A Fragile Fortress

A few days later, Tad found himself living in the sunny guest bedroom of Coach’s comfortable suburban house. The walls were decorated with several cross stitch samplers made by DeDe and the bed was covered with a colorful quilt she had pieced together. His shirts shared closet space with the family’s off-season clothing and one of the three dresser drawers held several embroidered tablecloths. But the desk had plenty of space for studying and the small tv that sat in the corner was connected to cable, which gave Tad access to a multitude of sports channels. Coach also had made sure that Tad had a designated area in the basement where he could work on the exercises his therapist prescribed for him. Coach had even borrowed some special equipment from the university for Tad to use in his rehabilitation.  Despite still feeling angry at the world and its betrayal, Tad began to see beyond his own feelings and recognized Coach’s hurting family needed him more.

Within a week of settling in, Tad was learning his way around DeDe’s cozy kitchen. Despite his lame attempt to convince her of the value of canned spaghetti, DeDe showed him the family’s favorite recipes and guided him through their simple preparation processes.  They laughed and joked as Tad learned to appreciate the difference between hand grated cheese for tacos compared to packaged shredded cheese. She teased Tad about his good looks, greatly enhanced by one of her duck themed aprons over his worn jeans, while he raved about her culinary creations.  The song, “Hey, Good Lookin”, came up on the radio one day while the two were making an easy enchilada casserole. A quick two-step, followed by a bow and curtsey between them launched the running gag. When Tad became sulky or difficult, DeDe had a way of charming him out of his dark mood and into helping Justin with his homework or into helping her with some small home  project.

As Tad became more immersed in the family, he began accompanying DeDe and Coach to Justin’s soccer games. He  realized that, despite being ill, DeDe possessed an infectious enthusiasm. Her cheering and yelling carried across the field, leading other players’ parents to do the same. Sitting next to DeDe in a lawn chair, Tad found himself scouting out and assessing the other teams’ weaknesses and strengths.  At halftime, he would jog across the field to whisper hints and strategies into Justin’s ear. Justin became a star on the soccer field and Tad became a hero and big brother to the young boy.  Finding some peace after his crushing disappointment, Tad settled into the family routine, thankful to be a part of it.

But then, a few months into his new living arrangement, things began to fall apart.  The drugs that Coach and DeDe had put hopes in were found to be ineffective. The cancer, once in remission, was now spreading rapidly, invading DeDe’s spine and other organs while DeDe and Coach’s options were dwindling. One evening, DeDe and Coach sat Tad down at the kitchen table and told him that DeDe was going into a clinical study.

“I thought you were looking into an immunotherapy program,” questioned Tad.

“We were hoping for that but it isn’t possible in DeDe’s case.  We also wanted to try a different treatment, but that was also a no-go.  Basically, this is our last option,” replied Coach.

“What do you mean by that?”  A stunned Tad looked at the couple.

DeDe took Tad’s hand.  “It’s just nobody knows what will happen.  It might work for me or it might not.  A clinical study makes me a test case.  This new protocol could turn out to be great and save me but it also could be a failure. I would prefer to have other options but that’s just not the case. Nothing else is working.”

“But you’ll still get better, right?” demanded Tad.”And if this doesn’t work, they’ll give you something else?”

“I’m going to give it my best shot.” DeDe’s responding smile seemed weak and forced.

Tad thought for a minute, then straightened up and squared his shoulders.  “Okay.  What do you need me to do? Cuz we’re gonna kick this cancer’s ass to the curb.”

DeDe rolled her eyes.  “Well, first, you can’t talk like that around Justin.  Second, I’m going to assign you the task of keeping up the house when I can’t.  But mostly, I want you to stay close to Justin.”

“I can do that.  What else?”

“That’s all,” said DeDe.

“Can I take you to your doctor appointments or stuff like that?”

“If we need that,” said Coach, “we would certainly appreciate it. But right now, I can get her to her appointments.”

“Okay,” Tad nodded.  “But we’re a team here and this team is a winning team.”

DeDe grabbed his hand and smiled.  “I like the way you think, Tad. Let’s do this!”

DeDe immediately started her new therapy treatment,  It made her very sick, which necessitated a short hospital stay each time she received a treatment. thowing her system into complete chaos and causing  challenging side effects that DeDe wasn’t able to combat by herself. Thus,  a short hospital stay occurred each time she received a treatment.

Back at the family home, Tad completely took over the kitchen and the meal preparations.  Each afternoon, he studied the easy recipes DeDe had earmarked for him then prepared the meal, trying to mimic DeDe’s motions as he pictured them in his mind. In between the various steps of preparation, Tad would sit at the kitchen table with Justin where the two of them focused on their homework.  One day, Tad found Justin staring off into space, a sad look on his face.  Tad poked him.

“Tell you what, Justin,” he said.  “You get your math done and I’ll let you help with dinner.”

