Thrive (15 page)

Infinity. Did I really believe in it, or was I looking for something, clawing at anything that offered us light at the end of the tunnel? I didn’t know. For me, there was no light. How would there ever be a way out of this? I had no idea what our happy ever after looked like, or if we even had a chance of finding one.

I had to rely on infinity – that there was something beyond this miserable existence; this game of cat and mouse, fear and unknown factors that would ruin everything.

If I didn’t envision infinity?

All I saw was death. Death and the bars of what would be a lifelong home. A life sentence with no parole for both parties…only I had no idea which party we were part of.

I only knew we’d go down holding hands and clutching onto the madness that kept us alive. For now.

~Curtis~

“I’m not going.”

We were in Geoff’s office in the gym and he had his backside planted to his chair, with stubbornness set on his stubbly, tired face. Geoff had just refused to go to the consultant appointment with Curtis.

“Geoff,” Curtis sighed and began pacing the office with his hands locked at the back of his neck. “We can make you better. Why won't you consider this?”

“There’s nothin’ to consider, son.” He coughed into his hand and winced in pain. Curtis missed the simple display, too lost in his frustration to pay attention, but I caught it.

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” I asked, taking the seat opposite. “We’re too late, aren’t we?”

Geoff nodded, his eyes looking straight through me, as if he knew me. We’d explained who I was and Geoff wasn’t surprised to discover I was Oliver’s sister. I think, deep down, he knew all along.

“You’re just like ‘i'm,” he said, leaning forward to squeeze my hand. “This one-” he tipped his head toward Curtis, “-storms in with his fists up ready to fight. But you’re like Ollie. ‘E always looked beyond what ‘e saw.”

“I know.” I nodded, setting my hand over his and running my thumb over his paper-thin skin, the veins raised from the recent use of a cannula.

“You’re like yin and yang, you two.” He looked at me, but nodded towards a rapidly pacing Curtis.

I smiled tightly. I wasn’t the only perceptive one in the room.

“What are you talking about?” Curtis bit. “We’re talking about you and your treatment.”

“Curtis,” I chastised and the power switched. He was listening to me now and I turned to a stunned Geoff. “He’s tame. Explain it to him.”

“It’s done, son.” His voice squeaked as he looked at Curtis. “It’s over.”

“You’re giving up?”

Geoff shook his head. “There are some fights you just can't win.”

“Geoff, you can't give up. You’re a fighter, for fuck’s sake. If it means nothing physically, it has to mean something mentally.”

“I’ve been fightin’, Curtis.” He tried to clear his throat, but a hacking cough caught and he spun his chair away from us to grab a bucket.

I tried to pass a look of comfort to Curtis, but he was watching Geoff and working his fists by his sides. My heart broke for him, like it had done multiple times over the past few days, and for the last ten years. He was a lost little boy, afraid of losing the only father he’d ever known, and he was powerless to stop it.

“I’ve been fighting,” Geoff continued, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief and continuing like nothing had happened. “Since I was fourteen. I’ve been fighting for sixty two years. It’s time, Curtis.”

“No!” Curtis screamed and pulled at his hair. “No, Geoff. I won't let you do this.”

He turned around and threw the door open, knocking trophies and framed newspaper articles to the floor as he left.

“It’s okay,” I said to Geoff. “He just doesn’t understand what’s happening.”

“But you do.”

“I understand when it’s time to let go.”

I had to do it with Oliver, I’d had to do it with Thomas. I’d had to do it for myself.

“You’ll talk to ‘im? Make him understand?” I nodded. “I’m scared to leave ‘im.”

“I know.” I took his hand and passed him his glass of water. “I’ll take care of him.”

“I believe you sweet’art.”

“Will you negotiate a compromise with me?”

He nodded, with a glint of cheekiness in the grey eyes that were fixed on me. “I consider myself a reasonable man.”

He winked and I shook my head with a smile.

“What do you think of getting out of the city?”

His eyes lit up and his smile spread. “I could say goodbye to the city easily.”

Curtis was leaning against the side of the car with his head in his hands when I found him. I hooked my fingers into the pockets of his jeans; a small comfort, but one he accepted.

“It’s spread, baby. Lung cancer is dangerous because there are so few symptoms in the early stages.” He shuddered, but I continued. He had to know the facts. “The cancer has spread to his lymph nodes and liver. He’s been for tests, he’s asked for second and third opinions – for you.”

“For me?”

“He doesn’t want to leave you.”

“But-”

“He’s tired, Curtis. You have to let him know it’s okay to sleep now. That you’ve got this. That he’s taught you to be strong without him.”

“I can't, Skye.” His voice broke and when he dropped his hands, I saw the tears. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes, you are. You’re Cut Throat Curtis because of Geoff.” I raised my hands to rub the tops of his arms. “He’s agreed to something, but only with your permission. He’ll hold on until you’re ready to let him go.”

I caught a tear from his cheek as it fell. “I’m not ready.”

“He’ll suffer until you are.”

Curtis dropped his gaze and swiped at his face as he stepped away from the car – away from me.

“What has he agreed to?”

“He’s going to move into my house. He’ll have a garden he can watch the sunrise in. There’s a lake nearby and it’s a small town. A couple of shops, a post office and a market in the town square on Sundays. We can get him out of the city, make him comfortable and let him rest somewhere quiet. There are spare rooms so we can go and stay with him and begin our happy ever after with Geoff.” I stopped him and held his face in my hands, making him look at me and listen. “He’s agreed to let you find and pay for the best end of life care there is.”

