He kissed her hands, then looked at her, eyes wet, trying to smile. “What if the tree dies? How shitty will I feel then?”
“Water me twice a week and stick me in the sun. It’s not hard, Joshua. Don’t be a loser.”
“Did you know you can make your loved one’s ashes into jewelry?”
“Okay, that’s morbid. And who would wear that? I want to be a tree. Just don’t let Pebbles pee on me.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She adjusted the cannula and then squeezed him back, holding him with all her strength. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m the luckiest man in the world because I married you.”
And the thing was, she knew he meant it.
“Tell me you’ll be okay without me.”
“I won’t be.”
She said nothing, and Josh was quiet a long moment, the only sound the rhythm of the ocean waves against the shore. “I will be,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll be grateful for every day that I got to be your husband.”
She turned and wrapped herself around him, and though they tried so hard so many times not to cry, sometimes you just had to. Even when it felt like your heart was being pulled out of your chest, still beating. Even when you had to cough and gasp and would need to up the airflow on your oxygen. Their tears soaked into each other’s hair, skin, clothes. But it was okay. Everyone died. Her death was just a little less theoretical than most.
Besides, she had a new project now, unrelated to public space design, and one of which she thought her father heartily approved.
A person had to plan for the future, after all. Even if she wouldn’t be there for it.
10
Joshua
Still month two
April, 12:51 a.m.
WHY HADN’T HE gotten a fifth opinion? They’d gone to Dr. Bennett at Rhode Island Hospital, then to Mass General and Brigham and Women’s in Boston and, later, to the Mayo Clinic. Every pulmonologist agreed that the treatment plan Dr. Bennett had laid out was the same one they would’ve followed.
And everyone could see how well that turned out.
Josh should’ve taken her to Yale New Haven. And NewYork-Presbyterian. And National Jewish Health in Denver. UCSF. Cleveland Clinic. Shit, there had to be places that did better.
Earlier in the day—technically yesterday, he noted—he’d tried to work, but got derailed when a notification from Pulmonary Fibrosis News popped up. A new trial was coming, and the lead researcher was from Yale.
They should’ve gone to Yale. He should’ve kept looking. If he had, Lauren could well be here with him now, quite possibly even better. He could move closer to her, put his arm around her, kiss her shoulder. She would turn toward him, sleepy but smiling, and they’d kiss, and he’d slide his hand under her shirt and feel the warm curve of her breast.
He jammed his fingers in his hair and clenched his head. He wasn’t going to make it through this night. He’d call Jen, but—shit, no, it was way too late. That grief forum he’d found for young widowers and widows? The subreddit group?
No. No. He didn’t want to be around more pain.
Time to call AppleCare.
It was that, or he’d start howling or run into the streets or go into the first-floor gym to hit the punching bag, but the last time he did that, Creepy Charlotte had come in (at three a.m.) to do yoga in very little clothing.
Apple it would be. He had an extended warranty, and it was time for that investment to pay off.
He called 1-800-MY-APPLE, so easy to remember from that time when his laptop froze during a system upgrade. It had taken forever, but the person had been wicked nice.
He punched the appropriate buttons and said the appropriate words—computer. MacBook Air. Software not updating. Then, finally, he heard a human voice.
“Hi, this is Rory, who am I speaking to?”
“Joshua.”
“Can I have your phone number in case we get disconnected?”
Josh gave it, then explained his nonexistent problem.
“No worries,” said Rory, his voice chipper. “We can do a safe reboot and see what happens.”
“Great,” said Josh. Rory gave him the instructions, and Josh pretended to do the things.
“This might take a little while,” Rory said.
“Not a problem.” Was Rory going to hang up? “Uh, if you could stay on the line till it’s up and running . . .”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
They sat in amiable silence for a minute or two.
“How’s the weather where you are?” asked Rory.
“It’s beautiful,” Josh said, having no idea what the weather was like at the moment.
“Where do you live?”
“Hawaii. Kauai,” Josh lied.
“Oh, man, you’re lucky! What’s it like there?”
It would be seven o’clock there. The sun would be starting to set, and he’d be sitting on the deck of their house, and Lauren would bring him a glass of ice water with a sprig of mint in it. She’d have a glass of rosé, and she’d curl up next to him.
“It’s beautiful. It’s Hawaii, right? Um . . . our house is up on a cliff. It rained a little while ago, but it’s gorgeous now. Sunset will be soon.” Those sunsets had been incredible, better than any movie.
“Must be amazing.”
“Oh, yeah. A real nice place to live.”
“Kauai, that’s the little island, right?” Rory asked.
“One of them. It’s called the Garden Island, because it rains so much. Really lush. They filmed part of Jurassic Park here.”
“Oh, cool. Were you born there?”
“Yes.” Like every person who visited Hawaii, he and Lauren had talked about living there someday. She wanted to raise their kids close to their families, so living in Hawaii would be down the road a bit, once the kids were in college, but when he and Lauren were still young enough to snorkel and surf and hike.
Yep.
The images were so clear, he could smell the plumeria. He’d wear a Hawaiian shirt every day, and their kids would learn the language and be good stewards of the land. Lauren would manage to get a little tan. She’d work on developing parks and help preserve Hawaiian cultural spots and—
“So if I was gonna go to Hawaii, which islands should I see?” Rory asked.
“Well, definitely Kauai,” Josh said. “Natural beauty, the prettiest beach in the world at Hanalei Bay. My wife loves to bodysurf, and she says that place is the best.” Which was true. She had. “Maui is fantastic, too. Great hotels and restaurants, plus Haleakalā National Park. You have to see the sunset from there, man. Bring a coat, though. It gets cold. For volcanoes, go to the Big Island.”