I scowled. “You scared me. Why’d you shout?”
He reached for my hand. “You have to take me somewhere. You have to take me now.” He seemed stronger in that moment, more alert.
“Please, Adam, I told you I’m too scared. What’s gotten into you?”
When I stood up next to the arm of his chair, he reached for my hand and yanked me onto his lap. “Oh my god, Adam, what are you doing?”
He pressed his hands to my cheeks and kissed me. “Promise me something, Charlotte?”
“What is it?”
His eyes were still wide, searching mine. “Promise me this is the last moment in your life that you will let fear stop you from doing what you want.”
“What?”
“Will you do that for me? Stop giving a fuck and take me somewhere right now and promise me you will not be scared of your own shadow anymore. I need a legacy, Charlotte, and I can’t make one sitting here in this fucking chair.”
“Adam, are you insane?”
“Yes, maybe, who cares? You were all-in that night. Just take me somewhere because I need to do something besides sit here and die, please!”
“If this is about your legacy, you have one. The art world is calling you a genius. When they find out who you are, your paintings will be worth millions.”
“I don’t care about any of that. Please get me out of here.”
I hadn’t agreed to anything yet. I wheeled him back to his room, where Leah gave him a dose of medication and his lunch of broth and Jell-O. He slurped it up with a smile and then did a wheelie in his chair and said, “Let’s hit it.”
“Fine, Adam, but this whole thing freaks me out.”
“Just calm down. We don’t have much time; we need to go. We need to hit the art supply store first.”
“I thought you couldn’t paint?”
He smirked, “I’m a genius, remember? I’ll figure it out. Let’s go.”
We hit a Michaels nearby. Adam threw brushes and paints into a basket on his lap as I pushed him through the aisles. Back in the car, he directed me through downtown, until we hit a street near my apartment. “Park here.” He pointed.
Directly across from us was the mural of the winged man. “You painted that,” I said.
“Oh, I know. That’s why we’re here. I need to finish it.”
I hadn’t realized it was incomplete. “But Adam, it’s the middle of the day. Someone will see you. If anyone recognizes you, you’ll make the news.”
“Who cares?”
“At least let me take you to my apartment to get some of Chucky’s clothes.”
“Fine, but we have to go fast.” We went to my empty apartment and grabbed a sweatshirt, jeans, and some slippers from Chucky’s closet. Adam was so skinny that his jeans barely stayed up, so I quickly found a belt and then helped him back down the stairs. He was weak but lighter, so I was able to help him easily.
I pushed him over to the mural. In his lap, he carried paints and brushes on a cookie sheet. “I need to sit on the ground. I need to finish the bottom part.”
“It’s gross on the ground, Adam.”
“Jesus, Charlotte, will you just help me?” I helped him to sit on the ground in front of the mural. “You keep watch,” he said. I sat in the wheelchair in front of him and tried as best as I could to block his hunched figure, sitting near the wall.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“It’s tough,” he said. “But it’s going to work.”
Half an hour went by. I checked my watch. “You okay?”
“I’m done. You can look now.”
I stood, turned around, and helped him back into the seat. When my eyes finally registered what I was seeing, I stumbled back and steadied myself against the arm of Adam’s chair. He placed his hand over mine. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s . . . Adam, it’s . . .” I couldn’t speak.
Before, it seemed like the winged man was looking down at the ground as he levitated from it. Now you could see what he was gazing down at. Adam had painted a little rendering of my apartment building, complete with the frolicking wolves. The winged man was watching over me.
He took my hand in his and said, “No more fear.” He kissed my knuckles. “Promise me. Promise me that you’ll go on and take everything you want, take what you deserve.”
“I promise.” My throat tightened and tears fell from my eyes.
I looked down at Adam, who arched his eyebrows and then gestured toward the winged man and said, “I’ll have my eye on you.”
I sniffled. “Yeah, you gonna keep watch?”
“I’ll be very angry with you if you dwell on me, young lady. All the things I said in that letter, I meant. Okay? But I was talking about my life, not yours, and it wasn’t some dying man’s poetic nonsense. I wanted you to know that I am grateful to you. I’m grateful to you now. I got to experience it in this life, and I don’t think it’s measured with time.”
“You don’t think what’s measured with time, Adam?” My voice was strained.
“Love, Charlotte. Just like we won’t be judged by the brevity of our lives, no one will ever be able to take this away from me. Not the cancer, not my death, not your new boyfriend, not your future husband or your future kids . . .”
“Stop, Adam!”
“No, I mean it. I’m not saying it the way you think I am. I’m saying it doesn’t matter what happens next. Today everyone is looking for the perfect future and the perfect partner who has it all together so they can feel like the life they dream of is possible, but when you’re dying, all you want is a person to love right now. You were my perfect right now that night in the loft, but then I realized something after you left.”
By that point I was crying full, quiet sobs. “What did you realize?”
“Come here.” He pulled me to sit on his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, curling into a ball. I kissed his neck and then rested my head on his shoulder. “I realized that right now is all that matters for everyone. Even if I had my whole life in front of me the way you do, I wouldn’t change a thing.” He wheeled us toward the car. “I learned something that night with you. I had spent the years before I got sick trying to build a career that would make me rich because I thought I would find happiness in that. Just like I looked for women I could use as trophies. All of that crap left me feeling empty. I was unfulfilled and I was betraying myself. I only started living once I knew I was dying. That’s the reason for all the paintings. The world came to life around me. I could see people for who they were, not what they had. And when I was with you, I felt more alive than ever before.” When we reached the car, he wiped tears from my face. “Because you are good, Charlotte. You’re a good person and you see the good in other people. You care. You brightened the darkest time of my life.”
“No one has ever said anything like that about me. I’m a mess, Adam. I’ve had five jobs in five years and twice as many boyfriends.”
“None of that matters. Why don’t you start believing in yourself? I overheard you talking to your mom last night and I knew your boyfriend came to the hospital today. I saw him in the reflection of the window on the footbridge. I saw your reaction and knew it must have been him.”
“Oh?” My heart started thumping. “He’s not really my boyfri—”
He gestured toward the car. “Let’s get going. I need to make some plans.” He suddenly seemed more resolute.
I helped him into the passenger seat, put the wheelchair in the trunk, and then slipped into the driver’s side. I spent the next few minutes gathering myself. Adam handed me a Kleenex from the glove box. “I better get you back,” I said. He reached over and squeezed my hand. I turned to look him in the eye. “What did you overhear?”
“I overheard you telling your mom about Seth and how he probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with you after this was all over. I felt guilty, like it was all my fault. I wanted to call him and tell you to go to him, but at the same time I felt like if he wanted nothing to do with you because of how good and sweet and amazing you are for spending time with me, then he’s a damn fool and he doesn’t deserve you. Then he came to the hospital and it occurred to me that the doubts had nothing to do with him. It’s you. You still don’t know what you’re worth.” He wiped a tear from my cheek and smiled. “So I’m dedicating the rest of my life to proving that to you.”