If you’re reading this, then I guess I’ll see you on the other side. Love, Adam.
He thought he would be dead before I read this.
It’s fair to say that by the time I finished reading the letter, I was a blubbering fool. I was hysterical and hyperventilating. It brought Adam back to me, his spontaneity and humor and the way I, too, felt like I had known him my whole life. Seth was rocking me, making soothing sounds and rubbing my arms up and down. Tears were spilling onto the letter, soaking the words.
I crumpled into a ball in Seth’s arms, and he held me as I cried myself to exhaustion.
“I need to go home,” I said.
“Aren’t you going to see him?” Stacy seemed irritated.
“Yes, but I can’t today.”
“He doesn’t—”
“I know, he doesn’t have much time left. I will see him tomorrow if it’s the last thing I do.”
Stacy was still shaking her head when Seth and I left the apartment. He carried me effortlessly up the stairs to my place and laid me down in my bed.
Some time later, I woke up to Seth setting a glass of water on my nightstand. When I opened my eyes and looked up at him, he sat on the edge of my bed and brushed my hair back from my face.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and gentle.
“Hey.”
“I gotta get going.”
“I know.” I glanced behind him to the clock. It was ten p.m. I had slept for three hours after an hour-long sobbing fit. There was a big part of me that wanted to tell Seth that he should move on and forget about us. That he should focus on baseball and his career, instead of sitting here consoling me. But as I looked up into his sincere eyes, his solicitous smile, I saw understanding and a man who cared about me.
“You need to see him, Charlotte.”
I nodded.
“If for nothing else, thank him for the mural, but I think there’s more to this than that.”
“I know.” If I went to see Adam, Seth knew there was no way I could just thank him, walk away, and say, Have a nice death.
“I’ll be on the road for nine days, and when I come back, this will all be a distant memory, right? You’ll see him, and then we can move on with our lives?”
I wondered if it would be that easy. I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Seth laughed and then bent and kissed the top of my head.
“Yes, I think so,” I said, though I wasn’t sure at all.
“I know we haven’t known each other that long but I’d like to continue dating you.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “So . . . I need to be sure you know the game plan before I leave.”
Of course he does. A flash-forward of Seth coaching our little kid’s baseball team flitted through my consciousness. I should have felt good about that, but I was a mess of emotions. I sat up against my pillows. Even though the light from the hallway was illuminating the room enough for Seth and me to see each other’s faces, I clicked on the bedside lamp as well, just to make it that much more real.
“Okay,” I began, my voice shaking. “Tomorrow you’re going to Cleveland and I’m going to see Adam in the hospital.”
He nodded once, encouraging me to continue, so I did.
“You’ll be gone for nine days, and when you come back, we’ll get together and talk about things between us.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Huh?” Where is this going?
“In nine days, I’ll come back and we’ll pick up where we left off in that hotel room.”
I was quiet for way too long. His expression dropped.
“Okay,” I said finally.
He leaned in, pecked me on the lips, and then stood up. I watched with no emotion as he walked out of my room. Just before he left the apartment, he called out, “Lock the door, Charlie.”
He called me Charlie. Am I going to break his heart?
17. Why We Remember
I walked through the sliding-glass doorway to Adam’s hospital room. I couldn’t see him right away because the privacy curtain was pulled around his bed, but I could detect movement behind the curtain. And then I heard his voice. He was talking to a female nurse.
“Bald is sexy, right?” he said. I laughed to myself quietly as I waited for the nurse to open the curtain.
“Yes, Adam, bald is sexy,” she said, sounding amused.
“I mean, think about it. Bruce Willis, Vin Diesel . . . Natalie Portman . . . Adam Bramwell.”
She laughed and then very abruptly pulled the curtain open, the metal hooks screeching along the curtain track, startling me. Suddenly, Adam and I were face-to-face. He was completely bald and had two distinct scars just above his forehead on the left side.
He opened his eyes wide and grinned, but only one side of his mouth went up. I found it completely heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once.
“Hi, Adam,” I said just above a whisper.
“Come here, Charlotte.” I had been hanging back a few feet, cautious and apprehensive. The nurse, a young, blond woman, appraised me.
“Hello,” I said to her as I walked toward Adam.
“Hello,” she returned. “I’ll leave you two alone. Adam, your lunch will be here in a minute. Do you want me to help you, or . . .” She looked at me. I was looking at Adam.
“I can handle it, Leah, but thank you.” He wouldn’t take his eyes off me. From what I could tell, he had lost a little use of his left side but he seemed spry and aware.
I stood next to his bed, trying to hold it together until the nurse left the room, and then I started crying.
“Don’t cry, please,” he said.
“Thank you . . . for painting that mural and . . . for the letter.” Tears poured from my eyes.
“Thank you for making my night so starry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. I was scared you’d run.”
“It would have been the opposite.” I could barely speak.
“I know that, too. I didn’t want you to stay just because I had cancer.” Adam’s eyes were sympathetic. “But here you are.” He smiled and then pointed to the scar on his head. “They operated and got some of the tumor out, so my brain works better, but my left side is pretty useless. I was left-handed. I can’t paint anymore.” He paused. “At least I got to make that one last mural for you before I went into surgery. I’m starting to have seizures more often, so that’s a bummer. Oh, and I drool a little now. How’s that for progress?”
I laughed because he was smiling the whole time he talked, like nothing could ruin his day.
“So making out is gonna be a little slobbery,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
My lips flattened.
“I’m kidding, Charlotte.”
I let out a breath. “Oh. Okay.”
“Well, thanks for coming by, and you’re welcome for the mural. I figured if I didn’t make it through the surgery, you’d have something to remember me by.”
“And the letter?”
Adam’s warm, chocolatey eyes searched mine. “I meant all of it.”
Out of nowhere, I felt the urge to kiss him, so I did. I leaned down, cupped his chin, and kissed him, gently and slowly. The left side of his mouth was a little slack, but it didn’t matter; he braced the back of my head and kissed me back.
When I pulled away, he said, “Wow. It was true.”
“What?”
“That feeling was real. I didn’t make it up.”
I closed my eyes. My chest was aching. Right at that moment, a member of the hospital cafeteria walked in with a tray. “It’s your favorite, Adam. Chicken fajitas!” the woman said.
“Woohoo!” Adam was genuinely excited. It was charming. “This is the best day ever! Charlotte, sit down, I’ll share. It’ll be like a date.”
This was why I had fallen for him. He was dying in a bed and he was still joyful, buoyant, and charming.
I started laughing and crying at the same time. “Adam, where is your family? How come no one is here with you?”
“My dad can’t be pulled away from his job, you know? And all this is too hard on my mom. It’s no big deal; I mean, I could live ten more years like this. They don’t need to be sitting around waiting for me to die.”