Shadow Notes by Laurel Peterson (cool books to read txt) 📗

it will be over—I’ll take you to dinner, and we’ll talk about the stuff that matters. In the meantime, I’ll try to keep you in the loop for everything else. Deal?” I held out the hand covered in towel.

He grinned, the first, full out grin I’d seen on him that night. “Deal.” He put his hand into the towel and shook. Then, he leaned over and, very gently, gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Woo hoo.

Chapter 21

Richard wobbled into the room, his champagne glass held aloft, queen-style. “Hey you two! You’re taking an awfully long time to do the dishes!” He giggled a little and collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Morrie followed, putting his arms around Richard’s shoulders and hugging him hard. He laid his cheek on Richard’s head. “Hey, old man. What do the doctors say about you these days?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Not much. Turns out I’ve got Lyme, so that’s antibiotics up the wazoo.” He snorted. “Whoopee. More drugs.”

The stereo snapped off in the other room, and a round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” started up.

Kyle finished the last pot and handed it to me before turning from the sink and drying his hands. “Does that affect your HIV?”

“Who knows?” Richard threw up his hands, unintentionally heaving Morrie off. Morrie smiled quietly and leaned on the wall behind Richard. “Everything pretty much does, it’s alllll immune system. Maybe I should just cross my fingers. That should work, right? Yup. Just cross my fingers. More champagne?” He stood up and wobbled vaguely in the direction of the refrigerator. Kyle gently steered him back to the table and got the bottle. He sent a questioning glance toward me, but I didn’t know what to do. I’d never seen Richard this plastered.

It didn’t matter, because he forgot almost immediately.

“Morrie, my friend, this sucks. When we’re young, we think everything is reversible. But some stuff, you never see coming and then you don’t know what the hell you’re supposed to do next.” He squitched sideways in his chair and looked at Kyle. “Bet that’s what Katrina did to you, huh?” He slumped forward again, tapping the table with his forefinger. “These days, they say HIV isn’t a death sentence, but they don’t tell you how to live with it. They don’t tell you that people will still be scared of you, that you have to change how you think and eat and organize your life. Lucky days are when you forget about it for a while.”

Richard plopped his elbows onto the table and dropped his chin into his palms. “Paul, now Paul. What would I do without him? That man loves me so much, and I don’t deserve any of it. He keeps fighting for us, but sometimes, I just wanna give up, you know? Just put me in one of those flaming boats and float me out to sea like a Viking. That’d be the way to be sent off, right?”

I put my hand on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the curve of my hip. “Clara, sweetie, you’ve gotta find someone who loves you like Paul loves me. Dying is a bitch, and if you haven’t shared whatever you get in this world with someone then who cares what you get? All those experiences go with you to the grave unless someone else carries the memory.”

Morrie looked absolutely stricken. Kyle was still. I had a huge knot in my throat like a scarf tied too tight. The song finished in the living room, and the chatter started up again.

“What did I come in here for?” Richard muttered, looking around vaguely.

“This, I believe.” Kyle held up the champagne. “How about we bring it into the other room?”

Paul caught my eye as we entered. He rose quickly to help Richard to a seat, relieving Kyle of the champagne, and placing it safely out of reach on the sideboard. “Sorry,” he whispered. “He’s been like that recently. The pressure at work is getting to him.”

I chastised myself for not being here to notice or to help, then felt overwhelmed by all the competing priorities. I turned away and saw Ernie helping Mother on with her coat. “Are you leaving?” I said. “I thought Bailey…I thought we were going to talk.”

“I’m going to stay again with Ernie and Loretta tonight,” she said. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” She tipped her head at Kyle, as if in warning.

I was too hurt by her leaving to pay attention. “It’s Christmas. I’m your family.”

She had the grace to look startled. “Yes, you are, although I’ve not heard you say that before. Tonight, though, Loretta and Ernie have lost their family, and they need someone with them. Loretta is my oldest friend.” She started to reach for me, then paused, as if unsure of my reaction. “Loretta was here when you weren’t, Clara. I owe her.”

“Join us, Clara,” Ernie suggested. “We have room.” But Loretta’s exhausted face and my own petulance stopped me.

“We’ll have other Christmases,” Mother said. Then, in the sort of strange turnabout that was her trademark, she gestured like the mother of my childhood, and like a good daughter, I stepped toward her. She kissed my cheek. “Merry Christmas, Clara.”

Paul saw my face. “Why don’t you stay here? You can run home for clothes tomorrow. We’ve got the space, it’s late, and anyway, we could use the company.” My first instinct was to demure, but then I reconsidered. I imagined that, when the person you loved was dying, being with him was the only place you wanted to be. It would also be a hard and lonely place. Maybe my presence would act as a buffer against the fear that this would be their last Christmas together, a fear—I suddenly realized—they must carry through every holiday, no matter how well Richard was doing.

After that, the party broke up. It was nearly one o’clock before they all drifted out the door, with kisses and promises to be back