“She was a little fatigued this morning, but she perked up on the ride over. I think doing things like this makes her feel like there’s nothing wrong with her, if only for a little while. She was the same way when we were in New York.”
“I’m glad she wanted to come. I just don’t want her to get run down.”
“I’ve said the same thing to her,” Liz said. “And do you know what her response was?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“She told me not to worry so much, because she ‘still has something important to do.’”
“What does that mean?’
Liz shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
As we stopped and waited for Emily and Marge to catch up, I pondered my sister’s cryptic words. She had always been one for surprises, and I wondered what last mysteries she had up her sleeve.
The next evening, Marge and Liz arrived at my house at seven on the dot. As soon as Liz walked through the door, London took her hand and led her up to the bedroom to show her the aquarium.
Marge was bundled in a scarf and hat, despite the relatively mild temperatures. She also wore gloves and the oversize down jacket I’d brought to the hospital.
It seemed impossible that less than three weeks had passed since she’d been rushed to the hospital.
“Are you ready?” she said impatiently, clearly ready to leave.
I grabbed my jacket and dug out a pair of gloves and a hat, even though I couldn’t imagine needing them. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she said. “Come on. Before I chicken out.”
I was still mystified, but as we began to turn down roads I recognized, I suddenly understood what she had in mind.
“You’re not serious,” I said as she pulled up to the gates and shut off the engine.
“I am,” she said firmly. “And this is your Christmas gift to me.”
As I looked up, the water tower loomed—impossibly, immeasurably tall.
“It’s illegal to climb the water tower,” I said.
“It’s always been illegal. That never stopped us before.”
“We were kids,” I countered.
“And now we’re not,” she said. “You ready? Get your hat and gloves. It’ll probably be windy up top.”
“Marge…”
She stared at me. “I can make the climb,” she said in a voice that left no room for dissent. “After another round of chemo, maybe I won’t be able to. But right now, I still can, and I want you to come with me.”
She didn’t wait for me to answer. Getting out of the car, she strode toward the steel maintenance ladder, leaving me paralyzed with indecision. By the time I scrambled after her, she was already six feet in the air. Which meant, of course, that I had no choice but to start climbing. If she got tired, if she became weak or dizzy, I had to be there to catch her. In the end, it was fear for her that spurred me to follow.
Marge hadn’t been lying. Though she had to take a break every twenty feet or so, she would inevitably start up again, moving relentlessly higher. Below me, I could see rooftops, and I caught the scent of chimney smoke. I was grateful for my gloves, as the metal rungs were cold enough to make my hands stiffen up.
When we finally reached the top, Marge inched her way over to the spot where I’d found her on that terrible night back when she’d been in college. Just like then, she let her feet dangle over the narrow walkway, and I quickly moved to her side. I put my arm around her again, in case she got dizzy.
“You must be feeling the cold,” I said.
“Speak for yourself,” she retorted. “I put on long johns before I came.”
“Fine,” I said. “Then slide your butt closer to me so I can get warm, too.”
She did, and for a while we took in a bird’s-eye view of the neighborhood. It was too cold for the nighttime sound of crickets or frogs; instead, I caught the faintest murmuring of wind chimes and the sound of the breeze as it rustled the branches of trees. That, and the sound of Marge wheezing, low and wet. I wondered how much pain she was in. The cancer, after all, always brings pain.
“I remember when you found me up here, drunk as a skunk,” she said. “Well, not all of it—I actually don’t remember much at all about that night, other than that moment, when you suddenly appeared.”
“It was a rough night,” I said.
“I sometimes wonder what would have happened had you not shown up. I wonder if I really would have jumped, or maybe fallen. I was so heartbroken about Tracey at the time, but I look back now, and can’t help but think it was a good thing. Because in the end, I found Liz. And what Liz and I have is nothing like what I had with Tracey. Ever. She and I just work, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. You guys have something that everyone wants.”
“I’m worried about her,” Marge admitted. “She’s so good at helping other people get through their problems, but I think she gives so much at work, she doesn’t have much left for herself. And it scares me. Because I want her to be okay. I want her to be happy.” She stared out into the distance, almost as if trying to see into the future. “I want her to one day find somebody new, someone who loves her as much I do. Someone she can grow old with.”
I swallowed, forcing the tightness from my throat. “I know.”
“When we were in New York, she swore she has no interest in ever finding someone else. And I actually got really mad at her. We had an argument, and afterward I felt so bad about it. We both did, but…”
“There’s a lot going on, Marge,” I said, my voice soft. “She understands. And she’ll be okay.” If Marge heard me, she gave no sign.
“Do you know what else scares me?”
“What’s that?”
“That she’s going to lose contact with London. She loves that little girl so much… London is a big part of the reason we wanted to have kids of our own. And now—”
“Liz is always going to be part of the family,” I cut in. “I’ll make sure that Liz plays a big part in London’s life.”
“What if London moves to Atlanta?” Marge pressed.
“She’ll still see Liz regularly,” I assured her.
“But you’re only going to have her on the occasional holiday and every other weekend, right? Maybe a couple of weeks in the summer?”
I hesitated. “I honestly don’t know what’s going to happen with London,” I said. Vivian had been more generous, and less volatile, since learning about Marge. But then, she was the least predictable person I knew, and I was leery of making specific promises I couldn’t keep.
She turned toward me. “You have to fight for her,” Marge urged. “London should live with you.”
“Vivian won’t let that happen. And I doubt that the courts will, either.”
“Then you have to figure something out. Because let me tell you something—girls need their fathers. Look at me and Dad. He might not have been the most expressive guy in the world, but I always knew at some really deep level that he was there for me. And look at what he did for me when I came out. We stopped going to church, for God’s sake! He chose me—over God, over our community, over everyone. And if you’re not around for London when she comes to her own crossroads in life, she’s going to feel abandoned by you. You have to be there for her—every day, not just now and then.” She fell silent for a moment, as if winded by her efforts. “Anyway, she’s used to you being the primary parent now,” she added. “And you’re great at it.”
“I’m trying, Marge,” I said.
She grabbed my arm, her voice fierce. “You have to do more than that. You need to do whatever you can in order to remain in London’s life. Not as a weekend or vacation dad, but as the parent who’s always there to hold her when she cries, pick her up when she falls, help her with her homework. To support her when she can’t see a way forward. She needs that from you.”
I stared down at the empty streets below, washed by the halogen glow of streetlights.
“I know she does,” I said quietly. “I just hope I don’t fail.”