“Art, what’swrong?”
“Oh, you know, sometimes a day knows how to take it out ofyou.”
It was the most he could say to alleviate Wes’s concern without outright lying tohim.
Wes didn’t push further, something Art was appreciative of as he continued along that familiar path, back to the pond. He didn’t sit on their log. He just stood behind it, holding on to either arm as he struggled to accept the news he’d beenpresented.
He gazed out at the water rippling with the wind. The fowl were gone, surely having flown south for the winter. The life the woods had been filled with that summer had faded and was replaced with fallen leaves and dormant pines and oaks. A few sparse birds—chickadees and finches—remained, as well as some chipmunks, which reminded Art that despite how bleak the sight was, all was not truly dead…only different. However, with this particular winter came not only the cold that bit at his cheeks, but something darker, somethingpainful.
As much as he wished it could have been different, that their lives could have kept on going in the pleasant direction that seemed to lead to happily ever after, it had turned on him, twisting a dream into an insidiousnightmare.
“Penny for yourthoughts.”
Art wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it must’ve been quite a bit, for when he turned and saw Wes, he knew it was unlikely he had wandered out there in a few minutes, even though in some ways, that was how it had felt tohim.
“I should have picked a spot a little more difficult for you to find,” Art said, a sort of bitter amusement at the awkward position he found himselfin.
Leaves shifted with Wes’s steps as he approached, and soon he stood next toArt.
Wes didn’t say a word, but put his arm around Art and simply stood with him. “We can just enjoy this for as long as we need to. Our beautiful view, and my love foryou.”
His words made Art feel the weight of the news…the need for a confession. “The results from my colonoscopy came back. Just seemed another one of the many tests we endure. I figured it would be nothing, but I saw Bernietoday.”
Wes waited patiently, but Art didn’t have it in him to say more thanthat.
Notyet.
“He says I could need surgery, chemo, radiation. Who knows? It’ll be a lot, forsure.”
As he spoke the words, the reality set in, the one he had hoped to avoid, though it felt more like relief to say the words than like the pain he’d anticipated. Although, in some ways, he felt as though he were talking about someone else rather thanhimself.
Wes said, “I imagine you’ll have to speak to an oncologist before you reallyknow—”
“Don’t placate me, Wes. Not you. We’ve both known people with varying types of cancer, and even with the best-case scenario, it’s going to be hard. Even if I get better. I won’t be the same. I’m seventy-seven. I’ve been lucky my body’s been this kind to me for as long as it has, but…it’s going to berough.”
“And I’ll be here with you throughit.”
Art turned to him for the first time since he’d heard the news, looked into those dark-brown eyes that at one time had been a source of absolute joy for him, but now with that, came a sting. “There you are, Wes Brenner, coming in with all this determination and strength and confidence. You’re a good man. But I don’t want this for you.” Art snickered a sort of bitter laugh at this horrible obstacle the universe had placed before them. “Is this how your God works?” He awaited a response, but Wes seemed confused by where he’d taken the conversation. Art figured he wasn’t making much sense, though considering what he’d just heard from Bernie, he didn’t feel like it was his job to be all that coherent. “I don’t even believe in God, yet here I am, cursing him because it does seem like this horrible twist of fate. Like I’m being punished because I can’t have something good in mylife.”
“You’re not being punished, Art. Not any more than Becca or Mike…or anyone either of us has lost in thislife.”
“If you have any sort of faith, you must think it’s horrible that your God would do this to you again and again. I’ve seen how you look when you talk about losing your child and your ex-wife. I don’t want to be the one who does that to you. I don’t want the end for you to be watching me slipaway.”
Wes seemed to think his words over carefully, as though he didn’t want to mess up and say the wrong thing—something Art could more than understand considering his state of mind. “I understand why you’re panicking right now,” Wes finally said. “It’s a lot to process. But I never stood by Becca or Mike out of obligation. I was with them because I loved them and because I wanted to spend as much time as I could with them. If I had to go back, do you really think I would choose to not have been there, to not have cherished every last memory, every last moment as much as I possibly could with them? You think I would have wanted to go off to some exotic paradise and that I would just vanquish my love for them for mymemories?”
“Of course I don’t thinkthat.”
“Then why do you think that aboutyou? Why do you think it would be so easy for me to walk away as though I was alleviating myself of someproblem?”
“Because it is a problem. It isn’tright.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s not fair toyou. But whether you like it or not, I fell inlove.”
Art shook his head, his chin quivering. “I don’t want to be the one you spend the rest of your life caringfor.”
“Art Cromley, we’re two old geezers. Do you think I wanted to marry you because I thought we would have this easy time and we weren’t going to be leaning on each other until the end? I want to take care of you for the rest of your life, for the rest of my life. I’ve been married once before, and I didn’t know what ‘in sickness and in health’ meant then, but I do now. Something like this was bound to happen, and if it had happened to me, when I told you, what would you havesaid?”
“It’s not thesame.”
