“Yeah, I know,” he gripes.
I ruffle his hair. “Lunch is on the table waiting for you and Gemma. We’ll be out in a minute.”
Gray leans over and kisses his mother’s cheek. Before he can climb off the bed, Molly manages to snag the hem of his shirt in her weak grip. Gray stops and looks back.
“Ttthank you for looking after yyyour sister,” she slurs. “Yourrr the bessst bbbig brother a sssister can have.”
Gray smiles, the tension fading from his face. “I’ll always look after Gemma.”
“I know you wwwilll.”
Gemma gets off the bed after kissing Molly’s other cheek, and they both leave the bedroom. I slide up until I’m resting over Molly’s stomach. Dipping down, I kiss my beautiful wife.
“I hhate that he hhhad too dooo that. Buuut is it wrooong of me to alssso feel prrroud?”
I grin. “Nope, because I feel the same. Gray’s a good boy, and I don’t think he would fight unless he feels it’s unavoidable. We can’t really fault him when he was only protecting his sister.” My grin turns into a smirk. “It kinda reminds me of the first time we met.
Molly smiles and those little fireflies sparkle in her eyes. “Thaaat was the bessst ddday of my lifffe.”
“Mine too.” Lifting my hand, I trail it down her nose. “And just so you know, I would have knocked both of those boys’ teeth out if they kept messing with you.”
I actually did knock their teeth out years later. My jaw ticks when I remember the scene I came across when I left the theater and found Jensen and Mark pinning Molly against a wall. I should have done more damage than I did. Thank God I made it to her when I did because there’s no telling what they would have done to her had I not.
She giggles, the sound coming out garbled. “I know bbbbetter nooow, but at theee time I wwwould have loooveed seeing thaat.”
I laugh and press another kiss against her mouth. Pulling back, I ask, “You wanna eat lunch with the kids?”
When her eyes light up and she nods, I sit up and slip my arms underneath her weakening body. She’s feather-light since she’s lost so much weight. It’s too taxing to lift her arms around my neck, but she snuggles her head against my chest. She takes in a deep breath, pulling in my scent.
I carry her out to the kitchen and set her in a chair. She sits with her too slender shoulders slumped.
The last six months have been a rapid decline in her health. She’s no longer able to walk because the muscles in her legs are too weak and painful, the movements in her arms are often jerky and uncoordinated, and her speech has been significantly impaired. Her memory is still fading, although not as rapidly as her body.
Eight months ago, in a fit of desperation, I told Molly I wanted to get a third opinion. The outcome was expected, but it was still devastating when the results didn’t change.
Dr. Becker referred us to see a neurologist as well, who specializes in prion diseases. She’s been seeing Dr. Vegas, an elderly woman, for the last eight months. She’s been a big help in helping us understand each step of the way through this malicious disease. Unfortunately, last week, she told us that Molly doesn’t have much time left. I stayed as strong as I could for Molly, because that’s what she needs, but that night in the shower while I was alone, I cried like a fucking baby.
I’ve broken many times over the last eight months, but never when someone is near to witness it. I try so damn hard to stay strong all of the time, but I can only do it for so long. I’ve spent many nights in the backyard while Molly sleeps, gazing up at the stars, praying, begging, and pleading for God to send a miracle.
I’ve done a lot of research on this disease. Well, as much as I can since there’s not much to be found. I’ve grown desperate to find some trial or special treatment that worked against GSS, but so far, I’ve found nothing. Every doctor I’ve spoken with has told me the same thing. There’s nothing, nowhere, that can help or even slow it down. My last hope is with a doctor in Africa who’s trying a new experimental drug on a family known to have GSS. I’m still waiting to hear back from him. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only one I have, so I’ll take it.
“Wheeen do weee leave tommmorrow?” Molly’s stunted words bring me back to the moment.
“First thing in the morning.”
She smiles. “Greattt. I cannn’t wait.”
The kids aren’t due to get out of school for the summer for a few more weeks, but we decided to pull them out early and home school them for the rest of the year. We want to give them every minute they have left with Molly. Last week, Molly told me she wanted to spend time at the lake house, so we’re heading out that way tomorrow for a few days. It’s hard to realize that this will probably be the last time she’ll be there.
I watch as Molly lifts a shaking hand and slowly brings a bite of potato to her mouth. Some days I have to help her because she’s either too weak to eat on her own or her arms jerk too much, causing her to drop her food. Molly’s mood plummets on those days because she hates feeling helpless.
Many people would have already brought in a nurse to help, and even Molly suggested we do that, but my answer was a firm no. I want to be the one to care for her. She’s afraid she’s become a burden. I shut that thinking down as soon as she voiced it. There’s no way she could ever be a burden.
Dr. Becker mentioned putting her on hospice at home. I about lost it at his suggestion. I wasn’t going to have some nurse come in and take care of my wife when I was perfectly capable of doing it myself.
“How long are we gonna be there?” Gemma asks.
“Two or three days probably.”
“Do you think Eli and Mindy are there?”
“I spoke with Mrs. Bagley yesterday. They aren’t there yet, but she said she’ll see if their parents can bring them out one day while we’re there.”
Gemma grins and pops a chip into her mouth. “I hope they do. I wanna show Eli that I can do a cartwheel now.”
“I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you do that.”
Grabbing a glass filled with lemonade and a straw, I hold it up for Molly to take a drink. When I put it back down, she sluggishly lifts her other arm and lays her hand down on top of mine on my lap. I flip my hand over and link her frail fingers with mine. I glance over at her.
“I waaant too have booth of ourrr familiesss over fooor a bar-beee-que when weee get backkk from the lake.”
Squeezing her hand in mine, I lift it to my lips. “Sounds good, baby. I’ll let everyone know. We’ll do it soon.”
“Thank yooou.”
As we finish our lunch, I keep my eyes on Molly in case she needs help. Once we’re done, I take our dishes to the sink to rinse and stack in the dishwasher. Gray and Gemma left a few minutes ago to go do their own thing in their rooms. Walking back to Molly, I bend and pick her up.
After a gentle peck to her lips, I ask, “Where to, milady?”
She giggles, the sound soothing my soul. “Can weee siiit outside for a whillle?”
“We can do anything you want.”
I carry her over to the back door and reach down for the knob, then push it open with my shoulder. Instead of setting her down in her own lounge chair, I take a seat and set her on my lap sideways. Her head rests against my shoulder, and she stares out into the backyard toward the flowers Gemma planted for her a month ago. Molly likes to be outside as much as possible. She says the fresh air is calming. One day, Gemma came to me and said she wanted to plant a pretty flower garden for her mother to look at while she was out here. It’s full of dahlias, her favorite flowers.