In the mirror, a face I barely recognized anymore stared back at me. I dug around in my purse for some lip gloss. I applied a thin coat and then finger-combed my hair, trying desperately to tame it. I didn’t know what to expect, but even thirty-five years older? I wanted to look nice for him.
I walked slowly down the hall. I peeked into Brian’s old room, which Alicia now occupied. She was sitting at a desk, facing me in the doorway. “Go ahead, go see him,” she said.
Making my way into the living room, I noticed the TV was still on, but it had been turned down. I went to the side of his bed. His eyes were closed, and he was wearing an oxygen mask.
I took in his appearance. He still had a full head of hair, but he was completely gray. He was thin and sickly, but I could see my Jax in his face. Standing at his bedside I took his hand in mine.
He opened his eyes and squinted and then smiled. Like no time had passed, he smiled at me with perfect recognition and reverence, the way he always had. With his other hand he pulled the oxygen mask away from his face and said, “Took you long enough.”
I started to cry and laugh at the same time. “Oh, Jax.” I cupped his face and kissed his cheek. “My Jax,” I cried. “Why? Why did this happen?”
“Please don’t cry, Em.” No one had called me that in over thirty years. He started to cough.
“Don’t talk. Here,” I said as I pulled the oxygen mask back onto his face.
I reached in my purse and took out his book that I had found in the thrift store. “I only just found this recently,” I told him. “It wasn’t us; it wasn’t our story.”
He slowly pulled the mask away again. His eyes were sad. “It could have been. I wanted it to be.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Please tell me you had a good life, Em.”
“I had a good life,” I lied. I had to give that to him because he deserved it. If I told him it was horrible, everything we’d done would have been in vain.
“My beautiful girl has come back to me, finally.”
“But it’s too late.” Tears were now running steadily down both our faces.
“Help me sit up,” he said. “I have something for you. Will you call Alicia in here?”
Alicia was there as soon as I turned around. “The box, Alicia,” Jax said. “The small red box on my desk.”
When Alicia returned, she handed him the ring box. “What is that, Jax?” I said.
“What do you think?” He laughed then coughed.
“Slow down,” I warned him. Alicia left the room.
“No, listen. I don’t know how much time I have. You said we were too young, remember? You said we needed to be apart. It was best for us. I never wrote another book because I needed you. I needed my friend. Now we’re here, and we’re not too young anymore. I want to write another book, but I need you with me. I need you to help me.” He opened the ring box to reveal a gold band.
“Oh, Jax, I’ve only just walked through your door.”
“Jesus, Emerson. Did you hear me? I don’t know how much time I have left.” He laughed and coughed again. “How much longer are you gonna make me wait?” He took a breath from the mask. “Marry me, dammit. Spend the rest of my short life with me. Do whatever you want after that, but stay here and marry me. We’ll sit outside and listen to the creek and we’ll make up stories like we always did before.”
It was still him, my old friend, my protector, the love of my life. As sick as he looked, he was still sharp as a whip. “I will marry you, Jackson Fisher.” I pressed my lips to his. “I will take care of you now. I’m sorry I waited so long,” I whispered.
WE DID EXACTLY what we promised each other. I moved back to the long dirt road. A pastor from a local church came to the house and married us, with Alicia and Leila as our witnesses. Every day I would wheel Jax out to the back porch and we’d listen to the cicadas buzzing over the sound of the creek in the distance. He would make up stories and I would write them down. I planted a garden and turned the shed into a little writing hut while Jax watched me from his porch. He still had a sense of humor and told me I was more interesting to look at than the TV. I said that meant a lot coming from him.
Doctors said he was beyond treatment and that we just had to make him as comfortable as possible.
He and I watched every sunset together until he was gone. Five weeks after I first went to see him, he died in my arms.
I don’t know much about fate, but I know something brought me back there. Maybe I fought that force for too long, or maybe everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to.
The last words out of Jackson Fisher’s mouth as I held him were, “There once was a boy and a girl . . .”
The end.
For my Em. Don’t wait this long. Come let me love you.
19. Until You Know It’s Right
Cara was standing in my doorway. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“Pale” was an understatement. I was hyperventilating. “I just finished the book.”
“Ohhh.” She smiled.
“So. I have to pack my shit. I’ve got to go.” I got up and started running around the room, throwing all my stuff in bags.