Justin frowned.  “That doesn’t sound like much of a deal.”

“You’re right.  So, you get your work done, I’ll get dinner set and then we can go outside and practice your soccer.  I’ll be the goalie.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You know, with your weak shoulder, it’s pretty easy to get a shot past you.”

“Oh, yeah?  Well, I’ve been doing my exercises so you just might be surprised.”

“Maybe,” teased Justin.  “But I doubt it. You’re useless without a mitt.”

“Ha ha.  We’ll see.”

Those afternoons were hard on Tad but he was proud that he was able to contribute to the household and ease Coach and DeDe’s load a bit. He offered to take Justin back and forth to his practices at the local middle school, spending Justin’s hour-long practice running the track that was adjacent to the soccer field.

But with each passing week, DeDe grew weaker and thinner. Despite the family meals Tad prepared, she ate sparingly.  Often whatever she ate would make her sick.  Even sips of water seemed difficult for her to swallow. Her optimism faded, leaving Tad in a panic. One day, Coach met Tad on campus and confided in the young man.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said as he swiped at his eyes.  “Nothing’s working for DeDe.  She’s suffering so much yet gaining nothing.  She’s been my life since we met in college.” Coach rubbed his hand together and continued.  “Yep, she was a cute little cheerleader who had this enormous crush on the college star baseball player.” He smiled sadly. “Who could resist her? So, we got married while she still had one year to go.  I coached at a local junior high, and taught a civics class,  so DeDe could get her degree. Then we moved so I could assist the head coach at a smaller university before ultimately coming here. And DeDe, she was happy no matter where we were.  Then one day she told me she was expecting.  I couldn’t wait to have my own little ball player. But you know DeDe.  She couldn’t resist teasing me that we might just have a boy that would excel in dance and become a major star on the stage.”  He shook his head. “She doesn’t know a stranger.  Everyone she meets is immediately a friend.   Hell, she’s a friend to everybody.” Coach hiccuped.  “She just needs to hang on till this treatment starts to work.”

Tad sat silently, not knowing what to say.  When he raised his eyes, he found Coach watching him intently.

“Look, Tad, I don’t know what happened to your parents but right now, I think you’re the perfect person to help out. Plus, Justin looks up to you. He’s going to need a shoulder to lean on and mine isn’t going to be strong enough. But I think yours is. Can I count on you?”

Tad nodded.

“You’ll probably understand his feelings better than anyone else because…” Coach gestured with his hand.

Again, Tad nodded, struggling to swallow the growing lump in his throat.

“If you can be there for Justin, I can be there for DeDe.”

“But what should I tell him if he starts asking questions?” panicked Tad.

Coach shrugged.  “Hell if I know. Just go with your gut.  And I know for a fact that you have pretty good instincts. I’ve watched you rely on them for two years.”

With that, Coach stood up and started trudging slowly across the campus, the early winter sun making long shadows along his path.  

When school let out for the holidays, Tad’s workload increased.  In addition to the meals and the house, Tad now had an anxious Justin to take care of.

“Tad,” demanded Justin.  “What are we doing today?  Can I go visit my Mom?”

Tad, sorting through a clothes basket of clean laundry, tossed a towel to Justin.  “I thought we’d play a game of folding laundry.”

“Ha! Ha! You’re so funny,  I forgot to laugh,” replied Justin who had folded the towel then reached for another one.  “But really, can I go see my Mom?  I want to show her the neat picture I painted in art class.”

Tad studied the young boy, who had the same dark hair and blue eyes as his mother.  But instead of curls, he had the thick coarse hair of his father. Tad could already see that Justin would take after his father in his stocky build and would probably make an excellent ball player and not a slim, delicate ballet dancer that DeDe had teased  about.  “I think you’re safe on that one, Coach,” he mumbled to himself.

“Huh?” questioned Justin.

Tad, yanked out of his memory, shook his head.  “Nothing.  Look, we’ll see what your Dad has to say about you visiting your Mom.  In the meantime, how about we put up the Christmas tree today?  Wouldn’t  your Mom love to see that when she gets home?”

Justin frowned.  “I guess so.  But which one?”

“Which one?  How many are there?”

Justin tilted his head and looked up at the ceiling. “She has five trees, all with different themes.”

“Five Christmas trees!  Is there one that’s just a typical family tree?”

Justin bobbed his head. “Yup.  But she’s pretty particular about  where we put certain ornaments.  But lucky for us, I know where she likes them.  So we should put up that tree.”

“Sounds like a plan.  Let’s do it.”

A few days later, after much consideration, Tad made a difficult phone call to his hometown.

“Spider,” he said when his brother answered the phone.

“Hey, Tad.  What’s up?  When are you coming home for Christmas?”  

“That’s why I called.  Um….I’m not coming home.”

“What do you mean?” asked Spider.

“Just what I said.”

