Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbyeby Judy Collins
“Is it raining?”
I looked up from my book when Nate spoke, his voice laden with drowsiness. “Yes. It has been all day. Perfect weather for curling up with a good book ... or napping. So between us, we’ve got this covered.”
“Hmm.” He turned his head, blinking at the gray light filtering into the bedroom. “It’s so cold. Feels like it should be snow.”
I reached over to tuck the heavy comforter more securely around Nate’s legs. “The temperature’s not quite low enough here for snow, but I bet they’re getting some of the white stuff up at home.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Where’s Mom?”
I bit my lip, swallowing back a surge of unease. “She and your dad drove up to see Leo’s game today. The Rebels are playing in Philly.”We talked about this last night. Don’t you remember?I didn’t say the words, because they would accomplish nothing. A nurse and a social worker from hospice had come to talk with us last week, and one of the signs of progression they’d mentioned was an increase in memory lapses.
“As the patient continues his journey to the end, he begins to disengage with the world around him. It’s completely normal, but it can be upsetting for his family. Try to keep in mind that it’s not intentional. Be as tolerant as you can be. Pointing out the forgetfulness isn’t helpful, so just answer the questions, even if you already have.”
So now I repeated what we’d discussed the night before. “Lisa and Joe invited my mom and your parents to go over with them to see Leo play. They’re staying overnight at home, and then your mom’ll be back here tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” Nate’s eyes slid closed again, but he kept talking. “When’s the game? Are we going to watch?”
I leaned back in my chair and propped my feet on the end of the bed. “I was going to, but if you want, I can bring the television in here so we can see it together. How does that sound?”
“Good.” He yawned. “You didn’t go with them to see Leo, huh?”
My heart thumped against my chest wall. “Of course not. I wanted to be with you.” I nudged his foot with mine. “Besides, it’s too cold to sit outside. I’d rather be here, nice and cozy with you. I took out some ground beef, so maybe I’ll make us some chili and cornbread. How does that sound?”
One side of his mouth tipped up a little. “You know I’ll eat anything you make. But I’m not that hungry right now. Maybe later.”
“All right.” I opened my book again, thinking he was drifting back to sleep, as he did so often these days.
But apparently he wasn’t ready yet. “Quinn. I need to talk with you about something. I kept waiting for another time, when I felt better, could be more awake, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. So I need you to not let me fall asleep while we talk, okay?”
I frowned. “Nate, you can sleep if you want to. It’s all right. I’m not going anywhere. We can talk later.”
His head moved restlessly on the pillow. “No, gotta be now. I want to talk with you about Leo.”
This was the very last conversation I’d expected and coincidentally the one I least wanted to have. “Nate, come on. Let’s not do this.”
“Don’t make me waste my energy arguing. I just need you to listen.” He licked his lips as though it might help him speak.
“Do you need some water? Or something else to drink?” I shut my book again and let it slide to the floor as I stood up.
“No. Listen to me, Quinn. I know how you feel about Leo. I know you love him. I know that, for you, Leo’s always been the one.”
Tears were threatening, but I was not going to give in. Not now. “This is hardly the conversation I want to have with my husband. What’re you trying to say, Nate?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just saying, I know you’re in love with him. Maybe in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking that once I’m gone, the two of you might have another chance.”
Now I couldn’t help crying. I wasn’t sure if it was at the idea of Nate’s death or the thought of Leo, but I wiped angrily at my wet cheeks. “That’s a horrible thing to say to me, Nate. Horrible and hurtful.”
“It’s not meant to be, Quinn. It’s supposed to be us being real, like we’ve always been. I tell you the truth. You tell me, too. This is not the time to change that.”
I drew in a ragged breath. “Are you going to tell me that I’m not meant to be with Leo? Is that what this is all about?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.” He slitted his eyes open. “Even if I believed that, what good would it do to tell you? No. I just want to tell you ... it’s okay. It’s okay for you to love Leo, to make a life with him.” A smile ghosted across his pale face. “A life that I hope will last a hell of a lot longer than what we’ve had. But I couldn’t wish for you to be any happier than I’ve been these last six months, because it’s just not possible. No one will ever be happier than I’ve been.”
I sniffled, reaching for the box of tissues next to Nate’s bed. “You’ve made me happy, too, Nate. I love you, and I’ll never stop. No matter what, no matter how long I live, you’ll always be a part of me.”
“I hope so. I think ... I don’t want to be forgotten, you know? I’m not leaving any legacy. No children, no great work of literature, no world-changing scientific discovery. All I’m leaving is the love I have for you. So I hope you’ll think of me sometimes.”
