Everything was still fuzzy until Leah pulled a smelling salt capsule from her pocket, broke it, and waved it in front of my face. My eyes shot open. By that point Adam’s mother and father were standing near us in the middle of the hall.
“Is she okay?” his mother said.
“She thought he had gone and you were all here to say good-bye.”
His mother had mascara running down her face, but she was smiling. “I’m Deanna. You must be Charlotte?”
I reached my hand up weakly and shook hers. “Yes.”
She helped to keep me upright. She seemed conservative, with her natural gray bob, high-necked sweater, and simple makeup.
“Come on,” Leah said. “Let’s go see our boy.” She walked me to Adam’s room with her arm around my waist. Inside, I found him standing near the bed wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans, and a baseball cap. Every person gathered around his room seemed somber as I walked by them. They watched me intently. Adam looked better to me, so I wondered why everyone was down.
Adam looked up and smiled. “I’m busting out of here and I want you to come with me. Will you come with me, Charlotte?”
My mouth was open in shock as I tried to find the words to ask all the questions running through my head. “But you—”
“Have cancer, I know. Finally, you’re getting it.” He jabbed his thumb behind him, pointing to a man hooking his IV line up to a portable device. “Meet Dr. Freedom. We’re taking him with us. My dad is letting us use his driver and private jet.”
“The jet?”
“I have a plan for us. You said you’d agree to my plan, right?” He sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come, I’ll explain.”
“But the trial . . .”
“The trial will still be here.”
Everyone but Dr. Freedom had left the room and began congregating in the hall, talking in hushed tones.
“So,” Adam said, “I was thinking that I really don’t want to stay here any longer. I called my parents and a few other people and—”
“Your ex-girlfriend?”
“Yeah, well, my dad called her.” Adam rolled his eyes.
“Is she the runner?”
“Yeah.” He looked surprised. “How’d you know that?”
“I have a good memory.”
He jabbed my arm with his finger. “Braggart. Anyway, I told them I was leaving, that you and I were going to take a trip, so they came to say good-bye.”
“Adam . . .”
Placing a finger over my mouth, he said, “Shh, let’s be in the moment now; it’s all we have. Will you go with me?” Before I could answer he leaned in and kissed me. What he wasn’t saying is that everyone was here to say good-bye in case Adam didn’t make it back.
When I pulled away, I said, “But I don’t have any of my stuff.” I was hoping to change his mind.
“Chucky took care of that. He packed a bag while you were in the shower this morning; he even got your passport for you.” I had a passport only because my mom made me get one. I had never used it.
“Chucky went through my drawers?” I imagined him finding some personal items, taking pictures, and putting it on Instagram.
Adam cocked his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow at me. “He wanted to help. Don’t be a brat.”
“Fine. So, passport? We’re going out of the country?”
“I can’t tell you any details. It has to be a surprise.”
“We can’t be gone long. We have to come back so you can start the trial and get the new treatment. I read all about it. It could save you.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. We’re gonna go have some fun before they inject me with more poison.” He smiled wide.
Leaving the hospital was surreal. Each person who was there waiting for Adam to leave knew who I was, hugged me, and thanked me. Most of them were in tears as I pushed Adam in his wheelchair toward the town car waiting at the curb.
We sat next to each other in the back seat and held hands. I put my head on his shoulder and didn’t care where we were going anymore.
“Do you believe in God?” I asked.
“Are you worried about my soul, Charlotte?” His chest rumbled with laughter.
I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I needed to talk to him, to see where his head was at. “I guess I’m wondering how you feel emotionally . . . if . . . if you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
My head was still on his shoulder, so I couldn’t see his expression, but he lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “I’ll tell you what I think and what I believe as long as you promise that it won’t make you sad. We’re supposed to be trying to get away from all that sadness. It’s the whole point of what I planned.”
“I know, I know.” I looked up to the driver and Doctor Freedom in the front seat.
Adam lowered his voice to keep the conversation between us. “I believe you have to protect your relationship with God more than any other, Charlotte. Whether you believe in God or not, whether you think God is terrible, truly divine, or absolutely nonexistent, it is the most sacred and intimate relationship we have in our lives.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the definition of God. It’s just something within. That’s what I believe.”
I pulled away from him to look at his face. He was smiling warmly . . . contently. “So when it’s all over . . .”
“Lights out, baby.”
I shook my head; my face fell as tears filled my eyes. “No,” I said.
“You promised me you wouldn’t get sad.” He pressed his lips to mine and I felt our tears mixing together on our cheeks as we kissed and kissed.
When we finally pulled apart I said, “Look, now I’ve made you cry. Don’t you want to believe that we’ll be together again . . . that we’ll see each other again?”
“No, Charlotte.” He shook his head and then turned and stared out the window. “I want to believe that you’ll go on and live your life. This is mine. This is my right now, and I’m taking it.”
Even though I promised him I wouldn’t cry anymore, I couldn’t help it. I felt Adam was being cheated. It made me angry with God and I wasn’t sure how I could repair that relationship, the one I was supposed to protect the most, according to Adam. It was hard for me to understand how he had reconciled that in his own mind.
“You’re not bitter?”
“I don’t think I have a lot of time to waste being bitter.”
He was right. And that was true for all of us.
We ended up at the Getty, standing in front of Starry Night—the Munch, not the Van Gogh, of course. Adam insisted on walking instead of using a wheelchair. He stood behind me and said, “I used to think the Van Gogh was starrier, but now that you’re standing here, there’s no question this one is much brighter.” He came up close behind me, moved my hair to one side, and kissed the back of my neck before whispering, “Thank you for that, by the way.”
It took everything in me not to start crying again, but I promised myself I would give Adam this last little bit of life to live without constantly reminding him he was sick.
“You’re welcome, handsome.” I turned around and wrapped my arms around him. We kissed in front of twenty people, and I didn’t care.
After the museum, the driver took us to the Observatory at Griffith Park, where Adam got down on one knee in the grass.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“Charlotte Anne Martin, there are not enough stars in the sky to match the reasons why I love you. Marry me and make me the happiest man on earth?” He produced a simple gold band from his pocket.
I didn’t hesitate. I held my hand out to him. “Yes, I will.” It was the easiest decision I had ever made.
He put the ring on my finger. “Good, because they’re getting my father’s jet ready for us and we need to be at the Van Nuys Airport as soon as possible.” He looked down and laughed at his own helpless state on the ground. “Now, help me up, please.”