“I know, and there is so much I need to tell you.” Grace looked to the ceiling and then back to me. “I need to apologize.”

“For what? Dying?” I asked, the word coming out broken.

“No. For lying. I lied to you Abel, and I’m so sorry. I really hope you can find a way to forgive me some day. I thought it was for the best, but looking back, I think I should have fought harder. Come up with another plan. I…”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters,” I said just as Grace started to choke. She cleared her throat several times before she could speak again.

“It’s all there for you to find out,” she said, and I didn’t know if she was still talking about the same thing, or if she was on any pain medication that might have just kicked in. “As I said, I’m dying, but I’m not going anywhere. Even death couldn’t keep me from my boys.”

“Kind of like Preppy,” I said, forgetting that I’d never told Grace about hearing his voice.

Grace flashed me a tight, blue-lipped smile. “You hear him too.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted, “Although, not as much anymore.”

“He was a good boy, my Samuel. Never could let anyone get a word in when he could say it louder, ruder, and a lot more inappropriately.” Grace chuckled and then coughed. I reached over and sat her up, feeling the outline of the bones in her spine and the outline of her ribs as I did.

When the fuck did she get so skinny?

“Thank you,” she said, after the coughing fit subsided. “Dying hurts.”

“Not funny,” I said.

“I didn’t mean for it to be. It’s just the truth.”

“I should have been there more. I should have—”

“No,” Grace said, effectively shutting me down. “Stop with that ‘should have’ shit. I have no regrets and you shouldn’t have them either. I love you. No matter what. For as long as I’m in this life and for as long as the next will have me.”

Grace’s eyes darted over my shoulder toward the door.

“There you are,” she said, holding out her other hand. Ti stepped up and took it in hers, going to stand on the other side of Grace’s bed.

“What’s going on with the alarms?” Ti asked.

“It’s nothing,” Grace said, “I’m just dying and they know it, but the machines don’t have human brains so they seem to think I’m salvageable. They’ll stop in a second.”

Sure enough in another three seconds, the room calmed and returned to the sickening halogen green glow it was cast in when I first came in.

“Thia, my dear, remember what I told you,” Grace said, without letting go of my hands. Thia leaned over and held on to Grace’s forearm. “Be good to my boy.”

“I will. I promise,” Ti said, wiping her own tears. “Always.”

“That’s my girl,” Grace said, followed by another coughing fit, this one twice as long as the last. More alarms buzzed and sounded, yet not a single nurse or doctor came bursting into the room.

“Is there any music around?” Grace asked, again moving the mask away from her mouth. “I don’t want to die in a room full of alarms, silence, or sobs. I want to go into my Edmond’s arms surrounded by beautiful music.” I was about to get up and go ask the nurse’s station if they had a radio when Thia chimed in.

“What do you want to hear?” she asked.

“I want to meet my dear husband surrounded by Sinatra,” Grace said, with a smile. “It was his favorite. We danced to every Sinatra song there was in our living room.”

Ti nodded. “Any particular song?”

Grace shook her head and covered her mouth again with the oxygen mask. She then took my hand and laid it on her chest and did the same with Ti’s. Grace held on to the both of us when, much to my surprise, my girl cleared her throat and started to sing. “Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars…” her voice was throaty and raspy, yet clear and perfect. Grace relaxed into her pillows and held our hands tight as the machines went haywire once again.

This time they didn’t stop.

Just as Ti started the third chorus, Grace’s grip on our hands started to loosen. “I see Edmund,” she whispered, staring off into the far corner of the room with a big smile on her face. “Edmund, my darling.” She paused for a moment. “Where is my girl? Where is she? And my Samuel? I want to see my…” Grace’s sentence faded away just as she did.

Grace slipped quietly and peacefully into her death surrounded by love, music, and the threat of eternal haunting.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Thia

“I STILL CAN’T believe she’s gone,” Bear said, removing the black button-down shirt he’d worn for the funeral and tossing it onto the bed. I picked it up and folded the collar in a way that would keep its shape, the same way my mother used to do with my father’s church shirts.

I followed Bear out to the living room and sat on the couch as I watched him sift through the kitchen cabinets on the far wall, searching until he found what he wanted. He unscrewed the cap on the bottle of whiskey and took a swig from the bottle.

“I know you’re hurting, but you heard her. Grace made it very clear that you and King were the most important people in her life.” I stood up and walked over to him, wrapping my arms around him from behind and resting my cheek on his back as he leaned against the counter. “She loved you. She wanted the best for you. You’re hurting and that’s normal, but when it hurts the worst remember all the good she brought into your life.”

“Is that what you do?” Bear asked, clearing his throat as if the words were stuck there.

“What do you mean?”

“With your parents. Do you remember the good when it all gets to be too much?”

“I don’t remember much good. A few movie nights with my mom. A dad who was the best dad in the world, until he let her bullshit take him down with her. A brother who was amazing and who I loved very much, but was only in my life for a very short period of time, so I don’t remember all that much about him. They’re all gone and yes it hurts to remember, but the good isn’t easy to come by when it’s in a big cloud of bad,” I said, wrapping my arms around my mid section and rocking back on my heels. “But I know it wasn’t like that with you and Grace. I know there was a lot of good.”

“It was all good,” Bear confirmed. “Even when she was mad at us. Even when she was disappointed with us. It was still good because she actually fucking cared when no one else did. My old man wanted a soldier, not a son. Grace wanted sons, so it didn’t matter what we did or how bad we were or what decisions we made. She loved us. First person in my life who ever said that to me, who I actually believed.” His eyes met mine. “Until you.”

“Tell me more about her,” I said. We walked over to the couch and he pulled me onto his lap, resting his head on my shoulder. He took another swig and passed the bottle to me.

“She bought me condoms once,” Bear said with a chuckle.

“What?” I asked, trying to keep the whiskey from flying out of my nose. I was relieved to see the small smile that appeared on his face. The sound of his brief laugh warming my insides just as much, if not more than the whiskey.