And in the end when she was barely hanging on, all she could say is she thinks his name was John…she thinks his name was John…

When she lay in my arms saying she hated goodbyes, for the very first time I realized how hard it was for her, and I don’t just mean the pain. Yeah, we had to say goodbye to someone we loved, but she knew the pain she was causing, and because of the person she was, she hated it. That’s why she continually tried to push us away, until she finally realized we were too stubborn for that.

I would watch her sleep. Just tiptoe into her room and watch her, watch her chest to make sure it moved up and down, and sometimes even watch the little bleep that signified her heart rate, willing it to continue to make the obnoxious noise it made. These nights I would cry…consumed by guilt. Long ago she had told me it wasn’t my fault, but a part of me would always think it was. She met him because of me…and if I had never introduced them…then we wouldn’t be in this position. But if I hadn’t introduced them, we wouldn’t be in this position, and I never would have gotten to know her like I did, and I never would have fallen in love with her. And I wouldn’t have given that love up for anything.

One morning she told me to quit my slinking around and just pull a damn cot into her room…that she was sick of feeling spied on. I couldn’t help but smile. She could always nail me like that. I told her that maybe I liked being a Peeping Tom, and she said she figured as much. So I set up a sleeping bag on the floor. The hum of the machines was strangely comforting, actually. It could easily lull you to sleep, though any hiccup in the sounds instantly awakened me. Sometimes Felicia even snuck in to hang out. She and I would just look at each other, the truce finally agreed upon. Nothing would make these last days painful for her. We both loved her too much.

Felicia had brought her some breakfast, but of course she wasn’t interested. She asked me to help her sit up, and we turned so we could look out at the ocean. She heaved a big sigh, just looking out the window for almost an hour. She then turned and lay back down. I got her settled, and she grabbed at my wrist. She guided it to her face and together we removed the oxygen mask. “What is it, Sugar?” I asked, using the hated nickname. “What do you want to say?”

“This…off…no more…” she whispered, her bright eyes begging. “I’m tired, Alex.” I didn’t want to do it. I wanted to keep the damn mask on forever…whatever it took to make it easier for her to stay alive. Then I realized that what would make things easier was finally letting go. I nodded and took the straps from behind her head. She inhaled deeply, coughed a bit, then smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered, and I nodded slowly. I knelt by the bed, and for the next two hours I did nothing but talk. I talked, I cried, I swore a blue streak. I felt like I was in a confessional. I told her how much I loved her, how special she was to me, and how guilty I felt. Her eyes were closed but she was awake, I knew. Her hand stroked my hair gently, yanking a bit when I got to the guilt. “Stop,” she whispered. “No one’s…fault…but John’s…” I nodded, but didn’t feel much better.

“Will you be okay if I go out of the room for a second?” I asked finally, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. She nodded. She knew what I was asking.

“I’ll be here,” she said, smiling up at me. I practically stumbled out of the room.

When Felicia came down the hall, I was leaning against the closed door with my eyes closed. “AJ…what…” Her dark eyes were huge.

“No. Not yet. But we need to call Howie and Nick.” I kept my voice low

“But she said…”

I held up a hand. “I promised them. I said if it looked like…it was close…I would call.”

“How do you know it’s close?” She said almost frantically. “You don’t know anything about…”

“I fucking KNOW, Felicia. Please. Call them, okay?” Felicia looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. We fell into each other’s arms, hugging each other tight. I took a deep breath, then went back into the bedroom. I slid behind her on the bed, holding her against my chest, careful to keep all the monitoring wires in place.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” she said, smiling up at me.

“I can HEAR yours,” I countered, pointing to the monitor, and she giggled. The beeping jumped. “Hey…quit making it dance,” I ordered, and she giggled again.

We chatted quietly for about fifteen minutes, me doing most of the talking. She nodded occasionally, her eyes on the painting across the room. Nick had created a miracle, and I knew it was something she cherished. It was a memory of a happier time, and she enjoyed the fact that she and I were together in the middle. She told me once, and I have never forgotten it. She never said she loved me like THAT, always joked about it, but I like to think we could have been something. She just snuggled close to me, and we enjoyed the thought of each other.

The door opened and we both jumped. “Hey,” Howie said softly, poking his head in. I saw her eyes widen.

“Howie?”

“And me.” A blond head appeared above Howie’s. I could feel her tense, then she relaxed.

“Nick…Howie…hi,” she said, and she smiled. They took a seat on each side of the bed, each taking one of her hands. “You don’t listen worth shit.”

“It’s AJ’s fault,” Nick said immediately, and I smacked his head. “It is! He called us.”

“He never could behave,” she said with a sigh, but she smiled as she said it.

Nick started talking, talking about his poetry and painting, and I felt her relax against me even more. Her eyes lingered on Howie, and I saw his own dark eyes glisten with tears. He stroked her hand with his soft fingers, saying nothing. Nick finally stopped talking, not knowing what else to say. He leaned his chin on her hand, resting his head on the bed. His blue eyes blinked furiously, and I was surprised. Crying for Nick was a big deal.

Howie reached up and pushed a hair from her face, then brought his hand down to trace the embroidered Winnie the Pooh on her nightshirt. “Christopher Robin and I walked along under branches lit up by the moon…” he began to sing, and Nick and I stared at him. Her face lit up and she seemed to breathe a bit stronger. “Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore as our days disappeared all too soon…But I’ve wandered much further today than I should and I can’t seem to find my way back to the Wood…”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “So help me if you can I’ve got to get…back to the house at Pooh Corner by one…you’d be surprised there’s so much to be done…count all the bees in the hive…chase all the clouds from the sky…back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh…”

I could tell it took everything Howie had in him not to break down. I was already in fucking tears, and Nick’s broad shoulders shook with sobs. “It’s hard to explain how a few precious things…seem to follow throughout all our lives…after all’s said and done I was watching my son sleeping there with his bear by his side…” Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed. Howie bent down to kiss her forehead. “So I tucked him in…I kissed him…and as I was going I swear…that the old bear whispered Boy, welcome home…” A strong straight tone from the heart monitor made us all jump. Nick’s blue eyes frantically moved from the bed to the machine and back, but Howie only continued to sing quietly as I felt the body in my arms finally settle. “Believe me if you can…I’ve finally come back to the house at Pooh Corner by one…what do you know there’s so much to be done…count all the bees in a hive…chase all the clouds in the sky…back to the days of Christopher Robin…back to the ways of Christopher Robin…back to the days of Pooh…” Howie’s high voice drifted into the air and he and I looked at each other before he finally let his head fall into her lap as he wept.

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Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Nineteen