I turn to look at her.
“Are you happy, Colton?” she asks. “I know I’m sick and it’s hard…but are you happy?”
My throat is squeezed so tight I don’t know if I can answer her. Such a simple f**king question, but I don’t have a reply. Not one that I really feel.
I squeeze the door handle. “Yeah, Mom. Of course I’m happy.”
***
My heart jackhammers as I drive through town. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing, I just know I need to get away. I head to the outskirts of town, this little ghetto park hidden in the middle of nowhere that no one uses.
And pace.
I f**king pace and I don’t know why. I just hear Cheyenne telling me I’m better than what I do and Mom asking if I’m happy. All she f**king wants is for me to be happy and I can’t even give her the truth on that.
But I want to. For the first time I realize I want it for her and I want it for me. I don’t want to be that piece of shit pot dealer who leaves his girl to sell drugs. I don’t want to have mom look at me like I’m her favorite person in the f**king world, but know she wants more for me than what I’m doing too. She knows. She has to know what I do or who I am.
My phone buzzes. One look tells me it’s someone wanting weed. The phone flies out of my hand, against a tree and busts apart. Busts in a million pieces like I’m doing right now.
Tears fall down my face and I hate that, but at the same time hope they can cleanse me. Somehow absolve me from my sins.
I feel like nothing. I don’t know who I am or what I want, but I keep pushing through with my shitty ass attitude while my dying mom hopes for more for me.
Do I ever feel like anything?
Yeah, when I’m with her. Or with Cheyenne. Holding her or kissing her or protecting her from the demons in her head.
I want that. I can’t believe I want her. Really want her, but what do I have to offer?
I let loose. Scream and I know it’s crazy. Hell maybe I am cracking up, but I try and let it all out of me. Push it out because I’m tired of f**king feeling this way.
I want her. I want something. I don’t know what, but I don’t want this, standing in the middle of nowhere and cracking up.
I’m tired. So f**king tired of fighting it and feeling this way—whatever the hell way it is. I lie about everything. I’m a dick to everyone. I can’t even truthfully answer the question “are you happy”. But she sees more in me. They both do.
My feet start to carry me back to the car. I don’t know where I’m going or what I plan to do when I get there.
Actually, I do.
I’m going to Cheyenne. I need her.
I’m not a block down the street when I see the red and blue flashing lights in my rearview window. All I can think about is the weed in the trunk of my car.
~CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX~
Cheyenne
My phone rings a couple hours after Colt leaves. I fumble for it thinking it’s either him or Aunt Lily (who is still blowing up my phone), but see a number I don’t recognize. I almost put the phone back down, but something makes me answer it. “Hello?”
“Cheyenne?”
I recognize the voice instantly. I jump up out of bed. “Bev. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it Colt?”
She chuckles and it sounds like a sicker, more feminine version of Colt. It makes me sad and smile at the same time.
“No, no. Nothing’s wrong. Unless you count the fact that I’m dying.”
My heart stops. Words completely lost. How do I reply to that?
“Not today, though. Today I want you to do a favor for me.”
My breathing picks back up again. “Absolutely. Anything.”
Happiness sprouts inside me. I’m honored she would come to me and I don’t even know what she wants. The woman has only met me once, yet when Colt is obviously unavailable, she comes to me.
“I want to get a tattoo.”
I stumble. That wasn’t what I expected at all. “Umm…okay?”
Another laugh and it may sound ridiculous, but I already miss Bev. I can’t imagine being Colt and knowing I’m going to lose her. It was different with my mom and I still can’t get over it. We weren’t close and she forgot about me more than she thought about me, but your parent is always your parent. Colt has this loving, awesome woman as his mom and he’s watching her wither away.
“I know it sounds crazy…especially given all the trouble I’ve given Colton over them. Our biggest argument we ever had was when he came home with his first tattoo at seventeen.”
I sit on the bed, hoping she’ll tell me the story.
“Thinks he’s big and tough that one, but he knew I would be pissed. That’s why he got it on his back. Tried to hide it. He may think he’s good at lot of things, but getting something by me isn’t one of them. I know my son and I knew the minute he came home that he’d done something he knew I wouldn’t like.”
“What happened?” I find myself asking.