***

I drove us back to Curtis’ apartment and called Angelica on the way to ask her to call the hospital and apologise for us missing our appointment. Curtis stared out of the windscreen in a statue-like state and there was nothing I could say or do that would ease his pain.

“What do you want to do?” I asked when we got out of the car and stepped into the lift.

“Sleep. I want to go to sleep and never wake up.”

All I could do was take hold of his hand and stay with him.

Curtis didn’t move all day. He didn’t drink the cups of tea I made him and he refused my offers of food.

Darkness fell and we’d sat in the same spot for hours, Curtis on the sofa staring out at the city, and I was curled up on the other end with his iPad, facing him so I could peer over the screen and check he was still blinking, breathing and conscious. Not one readable expression had crossed his face and I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. For the first time since we found each other – since he found me – I couldn’t read him; I couldn’t take his pain away because I had no idea how it felt. I didn’t get to anticipate the deaths of Oliver and Thomas. One second they were here and the next, they were gone. I didn’t know how it felt to know death was coming – to be able to plan for it, but not stop it. I had no idea how Curtis was feeling and he’d shut down, refusing to drop the veil that would allow me to share his agony.

“Do you want to go out?” he asked, reaching for the glass of water I’d brought him hours ago.

He still wasn’t looking at me when I looked up from searching everything I could find on the Kennedy family, set the iPad down and slid closer to him.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Go and get changed,” was the answer I got.

I stood up from the sofa, looking over my shoulder at Curtis as I moved through the apartment to the bedroom. He was staring back and I knew he was wondering if I was going to leave him, too.

Not a chance in Hell.

A line of five tumblers sat in front of Curtis and I was still nursing my first drink. He’d taken us to a bar in Soho and we were in a corner in the back, shrouded in darkness and hidden from the rest of the bar as jazz music filled the room. Curtis hadn’t said much; he asked how I was, if my drink was how I liked it, and if I wanted anything, but any attempts from me to continue conversation were squashed.

“Don’t you have friends you can go out with?” he asked, clicking his fingers at a passing server and pointing at his empty glass.

“You want me to go?”

“Answer the question.”

“Sure, I have friends.”

“And yet here you are, sitting with me and a half empty drink that’s now warm.”

“I’m not a big drinker.” I said, ordering another one anyway, as the server returned with a new glass for Curtis.

“You’re here because you want to be, right?”

“Yes.” I tried to take his hand, but he moved away.

“Not because you pity me?”

“No. I’m just here for you. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

“And what’s that?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know, and if Curtis didn’t, either? We had bigger problems than we’d already acknowledged.

“Forget what I said about infinity,” he said, spinning his glass in its puddle on the table and rubbing away the condensation.

“Why?”

“Geoff’s going to die. He’s never been married. Doesn’t even have a story about a feisty childhood sweetheart. He never had kids. He has no family. He has no one to spend infinity with.”

“You’re contradicting your own explanation of what love is.”

“Don’t be smart,” he sniped.

“I’m not. You said love is everything. You said you can love more than one person in more than one way. Everyone has an infinity.”

“Geoff doesn’t have anyone. If I hadn’t treated him like I did, he wouldn’t have been dying alone in that office.”

He tossed back half his drink and laid his head against the back of the velvet booth we were hidden in.

“He has you.”

“That’s different.” He breathed out heavily before he finished his drink and drew in a gasp.

“No, it’s not. He loves you like a son and you love him like a father. He’s taught you who you are now. Yes, that may be questionable, on the outside, right now, but on the inside you’re different and you know it. You’re a good man, Curtis. That’s what matters and that is what Geoff has given you.” He shook his head, refusing to believe what I knew he knew already, no matter how long it took him to admit it. “He did teach you to be a great man. What do you think you’d be doing now if Geoff had never loved you like you needed?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re Geoff’s infinity. You have to make sure he dies knowing you love him enough to let him go.”

“Get up,” he said with an unexpected aggression tainting his voice.

“What?”

“Get up.” He pointed across the bar to a closed door at the other end. “And go in there.”

“Why?”

“Just do it, Skye. You want me to trust what you say is true?”

My eyebrows shot up. “Yes.”

“Then get up and go in that room.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought it through. Angry that he’d challenged my opinion and planned on using it to make me prove myself to him, I knew I didn’t really have a choice. If I didn’t do as he asked? He’d slip back into the slump of thinking Geoff would leave this world without love, and I refused to let him convince himself of that. I nodded once and rose to my feet, scanning the bar as I crossed it. I stopped at the door marked
Angels – Private Access
and twisted the handle. As the door opened, Curtis collided with me and we bundled into the room; I heard the slamming and locking of the door as I fell to the floor and turned to find him.

“What is this?” I asked, looking around the red-tinted room as a slow RnB song played softly in the background.

“There’s a strip club upstairs. It does better for business than this bar with the back door we came in through the only sign it exists. So Angels have started extending down here.”

“Okay…”

I attempted to get to my feet, but one hand on my shoulder kept me down.

“Stay on the floor, baby.” Curtis stepped past me and sat on the armchair near where I sat on the floor. “Come here, Skillet.” He beckoned me towards him and opened his legs. “Come and kneel in front of me.”

I crawled across the space that separated us and kneeled up with my hands on his knees.