Gabe held me as I collapsed against his chest in thankful sobs.
“When can we see him?” Randy asked, his voice hoarse.
“He’s still asleep.” The doctor smiled. “I don’t know if it was the drugs finally kicking in, or just a miracle. I’ve worked in the field of oncologic thoracic surgery for fifteen years and never seen anything like it. We’ll be examining all the drugs your son took to see if there’s something to the combination that shrinks tumors in their final stages.”
“Alright.” Randy held out his hand, and the doctor shook it. “Thank you, thank you for everything.”
“It was my pleasure.” The doctor nodded to us and walked off.
I couldn’t see through my tears.
Gabe’s body shook against mine. I thought he was crying and then I looked up. He was laughing so hard I thought he was doing to pass out.
“What’s wrong with you?” I pushed against him.
“That bastard made me promise to be his best man.” Gabe laughed even louder. “He would live—” Gabe wiped his eyes. “—just to see me in a tux.”
I joined in the laughter. Lisa rose from her chair and grabbed my hand in hers. Relief, that’s all I felt, relief that he was going to be okay, that we were going to be together. I had to keep myself from running into that operating room and throwing my body against his.
He was alive.
The love of my life was waiting for me.
Holy crap. I was getting married in a year.
Now it was my turn to laugh.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I dreamt of Kiersten in a wedding dress. I was at the end of the aisle and she was walking toward me. Then my brain fast-forwarded to us holding hands and watching our kids play in the yard. And then, even further, I watched our wrinkled hands touch as we were witness to another great-grandchild being brought into the world. My life — my future. It was all her.
Weston
The first thing I saw when I woke up was my dad. He was hovering over my bed with a look of pure awe on his face. The minute I’d seen my mom’s wedding ring on Angela’s finger, I’d known I was going to be okay. I knew with certainty that I really was just going to take a nap and then wake up and start my life — a new beginning.
Dad’s face faded in and out as well as Kiersten’s. I had no idea how long I slept. One day, my eyes stayed open. I tried focusing on something — anything. Finally, I was able to see another face. My dad’s smile made my chest hurt, either that or my chest just hurt from the surgery, I couldn’t tell if it was physical or emotional — nor did I care. It hurt — pain meant that I was living.
“How do you feel?” my dad asked.
“Like a quarterback.” My voice was still hoarse from having the tube thrust down it, but I didn’t care. I wanted to talk. Talking meant I wasn’t dreaming everything up. Every damn breath hurt like hell, but I kept breathing too. I told myself it would be a privilege to breathe through pain like that for the rest of my life — just knowing each breath was a gift..
Dad laughed. “Good, you think Coach will let you play in that bowl game?”
“When we get that bowl game,” I corrected as I tried to clear my throat and get my voice to sound more normal. “Coach promised me he’d let me play.” I winked. “Where is everyone?”
“I wanted a moment…” Dad cleared his throat. “Just to talk to my son. Alone. To make sure it was real. That you were really here and not still in that operating room. Did the doctors tell you what they discovered?”
I nodded. “The tumor shrank.”
“Son, the tumor shrank to a quarter of its size, all within four days.”
I couldn’t trust myself to speak. One nurse called it a miracle while the doctor gave all the credit to the medicine. I guess I’d never know, and maybe it didn’t matter how I was spared, just that I was.
“Incredible, right?” I said.
“A miracle.” Dad patted my hand, “I love you, Wes.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
He got up, then paused in the doorway. “You really getting married in a year?”