“What?  Why?”

Tad hurried to explain, “Look, Coach and DeDe really need me. I mean, they really need me. And I just can’t leave them. And Justin would be lost without me. And if I came home, then I would just be sitting around in Sleepyside worrying about what was going on here.” Tad paused.  “I’ll be honest with you.  DeDe isn’t doing well.  She’s weak and nauseated and Justin’s scared and …” He stopped.

“I know it's a rough situation. Anything I can do?”

Tad shook his head.  “Not unless you can cure cancer.”

Spider sighed.  “No.”

“This is where I need to be, Spider.  You’ll be all right without me, won’t you?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Good. Oh, and by the way, thank you.”

“For what?” Spider sounded puzzled.

“For all you did for me after Mom and Dad died. I never really appreciated how hard it must have been for you.”

There was a lengthy silence. “Not a problem,” Spider cleared his throat.  “Hey Tad, even though I’ll miss you, I’m damn proud of you.”

Tad gulped.  “You are? Why?”

“Because you’ve taken on a task that most people would run from.”

“It was an honor to be asked to help out,” replied Tad shakily.

The two talked for a bit longer, then Tad said,

“I gotta go.  Justin needs my help on a science project he has to complete and I want to get to him before he starts playing any of his video games.”

“A science project, huh? As I recall, the only science you were interested in was….biology!  And not the kind in class,” chuckled Spider.

“Very funny.”

“But, I’ll let you go.  And we’ll definitely talk later.”

After hanging up, Tad sat on the edge of his bed.  His room was dim, like the fading, weak winter sun.  A shiver ran up his back when a cold draft wafted through the old window.  Sighing unhappily, he stood up and slid his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, knowing he had made the right decision and desperately wishing he could simply make all the sickness go away for his favorite family.

A few days after Christmas, a weakened DeDe was admitted again to the hospital, leaving Justin worried and frantic.  Several times a day he would question Tad about his mother and the outcome of her illness.  Tad was unable to answer the constant questions despite his intent to be honest with the boy. The two were tidying up the kitchen after lunch when Justin again launched into his queries.

“Did you talk to my Mom today?” he asked.

Tad shook his head.  “I tried but she didn’t answer her phone.”

“Call her again.”

“I just called her ten minutes ago. Let’s wait till dinner time.  She’ll definitely be awake then.”

When Tad finally connected with DeDe, he handed the phone to Justin.  He watched as the boy tried to lift his mother’s spirits by telling her the news from home, his ongoing school work, even the drills Tad had mapped out for him as a form of soccer practice.  Tad detected the desperation in Justin’s voice as he encouraged then begged his mother to eat and drink. Watching Justin’s desperate look when he told his mother goodbye tore at Tad’s heart.

“Tad?” Justin pushed Tad’s phone across the table.

“Yeah?”

“How old were you when your mother died?”

Tad scratched his head. “I was about your age, maybe a bit younger.”

“Did it make you sad?”

Tad inhaled deeply, dreading the painful discussion. “Very.  Why?”

Justin picked at his thumbnail.  “Because I don’t think my Mom is going to make it.  She’s so weak now and doesn’t eat or drink.”

Tad, needing some time to gather his thoughts,  went to the sink and got a glass of water.  Before sitting back at the table, he stopped and  grabbed a bag of potato chips.  

“You know, Justin, you never can tell about things like this.  She may be weak today but in a few days, she could be bouncing back.”

Justin grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed a few into his mouth, crunching them loudly.  “Maybe.  But Mom isn’t bouncing back anymore.  She did for a while but now she just seems to be fading away.  Don't you agree? And don’t lie to me.” Justin pointed his trembling finger accusingly at Tad.

Tad slowly put a potato chip into his mouth. With a hard swallow, he replied,

“Okay, I’ll be honest with you, Justin.  She is struggling a lot.  And there’s so much going on inside her body with the cancer.  I don’t know how she’s going to be in a few days.  But I’m definitely going to keep hoping that she does get better because as long as I’ve got hope, I’ve got something to hold on to.  How about you?”

Justin searched Tad’s eyes.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For being honest with me.  Sometimes my Dad treats me like I’m a baby or something. I just want to know what’s going on.  I’ll keep hoping but I think one day I’ll close my eyes for just a second and,” he snapped his fingers,  “she’ll be gone.”

Tad put his arm around Justin’s shoulder.  “Don’t think like that.  Just keep your thoughts positive and your hopes up.”

Justin nodded.  “It’s all we’ve got, right?”

Tad smiled.  “Well, that and a ton of medical stuff.”

“Right.” As Justin looked around the kitchen his eyes fell on the potted herbs that sat on the windowsill above the sink.  “Hey, I think I'll  water her houseplants.  She gets mad if they get dried out.  Would that be okay?”

“Sure.”

