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Authors: Colleen Hoover

Slammed (28 page)

BOOK: Slammed
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***

 

I sit on the edge of my mother's bed. She's asleep in the center of it. She doesn't have a side anymore, now that she sleeps in it alone.

 

She's still wearing her scrubs. When she wakes up and takes them off, it'll be the last time she takes off a pair of scrubs. I wonder if that's why she's still wearing them, because she realizes this too.

 

I watch the rhythm of her body as she breathes. With every breath that she inhales, I can hear the struggle of her lungs within her chest. The struggle of lungs that failed her.

 

I reach over and stroke her hair. When I do, a few of the strands fall off into my fingers. I pull my hand back and slowly wrap them around my finger as I walk to my room and pick my purple hair clip up off the floor. I open the clip and place the strands of hair inside and snap it shut. I place the clip under my bedroom pillow and I go back to my mother's room. I slide into the bed beside her and wrap my arms around her. She finds my hand and we interlock fingers as we talk without saying a single word.

 

16.

 

" "

 

-The Avett Brothers, COMPLAINTE D'VN MATELOT MOURANT

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

After my mother falls back to sleep, I go to the grocery store. Kel's favorite food is basagna. It's how he used to say lasagna, so we still call it basagna. I gather everything I need for the meal and I go back home and start cooking.

 

"Smells like basagna," Mom says as she comes out of her bedroom. She's in regular clothes now. She must have taken her scrubs off for the last time.

 

"Yep. I figured we could make Kel his favorite tonight. He'll need it."

 

She walks to the sink and washes her hands before she starts helping me layer the noodles.

 

"So, I guess we finally stopped carving pumpkins?" she asks.

 

"Yep," I reply. "The pumpkins have all been carved."

 

She laughs.

 

"Mom? Before he gets here, we need to talk. About what's going to happen to him."

 

"I
want
to, Lake. I
want
to talk about it."

 

"Why don't you want him to be with me? Do you not think I'm capable? That I wouldn't make a good mom?"

 

She layers the last of the noodles as I cover them with sauce.

 

"Lake, I don't think that at all. I just want you to be able to live your life. I've spent the entire last eighteen years raising you, teaching you everything I know. It's supposed to be time for you to go screw up. Make mistakes. Not raise a child."

 

"But sometimes life doesn't happen in chronological order," I say. "You're a prime example of that. If it did, you wouldn't die until you were supposed to. Until you were seventy-seven or so, I think. That's the average age of death."

 

She laughs and shakes her head.

 

"Seriously, Mom. I want him. I
want
to raise him. He'll want to stay with me, you know he will. You have to give us the choice. We haven't had a choice in any of this. You have to give us this one."

 

"Okay," she says.

 

"Okay? Okay you'll think about it? Or
okay,
okay?"

 

"
Okay,
okay."

 

I hug her. I hug her tighter than I've ever hugged her before.

 

"Lake?" she says. "You're getting basagna sauce all over me."

 

I pull away and realize I'm still holding the spatula and it's dripping all over her back.

 

***

 

"Why can't he come over?" Kel asks after I pull in the driveway and send Caulder home.

 

"I told you already. Mom needs to talk to us."

 

We walk inside the house and Mom is putting the basagna in the oven.

 

"Mom, guess what?" Kel says as he runs to the kitchen.

 

"What, Sweetie?"

 

"Our school is having a costume contest on Halloween. The winner gets fifty bucks!"

 

"Fifty bucks? Wow. Have you decided what you want to be yet?"

 

"Not yet." He walks over to the bar and throws his backpack down.

 

"Did your sister tell you we're all having a talk tonight?"

 

"Yeah. She didn't have to, though. We're having basagna."

 

My mother and I both look at him.

 

"Every time we have basagna it's bad news. Y'all cooked basagna when grandpa died. Y'all cooked basagna when y'all told me dad was dead. Y'all cooked basagna when y'all told me we were moving to Michigan. Y'all are cooking basagna right now. Someone's either dying or we're moving back to Texas."

 

My mom looks at me wide eyed, questioning our timing. He seems to have opened it up for an even earlier discussion. She walks over to him and sits down. I follow suit.

 

"You're very observant, that's for sure," she says.

 

"So, which one is it?" he asks, looking up at her.

 

She places her hand on the side of his face and strokes it. "I have lung cancer, Kel."

 

He immediately throws his arms around her and hugs her. She strokes the back of his head, but he doesn't cry. They are both silent for a while as she waits for him to speak.

 

"Are you gonna die?" he finally asks. His voice is muffled because his head is buried in her shirt.

 

"I am, Sweetie. But I don't know when. Until then though, we're going to spend a lot of time together. I quit my job today so that I can spend more time with you."

 

I wasn't sure how he would react. At only nine years old, he probably won't grasp the true reality of it until after she actually passes away. My father's death was sudden and unexpected, which naturally prompted a more dramatic reaction from him.

