I wrote down everything that could possibly be done for a funeral service, with the help of Google of course. “Good Lord, this like planning a wedding…to Jesus. I have to pick a suit, transportation, decorations, church—” I heard a bit of chuckling, followed by a cough.
“Oh, Haven. I love you, darlin’.” I looked up to see Dylan smiling at me from his bed. “I have a suit, so you can mark that off your list.” His gaunt features competed with his warm gaze.
“I love you, too, Dylan. I just hope that I can reflect who you are to me and honor your memor—” I choked up on the last words. “Damn it, we are talking like you’re already dead. This is so hard.”
“Shh…come here.” He lifted just his pinkie finger, sparking the memories of days when we would hold hands, just our baby fingers locked in an embrace. It was our thing; something I would hold on to long after he left me.
Tears stung my eyelids as I made my way to his bedside. I wrapped my finger around his and placed my other hand over top. His skin felt cold against my fiery palm. I sniffled. “So, maybe some input? Like real input, I can’t—I can’t let you go to a final resting place in a clown car.” He rasped out a short laugh. “Seriously, Dylan. I’m walking in blind here. I’ve never planned a funeral before, especially not one suitable for Ronald McDonald.”
He looked at me through lowered lashes. I could see he was fighting to stay awake. “I like carnations,” he whispered. “And you can choose any church you want. I’m not picky.” His breath became labored as he powered through whatever it was he wanted to tell me. “Go with Dignity Funeral Home. I like the name. It makes me sound like I had a choice in the matter of my life and death.”
I smiled, the tears steadily falling down my face. I rubbed his hand. “Okay Dyl. I’ll take care of everything. But please, please, wait just a little bit longer. I’m not ready yet.”
I saw his chest rise in a sigh, but his breathing was so shallow, no noise came from his mouth. “I’ll try, sugar. For as long as I can.” His eyes closed, a silent snore rumbled his lips and his hand went limp in mine.
Dylan was fading away from my life and I couldn’t bear the thought of when the day actually came for me to say goodbye.
Jude
Her smile was gone. She walked with so much sadness. I saw her come and go from the store across the road from my garage, looking exhausted and drained. She looked like I felt. I imagined she felt worse though… I couldn’t even imagine losing her forever. Knowing she was alive was a consolation to knowing I couldn’t have her.
Her pain was my pain. There was nothing more than I wanted, but take it away for her. I wanted to shoulder it.
Dylan called me yesterday. I didn’t recognize the number so I let it ring, but he left a message.
“Jude, Haven doesn’t know I’m calling you but I need a favor. I’ve never lied to her or kept anything from her, but I’m breaking that promise right now.” He took a breath; it was loud, as if he had trouble.
“She’s gonna need someone when I’m gone and she’s too stubborn to admit that. I’m telling you, I want it to be you. I need it to be you…she needs it to be you. Please, take care of our girl.” I could hear the emotion behind his voice. I knew this was hard for him.
“Haven still loves you, Jude. Be the man she needs you to be. Take care of her.”
And with that, he hung up. No request to call him back, nothing. He didn’t even ask me not to tell her, which I thought was odd since he was keeping it from Haven himself.
Well, damn it!
I'd wanted to take care of her for a long time. Haven was the type of girl a man wanted to take care of. Love and cherish. I wanted to be that man. I would be that man. Haven deserved to love and be loved. Dylan had shown her that, and for his gift to her, I was thankful. I just hoped she was accepting of me once he was gone.
I clicked save on my voicemail. Chances were I’d need proof of what Dylan’s request was of me. Regardless, I would take care of Haven. Whether she wanted me to or not, I couldn’t deny a dying man’s wishes.
Haven
Lying wrapped up in Dylan’s arms, I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my face knowing this might very well be the last time I would be held by him. My nights were spent wondering when that moment would come, when I had to say goodbye. My throat felt like it was on fire and I tried in vain to swallow down the lump stuck there. His body looked so tired and I knew the only thing keeping him in a deep sleep were the painkillers.
The lights where low and the soft slow sounds of music came from the stereo speakers, while the world outside completely oblivious to the fact that I was losing him. He was slipping away from me with every second that passed by.
“Sugar,” he rasped out. “Promise me something?” His breathing was sluggish as he tried to speak clearly.
“Anything, Dyl.” I moved my hand up to his chest, resting my palm there, waiting for his request. I’d promise him anything.
“Let him take care of you.” He struggled to take another breath and spoke again. “Don’t shut him out anymore. I know you love me, but I’ve always known you’ll never stop loving him. And that’s okay, darlin’.” My throat was closing. This was his dying wish? He wanted me to promise that of all things as he struggled through his last breath? I buried my face against his ribs and tired not to break…again.