Tad watched as Justin filled the watering can, then exited the kitchen and started on his tour around the house.  “I hope I did the right thing,” he worried before getting up and completing the dinner preparations.

A few days later, DeDe came home from the hospital.  She was very weak and could barely make it from the car to the house.  When she got inside the front door, Coach assisted her to the couch where she collapsed in exhaustion.  He swung her legs up then tenderly covered her with an afghan. Justin ran to get an extra pillow.  While the two fussed over DeDe, Tad brought in her small suitcase and put it in her room.  By the time he got to the living room, DeDe had already drifted off.  Tad could see that she was terribly thin and that her skin was pale. Her once bouncy dark hair was reduced to thin strands that looked dull and lifeless. The energy that used to radiate from her body was also gone. For a minute, Tad felt the black hand of death grip his heart and it stopped him in his tracks. With a quick shake of his head, he resumed his course to the kitchen to see about fixing DeDe some kind of a snack or a smoothie that might perk her up a bit and make her feel stronger.

For the next two weeks, DeDe’s condition remained the same.  She was weak and had little interest in the food that Tad or Coach  prepared for her.   She slept a lot, sometimes fitfully, at other times so deeply it seemed  her chest barely moved as she breathed.  But there were also moments when she was alert and engaged with the family.  Tad tried to keep up with the house and the cooking so Coach and Justin could spend as much time with DeDe as possible.  As the scheduled appointment for her next treatment approached, DeDe became noticeably depressed. Tad had just put a packaged potato casserole into the oven when he heard DeDe groaning.  Wiping his hands quickly, he went into the living room where she lay on the couch, this time covered by a quilt she had made out of Justin’s old baby shirts.

“What’s wrong, DeDe?  Can I get you anything?” he asked anxiously.

DeDe ran her hand through her thin hair.  “No,” she answered listlessly.

“Would you like something to drink?  How about if I made you a milkshake?”

DeDe slowly shook her head back and forth.  “I appreciate all you do, Tad, even your milkshakes, which I know are really a can of Ensure with ice cream in it.  No, I just don’t know what to do about Monday?”

“Monday?” Tad knelt down on the floor next to her.

“I’m supposed to go in for another treatment.”  DeDe’s eyes met Tad’s.

“That’s right.”  Tad nodded his head.  “And I’m going to be right here taking care of Justin.”

DeDe sighed.  “I just don’t know if I can do it.  I’m so tired and I feel so bad.  Let’s be honest, Tad.  This is one battle I’m not going to win.  And I’m at peace with that.”

Tad swallowed hard.  “Don’t talk like that.  You know Justin and Coach would be lost without you.”

DeDe offered a weak smile.  “I know.  But they’ll survive. That’s the way they are.  I just hate that we’re all in this state of hopeless hope.”

Tad sat quietly for a minute, unsure of what to say.  He could hear DeDe’s soft breaths.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said decisively.  “We’re going to get through this weekend and concentrate on building you up.  Then you’ll make the decision on Sunday afternoon what you want to do.  But,” he added.  “You know, if you miss this treatment, you’ll be out of the program.”

DeDe motioned slightly.  “I know.  And I’m no quitter.   But I can see what’s happening and what’s not happening.” She ran her thin finger down the side of Tad’s face.  “But I think your idea is a good one.  Let’s see how I feel on Sunday.”

“That’s the way,” mumurred Tad.  He hoisted himself to his feet.

“Tad,” said DeDe as she reached out her hand toward his.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you make me one of your milkshakes.  I might as well get started now with trying to build myself up.  I hope I’ll be able to keep it down.”

Tad gave her two thumbs up.  “I’ll make the milkshake and bring you a bowl, just in case.”

He went into the kitchen where he quickly opened a small can of Ensure then put it into the blender with a scoop of ice cream.  He added a squirt of chocolate syrup and mixed it up.  After pouring it into a glass, he added a straw then grabbed a plastic bowl from the cupboard.  Returning to the living room, he helped DeDe into a more upright position then handed her the glass.  He watched as she took a few feeble sips of the drink, before handing it back to him.  He pulled a small table next to her where he sat the milkshake and the plastic bowl.

“Can I get you anything else?”

DeDe shook her head.  “No.  You’ve done enough already. I think I’ll just rest a bit before finishing my shake.”

Tad watched as DeDe’s eyes slowly fluttered then stayed closed.  He quietly returned to the kitchen where he sat at the table, his head in his hands, his heart breaking into a million pieces.

“Let the next few days be good,” he whispered as he cast a meaningful look upward.  “Just let them be good.”

By the end of the weekend, DeDe wasn’t much stronger.  She tried to sip at the milkshakes Tad made and picked at whatever food Coach brought her.  She slept a lot. Her complexion took on a gray cast and her eyes, lined with deep circles, showed her fatigue. Any extra movement caused intense pain so she remained on the couch during the day.  At night, she slept alone in her room while Coach, fearful of causing her any additional distress, took over her spot on the couch. Despite that, she had some good moments with the family, laughing or smiling when Justin told a funny story or when Coach tried to fix her up a pretty plate of food.

