kat?”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” she asks.

  “I think it will be better for you to stay here and keep up with your schoolwork. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. Maybe we could run home and get you some more clothes and your school stuff.”

  Kat nods, and says, “Will you close the marina while you’re gone?”

  “I called Myrtle before I left the hospital. She said she and Timmy will be fine keeping it open.”

  “I could go over and help during the day.”

  “Thank you, honey. Let’s see how it goes.” I look at Annie and say, “I’ll bring her back after supper if that’s okay.”

  “See you then, sweet pea. I’ll keep Eli company until you get back.”

  I open the car door, then look back at Annie. “Thank you,” I say.

  “For what?”

  “Being my friend. No matter what.”

  “That’s what makes it a friendship,” she says. “The ‘no-matter-what’ part.”

  In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.

  ~ Abraham Lincoln

  Analise

  The flight is completely packed. And we’re in coach. The only seats we could get at the last minute.

  I hate coach. No, I abhor coach.

  Evan, on the other hand, is oblivious. He can sleep anywhere. Even in this ridiculously small, made for mini-humans, seat.

  The flight attendant comes down the narrow aisle with the drink cart. I do my best impression of a twenty-one year old, order a rum and orange juice and promptly get carded.

  “Nice try,” the attendant says with an irritatingly cheerful smile, as if she’s made it her life’s work to nail minors looking to cheat the system.

  I stare at the window and try not to roll my eyes. Anger crawls along my skin with an itch worse than the hives I had after a reaction to peanuts when I was ten. I have never been so mad or so scared in my life as I am right now.

  I elbow Evan to wake him up.

  �
�Huh?” he says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What did you do that for?”

  “How could Daddy do this to us?”

  “Analise,” he says, in the tone he uses when he thinks I’m being ridiculous. “I don’t think Dad is doing anything to us.”

  “Why didn’t he tell us?”

  “I’ve never had a doctor tell me I have a brain tumor, so I’m not going to act like I have any idea how I would handle that news.”

  “I hate your practical nature.”

  “I’ve been hated for worse.”

  “And how could Mom not come?”

  “They’re not married anymore, Analise.”

  “At one point in her life, she loved him enough to make us. How do people just divorce each other and not ever care again what happens to the person they used to love?”

  “We could ask Dr. Phil.”

  “Shut up.”

  “It’s not Mom’s place to be there. It’s our place.”

  “And who is this Gabby person that Uncle Ben said called him about Dad being in the hospital?”

  “Dad told me about her one time. When I turned sixteen. We had a talk about girlfriends. They used to date when he was that age.”

  “Why have I never heard of her?”

  Evan shrugs. “Because you’re judgmental and—”

  “I am not,” I interrupt, smacking him on the arm.

  “Okay,” Evan says. “Whatever.”

  “Did he love her?”

  “Yeah. He said he did.”

  “Why did they break up?”

  “She lived at the lake where Dad’s family spent the summers. When Grandpa had to go to South Africa for his work, they broke up.”

  “Because of Mom?”