“Oh, do you need to get back to them? I can call another time?—”
“No, no, Gem. They’re asleep. Talk to me.” The last sentence she says without any of her usual chutzpah. If her friend is in the hospital, she probably needs a pick-me-up.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “They’re not doing well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s hard getting old. Watching your friends die. In my head, I’m still twenty-five. Then I look in the mirror and I get a jump scare. I can’t walk without my entire body aching. And these drugs they make me take—Lord.”
“That—sucks,” I say, for lack of anything better to offer.
“Is it bad that I considered opting out of treatment when they first diagnosed the recurrence?” Louise pauses. By the time I realize she’s looking for me to say something, she speaks again. “I didn’t go through with it. I take the drugs, I do the scans. But sometimes, I still wonder.”
I think about Eitan’s dad, and how hard it was for Eitan to watch him give up on treatment. “I’m glad you did the treatment. Are doing the treatment. I—” I clear the emotion from my throat. “I think it’s worth fighting for.”
“I do too,” she says quietly. “But enough about that. Talk to me about you. What do you want?”
“Want? Like, right now?”
“What do youwant? Cosmically speaking.”
“Cosmically?” I knead into my forehead. “I’m not sure…to feel like myself again?”
“What do you feel like now?”
“Some broken, damaged version of myself.”
“But that’s who you are. You have to take it all or nothing. You don’t get any second chances.”
I yank at a lock of hair. “Yeah,” I mutter.
“What about your bucket list? Have you made any progress on that?”
“I thought bucket lists were for chumps.”
Louise pffts. “You caught me on an off day. I still believe in bucket lists. It’s aboutwanting. If you don’t dream of anything, you’re truly dead. If I keep dreaming, I keep living.”
My mind veers, unavoidably, to Eitan. His body in Lake Michigan. His hands twirling me. His palm on my cheek.
“I want to be kissed. I want someone who takes care of me. I want an orgasm not made of silicone.”
Louise wheezes with laughter on the other end of the line.
“Was that too much?” I wince.
“No, that was perfect.”
“What about you? Northern lights, right?” I ask.
Louise tuts. “I’m accepting that one might be out of reach. But this wedding is a bucket list item.”
“Really? Why?”
“It’s silly, but I thought spending time with Penelope and Calliope would help me feel closer to Alfie.”
There’s so much hanging in her words, so much love and longing.
