The Ending I Want
Page 108
I figured that as well.
“It doesn’t matter to me.”
“But I like my pink hair.”
“When it grows back, you can dye it pink again.”
“Hmm. I guess.”
Silence.
“Hunter…are you sure it won’t bother you if I’m bald?”
“If losing your hair means you get better and I get to have a lifetime with you, then, yeah, babe, I’m sure.”
“But I have a weird-shaped head.”
“So, I’ll buy you a head scarf.”
She laughs softly, lightly slapping me on the stomach. “Ass.”
“And you love me for it.” I chuckle.
“True.”
“Now, quit stalling, and get some sleep, Boston.”
“So bossy, Hunter.”
“You love that about me as well.”
She’s silent for a long moment. I look down and see her eyes are closed.
She looks so beautiful. She will always be beautiful to me, no matter what.
Closing my own eyes, I rest my head back into the pillow.
“Hunter?” she murmurs, her voice sounding sleepy.
“Mmhmm?”
“I love everything about you. Even your airplanes.”
A smile pushes at my lips as tears prick my eyes at the same time. “And I love everything about you, Boston.”
“If I should die and leave you
Be not like the others, quick undone
Who keep long vigils by the silent
dust and weep.
“For my sake turn to life and smile
Nerving thy heart and trembling
hand to comfort weaker souls than thee.
Complete these unfinished tasks of mine
And I perchance may therein comfort thee.”
Reverend Gray gently closes the sermon book in his hand, looking out over the church.
“Now, let us end the service with the Lord’s Prayer.” He bows his head and begins praying, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”
I stare at the coffin on its stand behind where Reverend Gray is reciting the prayer.
There’s heaviness in my heart. A sadness in my soul.
It hurts.
I let my eyes down, my head bowing, as I join in the prayer.
Then, I feel a hand curl around mine, and it soothes the sadness away.
My eyes lift, meeting with a set of beautiful blue eyes.
The only eyes I ever want to look into.
Taylor smiles softly at me. Her eyes mirror my sadness. Her precious head is covered with a black headscarf to hide the hair loss that bothers her so much. It doesn’t bother me because that gone hair means that she’s still here. Solid and breathing.
She fought that brain tumor like a motherfucker. Sorry, God. But she did, and she won.
We got the all-clear two weeks ago. We’re not out of the woods completely. She has another checkup in another six months, but for now, the tumor is gone, and my girl is on the mend.
Months of radiation therapy, watching it wreck her body while healing her brain…was hard. But she did it, and she’s here.
I just hate that we’re here now. That we’ve lost someone else whom we love.
Archie suddenly passed away a week to the day after we had gotten the all-clear on Taylor. He’d had a stroke. It had come out of nowhere and taken him with it.
“For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen,” Reverend Gray ends the prayer.
I gently squeeze Taylor’s hand, and then I turn to my grandpa, who is standing beside me. He’s been affected by Archie’s passing the most.
Archie might have been his employee for the better part of twenty-five years, but he was my grandpa’s friend more.
I press my hand to his shoulder. “You doing okay, Grandpa?” I ask quietly.
He meets my eyes and nods.
The service over, we exit the church. Grandpa is the first to leave. We were the only family Archie had. He was married many years ago, but he lost his wife young, like Grandpa did with my grandma. Archie didn’t have any children. So, we were his family.
As I hold Taylor’s hand, we follow behind my grandpa, walking down the aisle.
“I’m just going to thank Reverend Gray for the service,” Grandpa tells me, stopping by the door.
“We’ll wait in the car for you.”
Taylor and I walk out into the warm sunshine.
“Thanks for coming with me today,” I say to her as we leave the churchyard, heading for the car.
She nudges my arm with her shoulder. “Don’t thank me. I loved Archie, too, you know.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I know, babe.”
After Taylor’s surgery and recovery, once she was out of the hospital, we decided it would be best if we moved into Hunter Hall. I still had to work. Owning a company sadly doesn’t mean I get to have forever off. I didn’t want Taylor at the apartment, alone, during the day, and she needed care after the radiation therapy. We discussed hiring a nurse, but Grandpa said she needed to be with family. So, we moved into Hunter Hall, and Grandpa and Archie took care of her.
Losing Archie has been a shock of the worst kind. I’d known him since I was a kid. His stroke and subsequent passing took us by surprise, and it’s been especially hard for Grandpa.
But I’m starting to realize that death is as much a part of life as living is.
So long as I don’t lose Taylor or Grandpa anytime soon, I can handle it.
We had planned to move back to my—our—apartment in London once Taylor’s radiation therapy had come to an end. But, now, with Archie gone, we’ve decided to stay at Hunter Hall for the foreseeable future. I don’t want Grandpa to be alone, and neither does Taylor. And, honestly, Hunter Hall is the only place that’s ever really felt like home for me.
