As she moved around Adam’s bed, adjusting his pillows and checking his vitals, she began to ramble. “So, Adam gets intravenous drips every four to six hours. It’s pain and antiseizure medication and we keep a line in him for fluids but . . .”
“But otherwise, he’s not being monitored?” I said.
“He is. But you know . . .” She hesitated, looking up at me. “I’m monitoring him from the station.”
I knew what she was getting at.
She stuck a tongue depressor in Adam’s mouth and peered in while she went on. “There’s a track out in back that you can take him around in the wheelchair. There’s a little garden, too.”
“How long can Adam be outside?”
“Well, as long as he’s here for his meals and medication. I check in every two hours to take his vitals, but if he skips once, it might be okay.”
“Uh-huh.”
The whole time the nurse was talking, Adam was just sitting there, happily watching me.
“Charlotte, are you gonna push me around the track?” he said.
“Maybe, if you’re lucky.”
He winked at me. The nurse was smiling as she left the room.
“What’s your plan, small-fry?” he said.
I gripped the handles on the wheelchair and pushed it back and forth a couple of times. “You want to go for a ride, Adam?”
“You’re talking dirty now.”
I laughed. “Come on, you can stand, right?”
He tore his covers off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The nurse returned a second later and, without a word, she unhooked his saline bag, leaving the line in his hand but disconnected. She fiddled with a few other things and then helped me guide Adam into the chair. I put the footrests down and brought his feet up from the floor to rest on the metal flaps. “Your feet are freezing.”
“I’ll grab him some socks,” Leah said. When she returned, she handed them to me and pointed out, in a low voice, “The wheelchair collapses from the lever on the side.”
There was no reason for me to know that unless I was taking him in a car off the property. “Thank you. We’ll be back in an hour and a half.”
“It can get pretty congested on the track. He needs to receive his medication or he’ll have a seizure. Just be wary of the traffic. You know, in the hallways and whatnot?”
“Right, hallway traffic.”
On the back of the wheelchair there was a little bag with sunglasses, ChapStick, sunblock, and hand sanitizer. “Are these yours?” I said, holding the black Wayfarer shades out to Adam.
“Yep.” He put them on and smiled wide at Leah as we passed her on our way into the hallway. “Bye, Leah, see you in a bit,” Adam said.
18. Circumstances
I pushed him quickly to the elevator without making it too obvious that we were doing something wrong. The adrenaline rush, on top of my mounting emotions, was overwhelming but gave me a high that felt a lot like love, though I couldn’t afford to let my mind go there.
Adam didn’t speak. When I reached my Honda in the parking structure, I was thankful that no one was around to see me carting him away in his hospital gown. I pushed him up to the passenger door. In a hushed tone, I said, “You wanna come to my house with me so I can get some things?”
“Yeah, I’d love to,” he whispered back. His enthusiasm was sweet. I was worried about taking Adam, but I couldn’t leave him. When Leah said they were just trying to make him comfortable, I knew they weren’t really preventing anything; they were just managing him toward death. He didn’t need to be stuck there. I couldn’t believe that he was his mother’s only child and she was just going to leave him there to die alone.
As I helped him into the car, I said, “Has anyone come to see you?”
“Oh yeah.”
I tried to pull his seat belt across but he gripped my hand. “I can do this myself.”
“Okay.” I rushed to the back and opened the trunk. The wheelchair collapsed easily, but it weighed forty pounds and was awkward to lift. I hoisted it into the trunk and dropped it in with a thunk before quickly shutting the hatch.
When I got into the driver’s seat, I turned the key and was blasted by the stereo. I had forgotten that it was turned all the way up, blaring The Black Keys.
“Agh!” Adam yelled, jumping an inch out of his seat.
I turned down the music. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“I’m already dying of cancer, Charlotte. You trying to give me a heart attack, too?”
“I’m really sorry.”
We both laughed. Adam glanced in the back seat and spotted a Padres hat that Seth had given to me. “You a Padres fan?” Adam asked.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Cool. I like baseball. Maybe we can go to a game, you know, before I . . . before I kick the bucket.”
“Adam,” I warned, “don’t talk like that. And you know I can’t take you away from the hospital for that long.”
“I know. I just think it would be fun to see a game together.”
“It would be.” I weaved in and out of traffic as I made my way downtown.
When I pulled into the space in front of my building, Adam pointed up at the mural of the wolves and smiled. “Hey, I painted that.”
“I know. Don’t you remember coming here that night when we met?” I turned the car off.
Adam blinked as he stared up at the mural. “No. I remember painting it. When we met, things were getting really foggy for me. I remember being with you at the loft but before that, not much else.”
“This is where I live.”
“Oh, if I would have known that . . .”
“You would have come looking for me?”
Without looking at me, he reached over and covered my hand with his. “Would you have wanted to be found?”
“I came to the hospital, didn’t I?”
“But right after that night?”
“Adam, I thought it was just a one-night stand for you. I had no idea of the circumstances. I was heartbroken.”
He looked over at me and took his sunglasses off. “I’m truly sorry. I was heartbroken, too.”
