I sit in the chair next to her recliner and she reaches for my hand. I lay my head on her chest and listen to her rattling breath as she plays with my hair. We sit there for an indecipherable amount of time, just enjoying each other’s presence.
Throughout her entire diagnosis—her entire life, really—she’s remained so positive. So much so that if you didn’t know her, you would never guess the horrible shit she’s been through. I crane my neck to look up at her, memorizing her face. “How do you do it?”
Her eyes remain closed. “Do what, sweetheart?”
“How do you stay so optimistic in the face of uncertainty?”
“Death is theonlycertainty, Maverick.”
I squeeze her hand. “You know what I mean.”
She ponders for a moment. “It helps to zoom out. I’m just one person among billions, and I’ve been incredibly blessed to have everything I could possibly need.”
“But if you could choose not to be sick, would you?”
She finally opens her eyes and looks down at me, tears lining her lower lids. “Of course I would. I’d never willingly leave you and your father.” She wipes a tear that’s dripping down my cheek. “But I can take comfort in knowing your dad and I raised you to be a man who understands right from wrong. A man who will stand up for those beliefs, even when others don’t.”
We’ve discussed the changes happening in the world at great length, staying up late into the night to talk through the negative implications of what the Brotherhood is trying to accomplish. A bill was even proposed recently that would revoke women’s right to serve in the military, and Mom wrote a strongly worded letter to our local representative urging them to vote against the bill. If she was healthy, she probably would’ve flown to the capital and organized a protest or something, then demanded to speak with the president himself.
“I’m just one person,” I argue.
“One person can always make a difference for someone.” She leans down and kisses my head, just as I had done to her.
She passes a few hours later in her sleep.
???
The funeral is small. Just a few family members and some close friends crowded into our living room. She wanted to be cremated instead of buried, so Dad and I spread her ashes at her favorite place a few days ago—the coast where we took vacations when I was a kid.Mom and I used to walk for hours along the shoreline looking for shells and marine life, so I moved the mason jar that houses our collection of rocks, shells, and sea glass from all those trips to the windowsill above the sink in the kitchen. Now, every time I do dishes or get a drink of water, I think of those good memories and remember when she was healthy instead of how much she suffered.
My best friend since kindergarten comes up to me and shakes my hand, pulling me in for a quick hug. He thumps me on the back twice before leaning back. “Sorry for your loss, man.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
Gabe and I met when we were five and have practically been inseparable since. From t-ball, to awkward middle school years, to getting our driver’s licenses and playing on the varsity football team together, he’s the person I’ve spent the most time with in my life, aside from my parents. He’s like the brother I never had.
But lately, we haven’t spent much time together. Aside from normal senior year busyness and my mom being sick, he’s started following the Brotherhood almost religiously, and it’s made things tense between us. It’s all he ever wants to talk about, even though he knows I’m not a fan of their doctrine.
“Still planning on going to school in the fall?” he asks, taking a sip from his can of Coke.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maddie and I have been talking about taking a gap year to travel.”
Gabriel scoffs, shaking his head. “You can’t make decisions based on your current girlfriend’s stupid dreams, man.”
This isn’t the first time he’s mentioned Maddie being a negative influence on me. “It’s not stupid to travel and learn about other cultures.”
He holds up his hands. “All I’m saying is women are fickle, dude. She’ll probably change her mind before then anyway.”
I swallow my frustration. “We’ve made some pretty concrete plans. Not that they concern you.”
“You can’t throw away your entire future for some average pussy, bro.”
I step into his space. Gabe’s tall, but I’ve always been taller. I’ve probably got about twenty pounds on him, too. “Don’t talk about Maddie like that.”
He’s undeterred by my warning. “She’s not marriage material, man. It’s fine to whore around, but she’s not the woman you want as the mother of your children.”
“Who said anything about marriage or children?” I step back, shaking my head. “You need to lay off social media, bro.”
Gabe steps into my space now, a fanatical look in his eyes. “The Brotherhood isn’t just a social movement, Maverick. It’s a way of life.”
