She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, but not yet falling. “He came in here yesterday and told us about you. You know what I noticed, Paul? You know what I saw in him the most?”
“No.”
“Happiness. It was such a bright thing, such a fierce thing. He was so proud that he was able to find someone like you, that you belonged to him. I’ve never seen him so sure about anything in his life.”
How many more times did I need to hear that before I started to believe it? “Trust me, I’m not that great,” I told her honestly. “He was just talking me up. For whatever reason, he does that, though I don’t know why. I tend to trip and run into things like dogs and walls. I can’t control my mouth and end up saying things that make situations far more awkward then they really need to be. And I’m pretty sure that my ancestors once owned slaves and we’ve never made reparations for that, so my family is probably cursed by some ancient form of African voodoo magic. So… you know.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “And it’s only been a week.”
“You know, for someone who talks highly about the worth of another, you don’t seem to know your own,” she said.
I tried to stop myself from rolling my eyes, but I didn’t succeed. “I know you’re probably filled with a bunch of medicine right now, but I hope you’re not so high that you think you’re a fortune cookie.”
She laughed. “I like you, Paul.”
“You do?” I asked, surprised. “I’ve broken into your hospital room, chewed you out as I criticized your parenting skills, all the while reminding you that you probably only have a few days left to live and demanding that you do things the way I want you to. And then you say you like me? If I were you, I’d probably hate my guts and get the Secret Service in here to take me away and throw my body in a ditch near the Mexican border. If you do that, I ask that you tell them to make it quick because I think I’d be a big baby under torture. It’s probably why I could never be a spy.”
“And that’s the only reason?”
“I can act,” I said with a scowl. “I played a block of cheese once, you know.”
“Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you care for my son?”
“More than I thought possible,” I confessed. “I tried to fight it. Honestly. My parents….”
She waited.
I pushed forward. “They married a week after they met. And the way they met was weirdly mirroring how Vince and I met, and it’s just so damn implausible and it doesn’t make sense. It’s like the universe is trying to shove your son down my throat and I’m trying to show I don’t have a gag reflex, and now that I think about it, I really wish I hadn’t just said that to you. That your son goes down my throat, not that I don’t have a gag reflex.” I blushed furiously. “Er. Both, actually. Look, can you please not think about me having sex with your son? It’d really make my day. Where is that fucking time machine when you need it?”
She grinned at me. “I don’t think I’ll get that image out of my head for as long as I live.”
I choked on my tongue. “Did you just make a dying joke?” I asked in awe.
“Too soon?” she asked, arching her eyebrow and looking so much like Vince that I wanted to see him so badly right that second I almost hurt.
“Well, at least we know that regardless of whatever else you could have been, a comedian would have been one thing.”
“Is he going to be hurt, after I’m gone?”
I frowned. “You’re his mother. It doesn’t matter what happened before. He’s still going to lose you. Yes. It’s going to hurt him.”
She nodded. “Then I need you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“That you’ll take care of him. That you won’t let him hurt for too long before you make him smile again. I am asking that you watch over my son, Paul. To make sure that he will come out of this okay.”
I started to backpedal. “What about his dad? Or Darren? Or anyone else who has known him longer than I have? What if we decide we hate each other next week? What if he decides he hates me like an hour from now? He doesn’t know I’m here. I’m pretty sure this constitutes as lying. Already.”
“My husband won’t understand,” she said sadly. “And maybe that’s my fault. I’ve sided with him for far too long. I’ve put his career ahead of things that I should not have ignored. I thought it was for the best, but I was wrong. Hindsight is a dangerous thing, especially this close to the end.”
“What about Darren?” I asked desperately. “He’s got to be able to do more.”
Her eyes hardened. “Darren,” she said slowly. “There’s something you should know about Darren. He and Vince are—”
“Paul?” A surprised voice. A confused voice. A hurt voice.