Kelley is worried about Bart.
Mitzi is worried as well, although by necessity her worrying has to be divided between Bart and Kelley. She’s putting up a pretty strong front, stronger than Kelley thought possible. Likely, she’s in denial. She talks about getting the most out of the time Kelley has left, but she’s also praying for a miracle. She prayed for a miracle with Bart—and look what happened! He came home, safe and sound.
Here Kelley would like to point out that there is probably a one-miracle-per-family limit; otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair. Kelley knows there won’t be a miracle where he’s concerned. He feels his body shutting down. He’s going to die and he’s okay with that. He had a long, elucidating conversation with his old friend Father Paul, and they agreed that Kelley should make his peace with the people he’s leaving behind and then have faith that God will take over from there.
Kelley can’t share this philosophy with Mitzi, however. She will accuse him of giving up.
Kelley is worried about Mitzi. He doesn’t think she can or should run the inn by herself. She should sell the inn and buy something smaller or move away altogether. Her parents have died; her brother died. Her only family once Kelley is gone will be Bart and Kelley’s other kids.
Kelley has had serious conversations with Patrick, Kevin, and Ava: they are not to let Bart and Mitzi fall through the cracks.
We won’t, Dad, they said.
Kelley tells himself that he will have a brass-tacks conversation with Mitzi about selling the inn this week.
At that moment Mitzi bursts into the room. What remains of Kelley’s sandwich is on the lunch plate before him, along with an untouched dill spear and the half-empty bag of chips.
“You are a very naughty patient,” Mitzi says, and she leans in to kiss his greasy, salty lips. She always gives him long, lingering kisses now, and he savors each one. She smells like woodsmoke and fresh air. Her cheeks are pink and her curly hair is windblown. She grows more beautiful each day, at least in Kelley’s mind. He feels he’s adjusting well to his prognosis, but he won’t lie: he experiences fiendish jealousy whenever he thinks of the man Mitzi will fall in love with after Kelley is gone. If he were to voice this thought, Mitzi would throw herself headlong into his arms and vow that she will never meet anyone else. She will remain faithful to Kelley until her own death. And whereas, selfishly, this is exactly what Kelley wants, he knows it is unfair and unrealistic. Mitzi is exactly like one of the heroines in Danielle Steel’s novels. Kelley will die and Mitzi will think her own life is over. She will never find love again. She will consider joining an ashram or adopting a cat. But then one day she’ll be shopping at Annye’s Whole Foods, and she will reach for the last package of flaxseeds—no, kale chips!—at the very same time as a handsome stranger. After deflecting her gentle protests, the stranger will insist Mitzi take the kale chips, and as they’re standing in line, he will reveal that his beloved wife of thirty years has just died of MS and he has come to Nantucket to take long walks on the beach and reflect on his loss.
Or… Mitzi will take a trip to Sedona, a place Kelley knows she has long wanted to visit. She will wander into a crystal shop and suddenly feel a hand on her back. It will be the mysterious, bearded owner of the crystal shop, who will ask if Mitzi would like to join him in a cup of matcha. Mitzi will not believe the way the universe provided for her at—literally—her lowest moment.
Mitzi breaks the spell of Kelley’s awful reverie. “I just had the best conversation with the caterer! This party is going to be So. Much. Fun.”
Party? Kelley thinks. What party? He wonders for an instant if Mitzi is already planning his funeral reception. Why else would she need a caterer? Then he remembers Bart’s birthday party at the VFW. Kelley tried to discourage Mitzi from planning this party. Why would she take on such an enormous project when her husband was dying and her son was depressed?
She looked at him as though he were a moron, and he realized that was the point. Kelley was dying and Bart was depressed; Mitzi needed a happy distraction. Still, Kelley worries the party will put too much pressure on Bart. He doesn’t like being the center of attention. He didn’t want any kind of celebration when he came home from Afghanistan, and there he was, a war hero. Kelley himself would have taken the Chamber of Commerce up on their offer of a parade, but Bart said he couldn’t stand to be honored when half of his fellow Marines had been killed by the Bely.
Mitzi was inviting everyone they knew to the VFW. It would be a Halloween version of their Christmas Eve party. Once Kelley realized that, he turned to Mitzi and said, “Why don’t we just throw our Christmas Eve party as usual?”
“But that’s so far away,” Mitzi said. Before Kelley could chide her for being as impatient as a child, she kissed his forehead and said, “And you’re feeling good now.”
That was when Kelley understood that Mitzi didn’t think Kelley would make it to the holidays. She didn’t think he would make it two more months. Wow. Well, he would show her! There was no greater motivation for doing anything—including staying alive—than being able to tell your spouse: I told you so.
There followed some days, however, when Kelley feared that Mitzi was right. He felt he could barely keep breathing for another hour, much less two more months.
Now he has decided to follow Bart’s lead and just nod along when Mitzi talks about the party. It will be fun. Sort of. Kelley will have to attend in his wheelchair, but if he takes pain medication, he should be able to stay alert. He won’t be out on the dance floor—yes, Mitzi hired a band, some operation called Maxxtone that Kevin recommended—but it’ll be fun to see people.
“The caterer suggested a mashed potato bar,” Mitzi says. “It’s a thing. They make a big pot of mashed potatoes, and then there are dishes of toppings—scallions, cheddar cheese, sour cream, bacon…”
“Bacon?” Kelley says, perking up. “You agreed to bacon?”
“I know it’s your favorite,” Mitzi says.
“Was my favorite,” Kelley says. Does he have to remind Mitzi that she forbids him from eating bacon—as well as sausage, ham, pulled pork, hamburger, meatballs of any kind, veal chops, marbled steak, dark-meat chicken, and “fatty” fish such as salmon?
“I’ve had a talk with Laura—” Mitzi says.
“Lara,” Kelley says. “Her name is Lara. Not Laura. You have to pronounce it correctly or she gets upset.”
Mitzi nods, though Kelley is certain she didn’t process the correction. “Laura seems to think it’s fine for you to eat the foods you love. She was very persuasive.”
“You mean, you agree with her?” Kelley says.
“Yes,” Mitzi says, and she gives Kelley another lovely kiss. “I want you to be happy.”