 After dinner on Sunday evening,  Coach and Justin went to work on Justin’s math.  Tad tidied the kitchen then went to DeDe.

“Do you want anything?” he asked.

“No,” she answered sadly.

“What’s wrong,” Tad pulled the ottoman over to the couch and sat down.

“I just don’t know if I can go through with another treatment tomorrow,” she said.

Tad sat silently.  Finally, he spoke.  “DeDe, if you don’t go, then you’ll be done with this treatment.  Is that what you want?”

DeDe’s eyes filled with tears.  “I’m just so, so tired, Tad.  I can’t eat or drink.  I’m in a lot of pain and the treatments aren’t working.  Besides, they make me feel even worse, if that’s possible.”

Tad leaned forward.  “DeDe, remember when I was almost done with my physical therapy and decided I didn’t need it anymore?”

She offered a weak nod.

“And you said to me…”  He paused, hoping DeDe could finish the story.

“And I told you that winners never quit and quitters never win.” DeDe pulled the afghan up around her neck.

“That’s right,” nodded Tad.  “And now I can say the same thing to you.”

“Mine’s different,” argued DeDe.

“Oh?” Tad lifted his brows.

“I’ve already lost.”  DeDe’s eyes met Tad’s, “while you had a whole future ahead of you.”

The room remained quiet except for the ticking of the old schoolhouse clock above the mantle and the murmur of voices that filtered out from Justin’s room.  

“Don’t say that,” whispered Tad.  “Please don’t say that.”

DeDe closed her eyes.  “I’m tired.  We can talk later.”

Tad watched as DeDe fell into an immediate deep sleep. He then went to his room where he changed into his running clothes.  Passing by Justin’s room, he told Coach he was going out for a while.  As he withdrew, he and Coach locked eyes.  Tad realized that Coach also knew what was really happening.  He left the house, gently closing the door  behind him.  With a deep inhalation of the crisp winter air, Tad took off, hoping to outrun his feelings of despair and pain.

The next morning, DeDe struggled to sit up when Tad brought her a glass of orange juice.

“Here you go, DeDe.” Tad held out the drink.

With shaking hands, DeDe grasped the straw and took a tiny sip.  A  slight push with her hand indicated she was done.

“I thought about what we discussed last night.  I’m going to have my treatment today,” she said.

Tad nodded, a slight grin appearing on his worried face.  “Good for you, DeDe.  And who knows, this just might be the one that makes you turn the corner.  Maybe the cancer will finally have had enough of you and give up.”

DeDe smiled weakly.  “Maybe.”

Tad hustled and got Justin out the door to school while Coach got DeDe ready to go.  It took both Coach and Tad several minutes to walk DeDe to the car.  After buckling her in, Tad watched as Coach carefully backed out of the driveway then disappeared down the street.  With a quick glance upward, Tad whispered a heartfelt prayer that this would be the time that the pieces would all come together and things would be all right for the family. He couldn’t help but add the prayer that lived deep in his heart:   he didn’t want to lose another mother.

Later that afternoon, Tad monitored Justin and his homework while putting together a quick tuna casserole for dinner. When Coach got home, he could see the strain showing in the man’s face.

“Dad,” cried Justin.  “How’s Mom?”

Coach took off his coat then sat down in his chair at the table.  “She’s asleep, Justin.  But she got her treatment.  She’s being given fluids right now because she’s so dehydrated.  Hopefully, that will make her feel better.”

“When is she coming home?” asked Justin.

“Oh, I suspect she’ll stay for a few days till they get everything stabilized then she’ll come back to us.”

“Maybe we should do something different this time.  Maybe throw her a party or something.”

Coach smiled.  “Maybe.  We’ll see.”  He reached out and gave Justin a quick hug, then got to his feet and disappeared down the hall.

Tad saw the disappointed look on Justin’s face.  “I think that’s a good idea, Justin. A party might be too much for her but we could get her some flowers to put around the living room and some for her bedroom?”

Justin’s face lit up.  “That’s a great idea, Tad.  And I know what Mom likes.”

“And what's that?”

“Purple irises.”

Tad frowned.  “Can we buy those from a florist?”

Justin made a face.  “Duh! You can buy anything from a florist.”

Tad and Justin fleshed out the details then Tad finished getting dinner on the table.  While they ate, Justin told his father of their plan.

“I think your mother would like that,” Coach replied.  “And you could throw in a few yellow roses.  She likes those too.”

“Got it,” nodded Justin.

The next morning, after Justin had gone to school, the phone rang.  Tad, tidying the kitchen, eavesdropped on Coach's end of the conversation.  He could tell Coach was talking to DeDe and hoped that she was telling him that she felt better, that this treatment had indeed done the trick and that she was ready for him to come get her.  But when Coach hung up the phone, Tad could tell that hadn't happened.  

