“Victor, I can’t do this. I’m not ready for goodbye,” she whispers.
“This isn’t goodbye,” I insist. “This is me reminding you of the man you fell in love with, reminding you why you ever took this crazy journey with a man like me in the first place. This is me giving you the attention you deserve, Grace. I know I’m late but better late than never,” I say as my throat tightens.
“I don’t need a reminder as to why I took the journey, my heart reminds me with every beat it takes,” she whispers.
“You got good at the sweet talk too,” I joke, fighting the cough but failing. The next few moments are quiet on her end as she listens to my lungs fail me and the cancer rear its ugly head. I drop the receiver attempting to shield her from my fate. Once I finally have it under control, I lift the receiver back to my ear.
“Victor?”
I’m here,” I rasp.
“I filed a request with Bureau of Prisons for permission to have you treated by a private doctor,” she reveals.
“Grace—”
“I’ve stood by your side through everything, Victor, every single thing and most of the time I didn’t even blink an eye. But now it’s your turn to remember something. I need for you to remember the vows we took and how I promised before God to love you in sickness and in health. I’m sorry but I can’t sit back idly this time.”
I could argue with her but what’s the point, they won’t grant her the request, and by the time she gets her answer I’ll probably have already passed. There was no crime in letting her hang onto hope while I restore what’s left of us.
“Okay, Gracie,” I pacify. “We’ll play it your way, sweetheart.”
“Wow,” she whispers. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear those words.”
“First time for everything,” I tease. “I am running out of time and the COs already tapped his watch ten times, but tell me, how are our girls?”
“I told them the truth,” she admits. “They’re heartbroken to say the least but they will come and visit this week.”
“I’ll fix it,” I promise. “I’ll make it okay for them to let me go,” I assure her.
“That’s not up to you,” she argues. “They’re entitled to feel however they want. You’re their father for crying out loud. You can’t fix death, you can’t repair the hole it leaves in one’s heart,” she says heatedly. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to yell.”
“It’s okay.” I draw in a deep breath, rubbing my chest as I fill my black lungs with air.
“There’s something…I have to…I have to tell you,” she hesitates. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I never liked being kept in the dark and you have a right to know.”
“Tell me,” I urge.
“Nikki is having some medical issues. They took all kinds of tests and tomorrow she will get the results.”
“What kind of medical issues?” I ask. My bravado disappearing as the question leaves my lips.
“She went to the gynecologist because she was having irregular bleeding and severe cramping so the doctor sent her for a full checkup.”
“Well, what are they testing her for?”
“A bunch of things,” she says vaguely.
“Gracie don’t beat around the bush,” I demand hoarsely.
“It could be anything, a cyst breaking down or maybe it’s endometriosis but they want to rule out uterine or ovarian cancer as well.”
Tears well in my eyes as I imagine my youngest daughter. Her smile always so big and bright just like the biggest star. A light that can never be dimmed, no matter how hard she was pushed.
Please, keep shining.
“I’m going to the doctor with her and Michael tomorrow when they get the results,” she continues. “She’s going to be fine,” she assures me.
“Of course she is,” I rasp, blinking away the tears. “You need to believe that too,” I remind her knowing she was probably driving herself mad with worry. The urge to scream fills me as I realize I am forcing Grace to endure something alone. Again. I should be there holding her hand as she forgets about herself and becomes Nikki’s strength.
“God wouldn’t do that to me,” she utters. “He wouldn’t take you and our girl from me. He isn’t that cruel.”
“Listen to me, Gracie, she’s going to be fine. God’s just testing her. He’s going to teach her a lesson by showing her how strong she truly is.”
“Pastore, it’s time,” the guard calls.
“I’ve got to hang up now, Gracie,” I say regretfully. “I love you, beautiful,” I whisper.
“I love you too, Victor,” she cries.
I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye and knew she couldn’t either. I hang the receiver up gently before releasing an anguished scream and lifting the receiver into my hand again, slamming it down over and over before dropping it and turning around to the CO.
“Take me back to my cell,” I ground out.
Once the cell closes, and I am alone in my cage, I close my eyes and there she is—my Gracie.
Only this time she wasn’t alone. This time she was with Nikki.
Twelve days.
Three visits.
One more phone call.