I wasn’t sure that he did, but maybe. It felt like thousands of question marks were floating in the air, and instead of grabbing them out of the air and shaking them for answers, we were simply accepting the mystery of the moment.
The automated front doors slid open and a rush of cool air greeted us. Julian steered us toward the elevator bank. As we waited to go up, he said, “I don’t want it to be like this for us.”
Something inside me turned. I felt a swell of emotion—it reminded me of how I felt the first time I listened to one of Julian’s songs—an overwhelming feeling of sadness and uncertainty, but somehow there was also a trace of hope. I untucked myself from under his arm so I could look up at his face.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued, “I don’t want to wait until I’m dying to make things right between us.”
The elevator doors dinged open and we stepped inside. It was only us in the small box headed up to the fourth floor.
“I regret that a lot, you know?” he said. His face was solemn, but his eyes were hazy. “That I waited this long to see my dad. And now I won’t ever have the chance to make amends with him.”
We stepped out of the elevator. I started to walk down the hallway, but he put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me.
“Taliah,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. “When someone’s dying, we make it all about the firsts and the lasts. We recount things from the beginning and from the end, but we hardly ever talk about the middle. But it’s the middle that matters, you know?”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t quite sure. “I know I missed your beginning, but what I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to miss the middle. I want to be there for the meat of your life. I don’t want to just show up at the end in a hurried attempt to put a bow on all my mistakes.”
I broke away from his gaze. “I get that,” I said slowly.
“You do?” he pressed.
“I do. But I also think that this moment isn’t really about you and me. It’s about you and your dad.” I shuffled my feet.
“It’s about us, too,” he urged. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then I followed his gaze to Debra and another woman who were standing outside the doorway of one of the hospital rooms.
“There’s Mom,” Julian said. “And my sister, Sarah.”
Sarah looked like a younger version of Debra. She had the same squat build, but her hair hadn’t whitened. It was a cornmeal blond, only slightly darker than Julian’s. And she, like all the Olivers I’d met so far, had the same glacier eyes. My eyes.
They walked toward us. Sarah and Debra were even dressed alike. In flowing, loose-fitting, flower-patterned smock dresses. Sarah, though, had a few more “granola” touches to her ensemble—Birkenstocks and a bag made of recycled materials that advertised a clean water charity. I’d later learn that Sarah worked as a third-grade teacher at the local elementary school.
“Julian,” Sarah said. It wasn’t exactly warm. But it wasn’t cold either. “You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here, Sarah.”
Sarah’s eyes fell on me. “And you must be Taliah.”
I gave a little wave. “Nice to meet you.”
“I loved your mother,” she said. Her voice cracked a bit, and she raised her hand to her mouth as if she wanted to swallow her sadness back. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, not looking at Julian or me in particular. “It’s just a hard day.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said gently. I loved your mother. That sentence didn’t have to be past tense. Mom was still alive. Mom was in Paris. Clueless about all of this.
She looked at me again. “Can I hug you?”
Before I had a chance to respond, she had enveloped me in a warm and sweaty hug. I had thought her hug was going to make me feel uncomfortable, but there was something comforting about it. Something unexpectedly familiar. When she finally pulled away, she dabbed at her eyes.
“This is all … it’s all, just, a lot, you know?” she said to Julian.
He nodded in agreement. “I know it is. Where are the bear cubs?”
I slowly caught on that the bear cubs to whom he was referring were Sarah’s two boys, Brady and Carter—my two cousins who had apparently already been gossiping about me to Toby. It felt weird to know I’d been the subject of speculation. And even weirder to know that all of that speculation was driven by the fact that I was linked to Julian.
Sarah explained to Julian that the boys were at home with their father, Todd. “You know, JP,” she said, “they aren’t really bear cubs anymore. They’re twelve.” She glanced at me and offered, “Twins.”
I shuffled my feet uncomfortably.
“And you’re …?” Sarah asked.
“Sixteen,” I answered.
“So a little bit older. I’ve been trying to figure out how to handle this with them. You know, whenever situations like this come up with one of my students, I always advise parents to handle things head-on. And the boys are obviously much older than my students now. But I’ve still been shielding them from this.” She shook her head and stared at the ground. “I just don’t know.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Sar,” Julian said generously. “You’re a fantastic mother.”
“How would you know?” Sarah said, and the sharpness in her voice startled me. It was such a change from the melancholy wistfulness of before. “You haven’t been around at all to see how I am as a mother. My boys wouldn’t know who you are if it weren’t for MTV.”
“MTV.” Julian shook his head. “There’s no music on MTV anymore. I’m definitely not on MTV frequently. At least I don’t think I am.” He turned to me, a jokey glint in his eye. “Am I on MTV?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t about to get in the middle of whatever was brewing between them.
“That’s not the point,” Sarah snapped. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know,” Julian said.
Sarah tugged on her tote bag’s strap. “Do you, though? Do you, JP?”
“I’m here now,” Julian said firmly.
“And what? You want a trophy for that?”
“Sarah,” Debra finally interjected. She clasped her hands together. “Now is not the time to fight.”
“So what? We’re just supposed to pretend like everything’s okay?”
Debra’s lips moved like she was about to say something, but Julian cut her off. “Look, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I haven’t been home as much as I should’ve been, but railing into me isn’t going to make Dad better.”
Sarah hung her head.
“How is he?” Julian asked, and I watched him glance at the door to his father’s hospital room.
“Still unconscious,” Debra said. “The doctors …”
Debra sniffled and Sarah put her hand on her shoulder. She continued for Debra, “The doctors say the stroke was severe. His heart is giving out and his brain activity is slowing.” Her voice cracked. “We’re losing him, Julian. This is it.”
Julian’s face went blank. Stoic. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans. He let out an audible breath. “I’m gonna go see him, okay?” he said, half asking.
Sarah and Debra nodded.