“The situation got all messed up,” I said.
He put my hand down and looked over. “Yes. It did. We could have had seven extra months together to fall in love. Now, who knows how much time we have.”
My stomach dropped, my mouth started watering, and my hands got clammy. “I . . . I . . .”
Adam smiled finally. “I’m kidding. It’s sweet that you’re taking pity on me now. I’d be bored to death in the hospital. This is like volunteer work for you.”
“Stop. I don’t pity you. I like you,” I said, and I meant it.
“Sure you do.”
I grabbed my phone from the center console and dialed Blackbird’s. When Jon-Jon answered I said, “Hey, it’s Charlotte. I fucking quit.” I hung up and looked over at Adam. “See?”
“Wow! I can’t believe you just quit like that.”
“I learned from the best.”
“But how will you pay your rent?”
My expression went blank. Shit.
“You know what? Don’t worry about it. I have some money I can give you to cover your income for a while. Would a few hundred grand do it?”
I stared at him. He was serious.
“That would cover my income for, like, ten years, Adam. But I’m not taking your money. I want to do this, okay?”
He nodded.
“Now stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I ran up the stairs to my apartment, where I found Chucky reading on the couch. “Hey, shitbag, can you help me for a sec?”
He didn’t look up from his copy of Dental Practice magazine. “In that case, Fatbutt, yeah. Anything you need.”
“I’m serious.” I leaned over the couch and got in his face. “I’m serious. Please. Can you come down to my car and help me?”
He huffed. “With what?”
“Just come with me.” I dragged him by the hand. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Chucky froze. “What is that?” he asked, staring at Adam in the passenger seat.
“It’s a human, dumbass. He has brain cancer and he has limited use of his left side. I need you to help me get him upstairs.”
Chucky stayed glued to the step he was on. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Is that a hospital patient? Is he wearing a hospital gown? Charlotte, you’ve really done it now. What are you doing with him? Please tell me this is for charity or something.”
“Listen, it’s a long story.” I yanked on his arm. “Just come on, help me.”
When I opened the passenger door, I said, “Adam, this is my brother, Charles. Charles, this is Adam.”
Adam shoved his right hand out for a handshake and Chucky did the same in response. “Nice to meet you,” Chucky said hesitantly. He turned and mouthed at me, Adam?
“You, too,” Adam said.
I helped Adam stand and then slipped one arm around him and anchored his body to mine. Chucky followed suit on the other side as we made our way to the stairwell. Halfway up, Adam laughed.
“What?” I said.
He looked down at the bottom of his hospital gown. “Drafty.”
“I bet. Do you want some regular clothes while you’re here?”
Adam had gotten thinner since that night we had spent together and he was weaker and far more frail. “I’ll be fine,” he said.
“Okay.”
Chucky was quiet all the way up the stairs. We helped Adam onto the couch, and I handed him the Dental Practice magazine. “I’m afraid this is the best literature I can offer you right now. Can I get you some water?”
He looked at the magazine strangely. “Sure.”
In the kitchen, Chucky came up behind me. “Tell me what the fucking deal is. He’s looking at you like you’re his girlfriend. Aren’t you dating Seth?”
“Meet me in my bedroom in a minute.”
I handed Adam the water. “I’m going to gather some things I’ll need at the hospital for a few days so I can stay there with you.”
“Perfect. I’ll just read this weird dental magazine. Why do you have this, Charlotte?”
“My brother is finishing dental school. I think I told you that the night we were together?”
“That’s right, I remember something,” he said, though I wasn’t sure if he actually did. He shivered, so I tossed him the skinny blanket I had made during my crochet phase.
He held it out. “This is interesting.”
“It’s warm. It’s a blanket.” I could hear Chucky behind me, muffling a laugh. My skinny blanket had become a family inside joke.
I rolled my eyes and scurried off to my room as Chucky trailed me. After closing the door, I pointed at my now derisive brother and ordered him to sit on the bed. I pulled my overnight bag from the closet and began filling it with the things I would need.
“Okay, Charles, listen. That’s the guy. The painter. I spent one night with him. He forgot where I lived because he fucking has brain cancer, which I just discovered, like, two days ago. He’s the guy that painted the wolves on the outside of this building.”
“And he forgot that you lived here?”
“He had a tumor that was making it hard for him to retain short-term memories, but he remembers some of the night we spent together.”
“And you like him?”
“Yes.”
“What about Seth?”
I stopped packing. “Seth knows. He’s the one who told me to go see Adam.”
“So you’re just gonna leave your boyfriend for a guy you spent one night with? I mean, it’s your life, but seriously, you never learn.”
“Seth is not my boyfriend. We went on a couple of dates.”
“I still think you’re crazy.”
I went to the bathroom to grab toiletries. As I passed Adam, he shot me a huge grin. When I returned to my bedroom, I sat down next to Chucky.
“Adam is dying, okay? And they don’t think he has much longer to live. I’m going to do this. I’m going to take care of him. However long it takes. I’m doing it for me and for him. Do you understand, Charles?”
