Actually, none of me really wanted to know.

“Are you family?” the doc asked skeptically, pushing his glasses up his nose seeking answers from his tablet. His fingers flew over the screen. When he came to a stop he squinted down, his mouth moving as he read.

I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest. I towered over the little pale-faced doctor and stepped close enough to him to make him feel how incredibly inadequate he would be in this fight not worth starting.

Because if he didn’t stop looking down at that fucking thing and answer my girl’s question, there would be a fight.

“We are as much family as she’s got,” I said. “You gonna fucking tell me what me and my girl need to know or what?”

The doc cleared his throat, his face paled. He looked down at his tablet one more time. “Um… Actually, are you by chance either Mr. Abel McAdams or Mr. Brantley King?” he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose for the millionth time.

“He’s Abel,” Ti chimed in. She stood beside me, and again I reached for her hand and was glad when I felt hers slip into mine.

“Well then, you are her next of kin, according to her paperwork, so I can certainly share her status with you. Is Mrs. Jeffries your mother by chance?”

“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. She was the closest fucking thing I’d ever had and if this motherfucker delayed one more second, me kicking his ass would wind up being my first positive hospital story.

“Well, Mrs. Jeffries cancer has spread, as you probably know. Brain. Lungs. It’s terminal. It’s been terminal. Last year we’d told her she only had weeks left, if not days, but she defied us all by lasting a heck of a lot longer. You should be proud of her. I’d never seen anything like it,” the doc said that like that bit of information was supposed to somehow make me feel like she wasn’t laying dying less than twenty feet away.

“Doctor…” Ti said politely.

“Reynolds” he finished. “Dr. Reynolds.”

“Dr. Reynolds,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You didn’t answer the question. How long does she have now? And don’t bullshit me.” Ti squeezed my hand. I gave Ti’s hand a squeeze back, looked over at Doogie Howser, Asian MD and said the one word I rarely used, “Please.”

“Not long. Due to her current condition, I would normally say only hours. But honestly, in my professional opinion, due to her rate of deterioration, it’s probably less than that. All of her major organs are shutting down.” He looked like he wanted to run as far away as possible and honestly I didn’t blame the little cocksucker.

“Thank you,” Ti said. The doctor nodded and scurried off down the hall, clutching his stupid tablet, like a mouse released from a trap.

We sat down again in the same two chairs, only to stand back up a few seconds later when King and Ray emerged from the room. For most people, I could see how King was hard to read. Especially because he never felt the need to fill the silence with words like Preppy always had. Seeing the solemn look on his face made me feel like I didn’t need to talk. Maybe a little bit of King had rubbed off on me.

Ti embraced a crying Ray. King came up to me and lowered his voice. “She keeps passing out. Her breathing sounds like she’s been smoking a carton a day for the last fifty years.” He paused, running his hand over his face. “This is it, man. You need to get in there.”

King and I had been friends since we were fifteen years old. That was the first time he’d ever reached out and embraced me in more than a pat on the shoulder, but an actual hug. It was brief, but he was my brother. Blood or not, he had my back and I had his. Even in the hospital while our pseudo mother lay dying on the other side of the wall. “She really wants to talk to you,” he added.

I nodded and reached my hand out for Ti who had her hands full with a weeping Ray against her chest. “You go first,” Ti said, “I’ll join you in just a minute.” I didn’t want to go in alone, but at the same time, I felt like I had to. There was so much to say to Grace, but where the hell would I even start?

“Abel,” Grace said, again lowering her mask and stretching out her fingers for me. I sat beside her on the chair and took her hand in both of mine.

“I’m here,” I reassured her, giving her hand a quick kiss. Her skin was ice cold.

“I knew you would be. Even though I know you hate hospitals. Are you all right?” she asked.

I laughed because Grace knew me better than anyone. She was knocking on death’s door yet she wanted to make sure I was okay because I hated hospitals. “I don’t think okay is really the word I’d use,” I said.

She smiled at me. The same sympathetic smile that got me through a lot of hard times during my teenage years. “I know what happened to Samuel felt like the end of your life too, my son.” Grace drew in a shaky labored breath. “But it wasn’t. And when I get to the other side, I know for a fact the both of us are going to have a good long laugh at your expense.” She coughed and I lunged forward to place the mask back over her face.

She took slow deep breaths, her chest lurching on every intake. When she’d calmed, I said, “I wouldn’t put it past either one of you.” She waved away my hand and looked at me with unfocused bloodshot eyes. Her lips were a light shade of blue. Her hair was covered with a light purple bandana.

“I am dying, Abel. But I swear to fucking Christ that I’m not leaving you. You need to know I wouldn’t do that. When you make Thia your wife, which I know you’ll do just from the way you both look when you talk about one another, I’ll be here with you.” She patted my hand, again comforting me when she was the one in the hospital bed. “When you welcome your first, second, third child into this world, I’ll be here. When you don’t know what to do or you don’t know where to turn, I’ll whisper in your ear until you make up your mind. Just promise me one thing.”

My heart was hammering in my chest. Tears I didn’t know I possessed leaked from the corners of my eyes and trailed their heat down my cheeks, wetting my beard. “What’s that?” I asked. My voice cracked.

Grace flashed me a weak smile, her chest rose and fell rapidly. The machines beeping and blinking with each intake of final breath. “When it comes to the girl out there.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fuck it up.” Grace gasped.

I held her hand up to my lips. “I’ll try my hardest not to. I promise.” I chuckled, tasting the salt of my tears. My shoulders shook, and for a small moment I allowed myself to wallow in my grief.

“Thank you, sweet boy,” Grace said, bringing my hands to her mouth and giving them a dry-lipped kiss.

“For what?” I asked, wiping my cheek on the shoulder of the shirt I’d put on as we were walking up to the doors.

“For being the son I always wished for. You, Samuel, and Brantley. I prayed for sons every single day since the day I married Edmond, and it took long enough, and you boys didn’t come to me in a way I ever expected, but suddenly you were there, and you made me the mama I’d always wanted to be.” Machines beeped and blinked again. Some sort of alarm went off on the far wall. The room flashed in red light.

“There is so much I need to tell you,” I said, holding on to her more tightly as if she was going to slip out of my grasp at any second and physically fall to her death.