 

"But what about after you die? Who are we gonna go live with?"

 

"Your sister is an adult now. You're going to live with her."

 

"But I wanna stay here, by Caulder," he says as he lifts his head from her shirt and looks at me. "Layken, are you gonna make me move back to Texas with you?"

 

Up until this very second, I had every intention of moving back to Texas.

 

"No, Kel. We're staying right here."

 

Kel sighs, soaking in everything he's just been told. "Are you scared, Mom?" he asks her.

 

"Not anymore," she says. "I've had a lot of time to accept it. In fact, I feel lucky. Unlike your dad, at least I've got warning. Now I get to spend more time with the two of you here at home."

 

He lets go of my mother and puts his elbows on the bar.

 

"You have to promise me something, Layken."

 

"Okay," I respond.

 

"Don't ever make basagna again."

 

We all laugh. We all
laugh.
This was the hardest thing my mother and I have ever had to do, and we're
laughing
. Kel is amazing.

 

***

 

Two hours later, we have a huge spread of basagna, bread sticks and salad. There's no way we're eating all of this.

 

"Kel, why don't you go see if Caulder and Will have eaten yet," my mother says as she eyes the food with me. Kel darts out the door.

 

She sets two more places at the table while I fill drinks with tea.

 

"We need to talk to Will about helping out with Kel," I tell her.

 

"Will? Why?"

 

"Because, I want to take you to your treatments from now on. It's too much for Brenda. I can miss a day of school every now and then, or we can go when I get out."

 

"Okay," she says as we finish preparing the table.

 

Kel and Caulder come running through the front door, followed by Will a moment later.

 

"Kel said we're having basagna?" Will asks hesitantly.

 

"Yes sir," my mother says as she scoops basagna onto plates.

 

"What
is
basagna? Bologne lasagna?"

 

He looks scared.

 

"It's basagna. And it's the last time we'll ever have it so you better enjoy it," she says.

 

Will walks to the table and waits for Mom and I to sit before he takes his seat.

 

We pass around breadsticks and salad until everyone's plates are filled. And just like last night, Kel is the first one to make it awkward.

 

"My mom's dying, Caulder."

 

Will glances at me and I give him a half smile, letting him know we talked.

 

"When she dies, I'm gonna live with Layken. Just like you live with Will. It's like we'll be the same. All of our parents will be dead, and we'll live with our brother and sister."

 

"Cool. That's crazy," Caulder says.

 

"Caulder!" Will yells.

 

"It's fine, Will," my mom says. "It is kind of crazy if you think about it from the perspective of a nine-year-old."

 

"Mom," Kel says. "What about your bedroom? Can I have it? It's bigger than mine."

 

"No," I say. "It's got a bathroom in it. I get her bedroom."

 

Kel looks defeated. I don't budge, though. I'm getting the bedroom with the bathroom.

 

"Kel, you can have my computer," my mother says.

 

"Sweet!"

 

I look at Will, hoping this conversation isn't weirding him out, but he's laughing. This is exactly what he was hoping would happen.
Acceptance
.

 

Over dinner, we all discuss what will happen over the next few months and make arrangements for Caulder and Kel while mom receives her treatments. Will agreed to let Kel come over whenever he needed to and said he'll continue to take them to school. I'll be picking them up on the way home every day, unless I'm at a treatment with mom. She made Will agree to let her cook them supper most nights in return for his help. The entire night was a success. I feel like together, we all just punched death square in the face.

 

"I'm exhausted," my mom says. "I need to take a shower and get to bed."

 

She walks into the kitchen where Will is washing dishes at the sink. She puts her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind. "Thanks, Will. For everything."

 

He turns around and hugs her back.

 

When she walks past me on her way to her bedroom, she purposefully nudges me with her shoulder. She doesn't speak a word but I know what she's hinting at-she's giving me her approval. Again. Too bad it doesn't count.

 

I wipe the table off and walk to the sink to rinse out the rag.

 

"Eddie's birthday is Thursday. I don't know what I should get her."

 

"Well, I know what you
shouldn't
get her," he says.

 

"Believe me, I know," I laugh. "I think Gavin's taking her out Thursday night. Maybe I'll do something for her on Friday."

 

"Oh, speaking of Friday. Do you guys need me to watch Kel Friday? I forgot Caulder and I go to Detroit this weekend."

 

"No, you're fine. Family stuff?"

 

"Yeah. We stay with our grandparents one weekend a month. Kind of a truce we worked out for me stealing him away in the middle of the night."

 

"That's fair enough,” I say. I reach over to the sink and unplug the drain.

 

"So you won't be at the slam Thursday?" he asks.

 

"No. We'll watch Caulder that night, though. Just send him over after school."

 

He puts the last dish in the strainer and dries his hands on the towel.

 
BOOK: Slammed
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