There was a hint of sympathy on his face. “Dad’s gonna freak.”
“Why?”
“Because he actually likes Seth.”
“He’s never even met him. He likes the idea of Seth.”
“But you said he was a good guy,” Chucky argued.
“He is,” I shot back. “That’s not the point. If Dad understood what I was doing, he’d support me. Now will you go out there with Adam and be nice?”
He shook his head but got up anyway and walked to the door. A moment later I overheard him making small talk with Adam.
When I finished packing, I found Adam and Chucky laughing on the couch. “Can you help us get down to the car, Chuck? I need to get Adam back to the hospital.”
“For this guy, no problem.”
While Adam stood between us, he leaned over toward me and pecked me on the lips. Chucky caught the moment but didn’t say anything.
We helped Adam into the car, then my brother followed me to the driver’s side. “I’ll talk to Dad. I get it, okay?”
“Thank you for understanding. I have to do this.”
“I know. But if you don’t really love him, don’t—”
“I can’t think about that right now, Chucky. It will all make sense someday.” I had a moment of déjà vu. Adam had said the exact same thing to me months ago.
“All right, sis.” We hugged and it felt awkward but I decided that if I hugged him more often, it wouldn’t feel that way. In that moment, I promised myself I would hug Chucky more.
* * *
ON THE WAY back to the hospital, Adam was quiet. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Just feeling a little tired is all.”
Thankfully, there was only light traffic. The moment I entered the parking structure, Adam dropped his head and groaned.
“Oh, god, hold on, Adam. We’re almost there.” I floored it to the second level and zipped into the first open space. I ran to the back of the car and lifted the wheelchair out, then zoomed around to the passenger door. When I opened the door, Adam looked up at me with a pained expression. I bent and reached around his waist. He threw his arms over my shoulders so I could lift him into the chair.
While I was swiveling him over to the chair, his mouth was near my ear. “I didn’t picture this part,” he whispered. “I don’t like it.”
I set him down. “You don’t like me helping you?”
“It feels shitty. I want to hold you up, not the other way around.” Until that point, Adam had been all smiles and laughs.
“You’re not feeling well. I think you need your medication.”
“That’s not it,” he mumbled as I pushed him toward the elevator.
Back inside his hospital room, Leah, the nurse, came in right away and helped Adam get back into bed. She scurried around, hooking him back up to lines and dialing in his medications. She glanced at my overnight bag and then looked up into my eyes and smiled. “He’ll probably nap for a bit from the meds, and then he might need a sponge bath later. Did you want to . . .”
“I don’t think Adam wants me to do that.”
“What’s the difference?” he barked.
“What do you mean, Adam?” I went to the side of the bed.
He scowled. “You or her. It sucks either way. Charlotte, you don’t have to do any of this. You should just leave.”
“What’s come over you? A few hours ago you were so happy to see me.”
His eyelids got heavy; he started mumbling.
“Adam?” Leah said. “I’m going to lay your head back now.” She stood on the other side and pressed the button to recline the bed until he was lying flat.
She spoke to me in a hushed tone. “Can I talk to you in the hall?”
I nodded, and then followed her out of Adam’s room.
“So,” she said, “he has mood swings. I should have mentioned that before. The medication does it to him. You can’t take it personally.”
“I didn’t.”
“When he wakes up, he should be in a better mood and then maybe he’ll let you clean him up.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
Disappointment crossed her face. “Does that kind of thing bother you? Because . . .”
“Not at all. I just don’t want to do it because I want Adam to feel that he has some dignity left, okay? Especially with me. I have a couple of ideas for how to make his last days on earth pleasant.” I started getting choked up. “I don’t want to be the one who bathes him, or feeds him, or carries him around, okay? I’m just here to be with him.”
She was nodding. “I understand. It’s my job anyway. I just thought I would ask.”
I took a deep breath through my nose and out of my mouth. “I’ve had a long day. I’m gonna go nap in Adam’s room.”
I left Leah in the hallway so I could curl up on the horribly uncomfortable mini vinyl couch in Adam’s hospital room. Dozing off, I felt a blanket being draped over me. I opened one eye to find Leah standing there. “Thank you,” I said.
“No problem.”
19. Precisely
It was hard to tell what time it was when I woke up because the room was completely dark and cold. I felt around until my hand hit my purse sitting on a tray. It was five thirty. My stomach was rumbling with hunger and my mouth tasted disgusting. A member of the cafeteria staff knocked lightly on the glass door and then entered with a tray.
“He’s still sleeping?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll wake him in a minute.”
“Okay.” She left the tray on his table and walked out.
The room was only lit from the stark fluorescent hallway light coming through the sliding doors to Adam’s room. I got up off the couch and stretched my aching muscles. When I went to reach for the light, I was startled to find a person standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from behind. It was Helen.
I walked toward her. “Hey. Let’s go out here; he’s sleeping.”
In the hallway, I hugged Helen and then pulled away and tried to read her expression. She looked confounded and she still hadn’t said anything. “What? Did Chuck tell you?” I asked.