“DeDe wants to talk to me,” said Coach as he came into the kitchen.

"What about?” Tad closed the dishwasher door and pushed the button to start it.

Coach shrugged.  “I don’t know.  But she can barely talk today, she’s so weak.   I had trouble hearing her.  She can’t even sit up. She said every single part of her body is in agonizing pain, including each strand of hair.  

Tad, tensed up.  “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. You just get to your own classes and we’ll catch up later.”

Coach gathered his wallet and keys then left the house.  Tad finished getting ready then left for the university where he again found himself unable to concentrate in his classes.  When he was done for the day, he hustled back to Coach’s house.  Surprisingly, Coach’s car was in the driveway when he got there.

“Hey, Coach,” called Tad as he entered the back door.  “How’s DeDe?”

Seeing Coach’s drained and pale face, Tad immediately knew he wasn’t going to like the answer to his question.  

“She wants us to come to the hospital as soon as Justin gets home from school,” answered Coach.

“Why don’t you just pick Justin up from school and save yourself some time?”

Coach shook his head.  “Let’s give him one more peaceful walk home.”  He motioned at Tad.  “She wants you there too.”

Tad’s eyes widened.  “Me? Why?  Wouldn’t I be a bigger help if I stayed here and got a few things done? I could wash the sheets onDeDe’s bed so it will be waiting for her when she comes home.”

Coach pointed a finger at Tad.  “Look. I brought you into this family and now you’re a part of it.  And if DeDe wants you there, then that’s where you’ll be.”

Tad nodded.  “Of course I’ll do whatever DeDe wants.”

Coach waved his hand dismissively.  “Sorry, Tad. Didn’t mean to rip your head off.”

Tad placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.  “I’ll be there.”

The hospital parking lot was growing dark when the three left that evening.  DeDe remained behind in her hospital room, weak and suffering.  Coach unlocked the car and the three climbed in.  After starting the engine, Coach paused.  

“Well?”

Tad shot a backward glance toward Justin who was  staring  vacantly out the window.   “I don’t know.”

“It’s her decision,” said Coach.

“I’m not sure there’s much of a decision to be made,” muttered Tad. “From what the doctor said, she doesn’t have much time.”

“After all she went through, to get to the point where the road just ends is so….so….so…”

Understanding Coach’s feelings, Tad nodded.  “Unfair. She deserves a happy ending. You all do.”

“I hate that she hurts so much,” Justin piped up from the back seat.  “But I don’t want to lose her either.  I just want her well again.”

“Me too, “ murmured Coach.

He put the car into gear and the group headed home to get DeDe’s room ready for hospice.

Two days later, DeDe came back home.  This time, instead of laying on the couch, Coach carried her to her room where a hospital bed was waiting.  Tad and Coach had worked late the previous night moving around the furniture to make room for the bed plus the additional hospital equipment DeDe now required.  Justin had made Tad take him to the flower shop where the two had purchased three bunches of irises and yellow roses.  Justin had divided them into several vases and placed them around the room so DeDe could see them wherever she looked.  Coach had covered the hospital bed with one of DeDe’s favorite  homemade quilts.  After getting DeDe settled and comfortable, they gathered around her.

"Thank you,” whispered DeDe as she looked up at the three.  She brought Coach’s hand to her cheek.  

“Thank you for what?” asked Coach gruffly.

“This is where I want to be.  I want to be in my home with my boys.”

Coach feigned indignation.  “I don’t consider myself a boy.”

DeDe smiled.  “You are when it comes to eating vegetables.  There’s only so much ranch dressing in the world with which to douse it,”

Coach smiled, his eyes glistening with his unshed tears.  “I suppose so.”

DeDe looked at Justin, then patted the bed beside her.  “Come here Justin.”

When he sat down on the edge, she pulled him down, letting him snuggle up beside her.  She stroked his hair.  “Do you know how many times you fell asleep in my arms when you were a baby?”

Justin shook his head.

DeDe smiled.  “I don’t know either, but it was the only way I could get a nap.”

A short time later, DeDe fell asleep.  Coach and Tad kept an eye on her while Justin sat at the kitchen table and picked at his lunch.  Whenever she was awake, Tad and Coach offered DeDe food and water but her response was always to shake her head and decline.  In the evening, a hospice nurse arrived to check on the patient. Seeing that DeDe was in good hands, Tad went to his room and collapsed on his bed where he fell into a deep, dark, dreamless sleep.  Waking abruptly in the middle of the night, he went to DeDe’s room where he found Coach asleep in the nearby chair.  He checked on Justin then went into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and studied the variety of drugs that now occupied one of the shelves where DeDe used to keep her treasured dark chocolate truffles.  Shutting the door, he noticed the schedule of meds the nurse had posted, marking off the ones DeDe had received that day. Tad pounded his fist against the list, then leaned his head against it while tears rolled down his face.