“It doesn’t matter to me.”
“But I like my pink hair.”
“When it grows back, you can dye it pink again.”
“Hmm. I guess.”
Silence.
“Hunter…are you sure it won’t bother you if I’m bald?”
“If losing your hair means you get better and I get to have a lifetime with you, then, yeah, babe, I’m sure.”
“But I have a weird-shaped head.”
“So, I’ll buy you a head scarf.”
She laughs softly, lightly slapping me on the stomach. “Ass.”
“And you love me for it.” I chuckle.
“True.”
“Now, quit stalling, and get some sleep, Boston.”
“So bossy, Hunter.”
“You love that about me as well.”
She’s silent for a long moment. I look down and see her eyes are closed.
She looks so beautiful. She will always be beautiful to me, no matter what.
Closing my own eyes, I rest my head back into the pillow.
“Hunter?” she murmurs, her voice sounding sleepy.
“Mmhmm?”
“I love everything about you. Even your airplanes.”
A smile pushes at my lips as tears prick my eyes at the same time. “And I love everything about you, Boston.”
“If I should die and leave you
Be not like the others, quick undone
Who keep long vigils by the silent
dust and weep.
“For my sake turn to life and smile
Nerving thy heart and trembling
hand to comfort weaker souls than thee.
Complete these unfinished tasks of mine
And I perchance may therein comfort thee.”
Reverend Gray gently closes the sermon book in his hand, looking out over the church.
“Now, let us end the service with the Lord’s Prayer.” He bows his head and begins praying, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”
I stare at the coffin on its stand behind where Reverend Gray is reciting the prayer.
There’s heaviness in my heart. A sadness in my soul.
It hurts.
I let my eyes down, my head bowing, as I join in the prayer.
Then, I feel a hand curl around mine, and it soothes the sadness away.
My eyes lift, meeting with a set of beautiful blue eyes.
The only eyes I ever want to look into.
Taylor smiles softly at me. Her eyes mirror my sadness. Her precious head is covered with a black headscarf to hide the hair loss that bothers her so much. It doesn’t bother me because that gone hair means that she’s still here. Solid and breathing.
She fought that brain tumor like a motherfucker. Sorry, God. But she did, and she won.
We got the all-clear two weeks ago. We’re not out of the woods completely. She has another checkup in another six months, but for now, the tumor is gone, and my girl is on the mend.
Months of radiation therapy, watching it wreck her body while healing her brain…was hard. But she did it, and she’s here.
I just hate that we’re here now. That we’ve lost someone else whom we love.
Archie suddenly passed away a week to the day after we had gotten the all-clear on Taylor. He’d had a stroke. It had come out of nowhere and taken him with it.
“For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen,” Reverend Gray ends the prayer.
I gently squeeze Taylor’s hand, and then I turn to my grandpa, who is standing beside me. He’s been affected by Archie’s passing the most.
Archie might have been his employee for the better part of twenty-five years, but he was my grandpa’s friend more.
I press my hand to his shoulder. “You doing okay, Grandpa?” I ask quietly.
He meets my eyes and nods.
The service over, we exit the church. Grandpa is the first to leave. We were the only family Archie had. He was married many years ago, but he lost his wife young, like Grandpa did with my grandma. Archie didn’t have any children. So, we were his family.
As I hold Taylor’s hand, we follow behind my grandpa, walking down the aisle.
“I’m just going to thank Reverend Gray for the service,” Grandpa tells me, stopping by the door.
“We’ll wait in the car for you.”
Taylor and I walk out into the warm sunshine.
“Thanks for coming with me today,” I say to her as we leave the churchyard, heading for the car.
She nudges my arm with her shoulder. “Don’t thank me. I loved Archie, too, you know.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I know, babe.”
After Taylor’s surgery and recovery, once she was out of the hospital, we decided it would be best if we moved into Hunter Hall. I still had to work. Owning a company sadly doesn’t mean I get to have forever off. I didn’t want Taylor at the apartment, alone, during the day, and she needed care after the radiation therapy. We discussed hiring a nurse, but Grandpa said she needed to be with family. So, we moved into Hunter Hall, and Grandpa and Archie took care of her.
Losing Archie has been a shock of the worst kind. I’d known him since I was a kid. His stroke and subsequent passing took us by surprise, and it’s been especially hard for Grandpa.
But I’m starting to realize that death is as much a part of life as living is.
So long as I don’t lose Taylor or Grandpa anytime soon, I can handle it.
We had planned to move back to my—our—apartment in London once Taylor’s radiation therapy had come to an end. But, now, with Archie gone, we’ve decided to stay at Hunter Hall for the foreseeable future. I don’t want Grandpa to be alone, and neither does Taylor. And, honestly, Hunter Hall is the only place that’s ever really felt like home for me.
