Hawthorne & Heathcliff

Standing, I brushed a kiss across his cheek, my arms wrapping around his frail neck. “For my sake, Uncle,” I whispered.

 

Behind us, Heathcliff and Rebecca snuck away, Rebecca’s murmured, “I’ll just go get the cake,” a distant echo in the hallway.

 

I barely heard her. There was only Uncle Gregor’s hard breathing, and his dear, beautiful face. His strong, enduring face.

 

My heart hurt. It hurt so bad, I could barely breathe. I didn’t know where to put the emotions, where to place all of the grief so that it didn’t feel like it was crushing me.

 

“For my sake,” my uncle whispered. “You can do this, Hawthorne. For my sake.”

 

The tears burst forth, and they never stopped coming. They followed me throughout the day, a constant threat despite the laughter Heathcliff’s family brought when they joined us, their cars crunching up the gravel drive. His family had become a regular in my life. I think they saw me as their lifeline, as a way to keep Heathcliff from leaving town after graduation. I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I knew I would. Because holding Heathcliff back was the same thing as losing him.

 

Mams was the only one who understood.

 

She cornered me in the yard, her wise eyes on the festivities. “Happy birthday, girl!” she cackled.

 

She was faring better than my uncle, her days numbered, but longer than most. A new no salt diet, dialysis, and occasional surgeries to relieve the pressure in her abdomen kept her on her feet and moving. Oh, it was obvious she was hurting. There were times when the fluid in her body built up enough she even lost her wits, but she was surviving.

 

“You should be laughing,” she scolded me.

 

I glanced at her. “I’m scared to do anything,” I admitted. “I’m scared I’ll cry instead.

 

“Pish posh!” Mams admonished. Startled, I stared at her, and she grinned. “I’m not goin’ to tell you to be strong today. That’s a little much to ask, but I am goin’ to tell you to be resilient. You’re a good girl, Hawthorne. You’ve got good blood in your veins, and a right head on your shoulders. You ain’t gotta have everythin’ figured out. That comes later, but your heart is going to take you in the right direction.” Her gaze flew across the yard to Heathcliff. “Otherwise, my grandson wouldn’t have seen something in you to save.”

 

My gaze followed hers, my brows furrowing. “Save?”

 

Mams laughed. “Oh, you young ones really like to hide your heads in the sand.” She shook her head. “I know you’ve heard the story about my dog, Rat. That boy just seems to know when to pull something out of the gutter. He knows how to fix things, he does. I’ve got faith in him. Just remember something for me, would you, girl?” Her gaze returned to my face, and I saw the ferocity there. “That boy spends so much time saving everyone else that he doesn’t even realize he needs it, too. When I’m gone, save him for me, Hawthorne.”

 

Shocked, I whispered, “He’s leaving.”

 

She snorted. “Oh, I know. He needs to, but the world is a crazy place. It jades a person, and when he comes back, he’s going to need to remember the boy he was to make him the man he needs to be.” Her gaze fell to my feet. “He’s got a way of tellin’ a story, you know. Told me all about you and your shoes.” She chuckled. “Funny way to meet if you ask me, and yet …” She searched my gaze, her eyes digging into my soul. “Shoes can tell a lot about a person. The journey they take you on can tell a lot about how they’ll hold up.”

 

With that, she walked away, supported by a cane. Her words didn’t leave with her. They echoed, joining the myriad of thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head.

 

That night, when everyone had left and the house was quiet, I climbed into bed with my Uncle Gregor. It wasn’t his regular bed. That had been replaced by a hospital version, an IV stand next to it. I didn’t know enough about medicine to know what the nurses came to do to him, but they helped, and for that I was grateful.

 

Squeezing in next to my uncle, I listened to his breathing. It was harsher than it used to be, but it was there.

 

“The sign looked good hanging up, didn’t it?” Uncle Gregor asked suddenly.

 

His voice startled me, and I glanced up at his face. His eyes were closed, his lips curled in a weary smile.

 

“It did,” I answered.

 

The Vincent men had helped place the sign at the end of the lane, marking the For My Sake Plantation, the sporadic work Max had continued to do on the property turning our home into something glorious rather than miserable. We’d used a Polaroid camera to snap a picture of the sign and the house before taking it to Gregor.

 

“I’m so proud of you, Hawthorne,” my uncle murmured. “So very proud.”

 

The tears I’d been holding back all day flooded down my face. “You did it, Uncle Gregor. Everything I am is because of you.”

 

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