The next morning, DeDe could barely speak, she was so weak.  Justin stayed with her, reading aloud one of his favorite books that DeDe had read to him when he was a baby.  Tad kept refilling a water bottle and offering it to her.  He was encouraged when DeDe took a small sip, but knew in his heart it just wasn’t enough.  Coach wandered in and out, chatting with DeDe when she was awake and holding her hand when she was asleep.  Late in the day, Coach fell asleep on the living room couch and Justin was in his room.  Tad checked on DeDe and found her awake.

“Hey, good lookin,’”he said softly.

DeDe turned her head and smiled.  “Whatcha got cookin?’” Her eyes motioned to the chair next to her bed. “Sit with me.”

Tad grabbed the chair and scooted it close to DeDe.  “Can I get you anything?”

DeDe gave a negligible shake of her head.  “No.”

Tad took her hand.  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” whispered DeDe.  “It’s all up God now.”

Tad lowered his head so DeDe wouldn’t see the tears.  But he didn’t fool her.

“Hey,” she whispered.  “What’s with the tears?”

Tad swallowed hard.  “Nothing.”

“You can’t fool me, Tad.” DeDe’s voice was weak but sure.  “Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tad smiled.

“Oh, yeah. I remember a certain grumpy, sullen college boy who moved in here and thought he could get by with a flash of a smile and a can of Chef Boyardi ravioli.  LIttle did he know that a family, no matter how it’s defined, takes work.”

Tad nodded.

“But you, you were so stubborn,” she continued weakly. “You’d lost your dream of baseball and had no idea where to turn. You wanted to be all tough and hard, but you were scared. Actually, I think you’ve been scared and a bit lost since your parents died.” She coughed. “You were a big brat and kind of annoying.”  She paused and struggled to take a deep breath.  “David was so sure you would do good with us.  And he was right.  I can’t imagine how we would have gotten along without you. I also can’t remember our family without you.”

Tad shook his head.  “I didn’t do much.”

“But you did.  You’ve been a wonderful set of shoulders for Justin and Coach.  You've been a real blessing to this family.”  She smiled as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.  “I’m so proud to call you a member.”

The tears that Tad had fought against rolled down his face.

DeDe reached toward them, but was too weak to raise her arm.  Tad wiped his cheeks then held DeDe’s hand.  “I’m so lucky you guys took me in,” he whispered.

DeDe fell silent as sleep suddenly overtook her.  Tad sat there, her hand tight in his.  A short time later, DeDe’s eyes slowly fluttered open.  Tad smiled at the face, her skin translucent, her lips dry and parched.

“Hey,” she said.

Tad leaned closer.

“What’s today?” whispered DeDe.

Tad shrugged.  “I don’t know.” He thought for a moment.  “It’s the 24th.”

DeDe squeezed his hand.  “In case I’m not here tomorrow, I want to wish you a happy birthday.  It’s your 21st and that’s a big one.”

Tad nodded and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.  

“I wanted to get you something really special, but I just couldn’t get to the store.” Her eyes flickered toward the dresser.  “But I did find a card in my desk for you.”

Tad nodded.  “We’ll open it together tomorrow.”

“Okay,” whispered DeDe.

“Promise?”

DeDe nodded. Sensing she wanted to say more, Tad leaned close.  “Happy Birthday,” she whispered before dozing off to sleep again.

The rest of the day, DeDe drifted in and out of sleep.  When she was awake, her speech was difficult to understand and her thoughts were jumbled.  Her breathing became labored and raspy.  Coach went into the kitchen and called the hospice nurse.  Within a short time, the nurse arrived and assessed DeDe.  After a quiet consultation with Coach and Tad, the nurse started a morphine drip.

“This will make her feel better,” assured the nurse.  

She sat with DeDe while Tad, Coach and Justin retreated to the kitchen to eat.  But nobody had much of an appetite. Instead, they just pushed the chicken casserole around on their plates, their minds focused on DeDe. Outside,  the mid-winter darkness settled around the sad house while stars filled the cold sky above.  

After dinner, Coach went in to sit with DeDe while Tad cleaned up.  Justin sat at the table, moving his half empty milk glass around in lazy circles.  The hospice nurse came into the room and asked for some water.  While Tad got her a glass, the nurse sat down next to Justin.

“Can I help you with anything?” She touched his arm.

Justin shrugged.  “I dunno. No.”

“Do you have any questions?”

Justin looked at the nurse.  “Will my mom suffer?”

The nurse smiled.  “No.  She isn’t feeling a lot of pain right now.”

“I wish there was something I could do for her,” said Justin.

The nurse thought for a minute.  “I know. Does she have any favorite music?”

Justin nodded.