“Well at first I didn’t know what it was, but I could tell he was nervous. He may think he is, but he’s not a good liar. I spent the evening watching him and I noticed him flinch when he leaned against the back of the couch. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s not real good with pain either.”
I laugh, thinking of a younger Colt trying to hide a tattoo from Bev. “How did you figure it out?”
“Walked right over to him, made him stand and pulled his shirt up, of course.”
This makes me laugh harder. Soon Bev joins in, but then starts to cough. I can tell she’s out of breath. “Are you okay?”
She sighs. “Okay as I’ll ever be. Cheyenne…I want to do this. I feel the need to do it and I don’t want to wait.”
Two things hit me. First, if she doesn’t want to wait, she doesn’t think she has much time. My chest feels empty at the thought and my eyes begin to sting.
And second. Colt doesn’t approve. That’s why she’s coming to me. There’s no other reason that makes sense.
“Bev…”
“Please. Do you know how it feels to be a grown woman and have to beg for help for something like this? I want it. I need it and Colt is stubborn. I think…” her voice cracks and I think she might be crying.
“I think he somehow thinks I’ll get better. That I won’t be sick anymore and I’ll regret it. I know I’m not getting better, Cheyenne and I want this.”
I’m crying too now. How is Colt going to handle losing her? He won’t have anyone left.
He’ll have me.
Not that I know if he even wants me.
“You can’t leave. I can’t risk taking you out of the house.”
The silence on the other side of the phone tells me she thinks it’s a lost cause.
“That’s what Maggie said. What’s the difference? I’m dying anyway.”
Those words are the answer I need. They confirm the only decision I can make right now. It helps knowing her nurse is okay with it. “I’ll make it happen, okay? Don’t worry. I’ll do this for you.”
I hang up the phone, scared to death helping Bev is going to make me lose Colt. This isn’t my place. She’s not my mom, but she came to me as a friend. I know what it’s like to need someone and not have anyone there. I won’t let Bev feel that way.
***
It’s going to cost me a lot of money to get this tattoo artist to go to Bev. I can’t even tell them what kind of tattoo she wants or anything, but I find a girl willing to go.
She lost a grandma to cancer.
“I lost my mom too,” I tell her. It’s so crazy. It’s the first time I’ve said the words that way. Said them at all except for the first time I told Colt. They hurt—prick and prod at my insides, but not as much as I thought they would. It’ slowly becoming okay. Well, not okay, but a part of me. Real.
Tammy gives me a sad smile as she packs up all her tattooing equipment.
She follows me over to Bev’s. On the way, I try to call Colt. No answer again. It’s the third time I’ve tried. He’s going to be pissed, but I want to at least tell him what I’m doing.
“Thank you, so much,” I tell Tammy as I lead her toward the building.
“No problem,” the tattooed, pierced woman says.
I knock and Maggie answers the door. She startles a little at the two of us. “Bev called and asked me to come over.”
“Does Colton know?” she asks.
“No. But she wants it. He’ll understand.” I lie. Or I don’t. I don’t know. I think he’ll get it. It’s just a tattoo, but if what Bev said is right then I get what it means to him. If she won’t have the chance to regret it, it really means she’s really dying.
Oh God.
I suddenly feel dizzy. My chest starts to tighten. Am I doing the right thing?
I fight back the panic threatening to take me over. “Can we come in?”
Maggie nods and steps back. We walk around the woman and into the hallway. “She’s in her bedroom.”
“Is she sleeping?” I ask.
“No. Now I see why.” Maggie smiles and I feel a little bit better.
“This is okay?” What if something I do hurts her?
As if she knows where my thoughts are going, Maggie grabs my hand. “It’s not going to hurt her. A lot of people do things like this toward the end. It’s a way to honor their living and feel like she’s keeping him with her.
Him.
It has to do with Colt.
Stupid tears threaten to come again. I don’t know why the hell I’m crying so much.
Would my mom have gotten a tattoo for me if she knew she was dying?
Is it selfish of me to wonder that right now?
Maggie leads us to Bev’s room. She’s sitting up in bed, a hat on her bald head. My heart seizes seeing her. She’s so sick, it’s surprising she can even sit up right now.
“Hey.” I walk over and give her a hug. I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but I know I can’t imagine doing anything else. “This is Tammy. She’s going to give you some ink.” I wink, trying to sound light.