“Then what happened?” I ask, the question that's haunted my heart for months now coming out. “Why didn't you ever write me like you promised?”
“Because I was a boy who didn't do a good job of unpacking his bag when he got home,” Tyler admits. “The paper with your address on it must have gotten tossed in the washer, because when I went through my things later to try and find it, I couldn't find anything. And then when I took my stuff out of the washer, I found a wadded up, beaten up and nearly pulpish ball of what had been notebook paper. I didn't even know your family name. You were always Pocahontas to me. But it does explain so much to me, too.”
“Like what?” I ask, and Tyler smirks.
“From the first moment I saw you at the airport, there was always that little voice in my head that said I knew you. That somehow, we knew each other. After a while I just said that it was coincidence that you were so much like Pocahontas from camp, and that I was so attracted to you. You . . . you've always been special to me.”
I laugh and nod. “Me too. You were my first kiss.”
“You were mine,” Tyler says shockingly, confirming it with a nod, “and if my memory is right, the first time I ever touched a girl's boob too.”
I can't help it, I laugh and come forward, hugging him. Tyler kisses me, his tongue soft and probing, and I moan into his mouth. I want him, but now isn't the time, as much as I want it. He wants it too, and it is with regret that we part. “We came to meet my parents, and they should be getting back from their appointments very soon.”
In fact, Mom came back first, being guided by a nurse who makes sure she doesn't get lost. Mom, who thinks that the nurse is her old high school classmate Hillary, thanks her and comes in. She’s looking good today though, and is mostly in her right mind. “Oh, April! How nice you could come. Is it Sunday already?”
“No Mom, it's Saturday, the team has a bye this week. I know, it seems like I was just here the other day.”
“Well honey, it's got to be tough with your university studies,” Mom answers, ignoring my part about the team, but at least giving me a clue to her state of mind. She thinks it's a few years ago, just after her diagnosis. “Are you sure you're not going to fail a test?”
“I’m sure, there's nothing coming up for a long time,” I say, giving Tyler a wink and a hopeful glance. “Mom, I'd like to introduce you to someone.”
“Oh, I know Tyler!” Mom says, brightening. “Why, I just watched you the other day on TV! You play football, right?”
“Yes ma'am, that's me. Are you a Fighters fan?”
“Oh no, but my husband loves the Fighters. At least this season. He's watched all the games. It helps him feel stronger. You know, until the treatments are finished, he needs all the moral support he can get.”
Tyler comes over and takes her hand and helps her over to a chair. Mom's still got most of her motor skills, but she gets tired quickly nowadays, and Tyler's giving her all his charm and his best smile, and I swear she’s even blushing a little bit as he holds her fingertips and helps her down. “I'm glad I can help your husband. I can see where April gets her beauty from.”
Mom's blush deepens, and Tyler comes back to my side. “You're going to have to keep a hold on him. Handsome, charming, and a good athlete. You certainly found a diamond this time. Tell me he's a gentleman as well.”
“He's a perfect gentleman,” I say, taking his hand. “He's been a perfect gentleman. But Mom, how was your visit with the doctors?”
“Oh, they say what they say, but I never give them any mind,” Mom says with a wave of her hand. “They want me to take vitamins and stuff, but I feel just fine. I'm just humoring them until Adam finishes his treatments. You know, after they caught it so early I hoped that it would be over, but I guess they missed something. It's okay though, I'm sure he'll be fine in time to see April graduate next year.”
I swallow hard, and I can see Tyler's look of concern on his face. “I'm sure he will,” Tyler reassures her. “I'm sure April's father will always remember that day.”
Mom smiles and drifts away into a daze, randomly picking up pieces of long ago conversations and dropping them into the middle of the silence, sometimes looking at Tyler and I like we're totally different people.
“You know Jeremy, it wouldn't be so bad if you just got that Flock of Seagulls cut of yours trimmed down some. Mr. Pemberton would get off your case about it, and work would go so much easier.”
“Flock of Seagulls?” Tyler asks, looking over at me.
“Eighties band, famous hair,” I whisper. “Later.”
Tyler nods and turns his attention back to Mom. “Well, that's true, but I happen to like it. It's like . . . totally rad.”
Mom laughs and smiles. “You sound like one of those California surfer dudes. Hardly befitting a McGill man, don't you think?”
Mom drifts off again before Tyler can reply, and he leans over. “Jeremy?”