My hand goes to Esben’s leg, and I dig my fingers in.
Steffi holds up a finger, asking us to give her a minute. I nod and rest my hand on her shoulder, letting her know that she can take as much time as she needs. The nervous look she gives Jamie frightens me to the core, but I keep a calm expression. As though it’s normal for my best friend, my lifeline, to need help breathing.
It only takes a matter of seconds, a few moments to inhale and exhale, and Steffi nods. She lifts the mask for a second. “Show me more.”
Esben seems cautious when I say, “Show her the flight attendant. The singing.”
“Yeah? Okay. You sure?”
“Yes. She’ll love it.” Steffi and I both know that she’s dying. That it’s close. And this song and its haunting melody will not make her aware of anything she doesn’t know.
Steffi puts the oxygen mask back over her mouth and watches. Halfway through, she holds out her arm. I take her hand. I won’t let go from this point on. Whatever high she’s been on, whatever adrenaline was amping her up, is gone.
We are downhill from here.
“‘Amazing Grace.’ I love...that song. Such a pretty voice.” Steffi’s words are barely audible behind her mask, but, still, I hear her. “All those nice people.”
“Everyone cares about you,” I tell her.
She turns her head, and I can see the smile around her eyes.
“Get ready for this one,” I say with as much fun in my voice as I can. “You will never believe it. Trust me. Esben, show her what happened getting from O’Hare to Midway!”
For a few minutes, Steffi watches, though her eyes are getting foggy. It’s subtle, so subtle, but I see it.
“A motorcycle? You got on a motorcycle?” She lifts the mask to talk.
“I know, right? So cool.” More false positive attitude. “It was insane.”
“Allison handled herself much better than I did,” Esben adds.
Steffi puts her other hand in his and takes a few deep breaths. Then she lowers the mask and speaks to him. “Esben?”
“Yes?”
“You love her?” she asks.
Esben smiles reassuringly. “I do.”
“I knew that. But it’s good to hear. Good.” She breathes again for a time. “Thank you. Thank you. It...it...makes this easier. Allison?” she whispers.
“Yes, honey, what?”
“It hurts. God save the queen, it hurts.” She’d smile if she could, but she can’t.
“God save the queen,” I agree. “God save the queen.”
“I’m, uh...” She shuts her eyes for a second. “I’m ready for this to be over. I’m really ready.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry. For what I did.”
“There’s no sorry here, only love.”
She nods.
I don’t know how to tell her what I have to. But it’s time. “There are a few other people here to see you,” I say gently.