“Then maybe you could set that up so that it’s playing softly in her room.”

Justin got up from the table and disappeared.  Tad tossed the dish towel onto the counter.

“That was good,” he commented.

The nurse pushed her blunt bangs off her brow.  “Actually, music is good.  Dying is hard work and music that the patient likes makes things easier.”

Tad swallowed the lump in his throat.  Nobody had ever actually put into words what was happening to DeDe.  The truth hit him hard.  

A few minutes later, Tad could hear the music of Vivaldi playing in DeDe’s room.  Tad went to check on DeDe and found both Coach and Justin sitting with her and talking.  

“If I didn’t know better,” murmured Tad, “I would say that is a very peaceful scene.”

“It is peaceful,” said the nurse who was standing behind him.  “Why don’t you go in.  I’m sure DeDe would want you with her.”

Tad resisted.  “I don’t know if I can.” He felt the nurse softly nudge his back.

“Of course you can,” she murmured.  “Being with DeDe now is the perfect way to honor her.”

Tad went into the room and sat on the foot of the bed.  He joined in the conversation as he, Coach and Justin talked about nothing and everything.  They all watched as DeDe’s breathing became shallow with long pauses in between gasping breaths.  Finally, Tad wrapped his hand around one of DeDe’s ankles, as if to keep her on earth.  Justin held one hand and Coach held the other.  Then they fell silent, as DeDe’s breaths became more infrequent and erratic.  They all froze when DeDe’s pause lengthened into a minute only to exhale in relief when she would gasp and take another breath.  

Tad studied DeDe. Her skin was translucent and her hands were unbearably thin and cold.  Even through the covers, Tad could feel  that her ankles were also cold.  Her lips, tinged with blue, formed a distinct, faint smile on her face.  

Tad shifted his weight on the bed.  Justin wrapped his hand tighter around his mother’s.  Coach gently stroked DeDe’s head.  She took a breath.  Then all became silent.  

Outside the room, the nurse waited.  After a brief period of time, she came in and, using her stethoscope, listened for a heartbeat.  She looked up at Coach and nodded.  

“She’s gone.” The nurse glanced at her wrist watch.  “2:28 a.m., January 25.”

Justin laid his head on his mother’s chest and broke into sobs.  Coach leaned down to kiss DeDe, but he too dissolved into heartbreaking  tears.  Tad sat there, afraid to let go, unwilling to let go. His own tears rolled silently down his cheeks. The nurse left the family alone, allowing each one their final moments with the woman they all loved.

A couple of hours later, the funeral home arrived to retrieve DeDe’s body.  Coach and Tad moved the couch out of the way so the gurney could be brought into the house.  They watched as DeDe was carefully loaded onto it, then wheeled out.  They all stood at attention in the frigid night air, their breaths making loops of vapor that stood out against the starry sky.  

“Wait,” yelled Justin suddenly.

He darted back into the house, then returned with the afghan that had covered his mother.  He walked up to the gurney and gently spread it over her, making sure to tuck in the sides.

“I don’t want her to be cold,” he explained.  “She hates being cold.”

Then he went and took his place between Tad and his father and watched as the driver loaded DeDe into the hearse.  

The three said their silent good-byes as the hearse pulled out of the driveway then traveled silently down the street. They watched it stop at the corner. Then it turned and the back lights, as if snuffed out, suddenly disappeared.

Coach, his arms wrapped tightly around Justin, turned and went back into the house. Tad followed, but stopped and took one more look down the deserted, dark street. The bare trees moved softly overhead.  As Tad looked up at the swaying branches, he caught a streak of light that blazed across the starry night sky. Then he heard DeDe’s sweet voice whispering in his ear,

“Happy Birthday, Tad.”

With a nod toward the glowing sky, Tad whispered, “Thank you DeDe. Thank you for everything.” Then he too went into the house.

**************************

“Tad? Tad?” Mart’s voice snapped Tad back to the present.

“Yeah?”

Mart made a motion with his hand.  “So...what was your twenty-first birthday like?  Being a ball player, I bet you had a real blowout, a day that will live, as the quote goes, ‘in infamy.’”

Tad slowly nodded.  “Yeah, it was definitely a day that I’ll never forget.”

“That bad, huh?” Mart nodded his head knowingly.

“You can’t even imagine,” answered Tad as he rested his head on the back of the couch.  “You can’t even imagine,” he whispered again as he wiped away the lone tear that trickled down his cheek.

Word count-9610

Author notes:  Thank you to my sister Judith for her editing and to my daughter, Katie, for her response to this story.

Ensure-a nutritional drink made by Abbott Laboratories.

Hospice-type of health care that focuses on the palliative care of the terminally ill.

“Hey, Good Lookin”’-a 1951 song written and recorded by Hank Williams.

Shooting star image courtesy of Google images.

Iris photo courtesy of me.

background tiles from