The Redemption(74)

“Thank you.”

“Can we talk or am I interrupting?”

“We can talk.” I set the guitar down, then say, “I could use some fresh air. Would you like to go for a walk?”





The sky is blue and there’s a nice breeze outside as we follow the gravel path around the outside of the gardens. “I have cancer.” I had the glass to my lips when she tells me. I bring it down and stop in my spot. She looks back and says, “I don’t want to make a big deal of it. Let’s keep walking.”

“Cancer is a big deal.”

“Yes,” she says, “But we must die from something. Dying is a side effect of life.”

“You’re downplaying it. Death seems like a really bad f*cking side effect.”

She wraps her arm around my elbow and we start walking again. “It’s inoperable and too far along to bother treating. I’m good with this.”

My mind can’t seem to grasp onto anything tangible, her words make no sense to me. Questions fill my brain as her justifications don’t provide the answers I need. “I’m not good with it. What did Gage say?”

“He doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell you first.”

“Why?”

She pulls me tighter to her, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Because you’re a better man than I ever gave you credit for. And, I knew you’d be more rational with this kind of news.”

I want to be anything but rational. Feeling aggravated to have this laid upon me like this makes me mad. I’m trying to hold that in because she seems to crave peace and after years of craving her attention, she’s finally giving it to me. I don’t want to blow it now. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Because the doctors said weeks. Not months or years. Weeks. And I don’t want to spend my remaining time fighting a battle that clearly cannot be won.” She lifts her head and releases my arm. “I know what they will say and I’m worried about Gage and his troubled situation.”

“Troubled?”

“Britney has left him and taken the children. He’s blown through a lot of his inheritance and has asked for loans against future deposits.” We come to a bench and she sits, her body sinking down only a bit as she does. Always a woman of pride and propriety, her posture is not reflective of her condition. I sit beside her, and she says, “Gage is not a Caggiano. He was conceived out of wedlock thus negating his claim to any of your grandfather’s money or estates. The first will covered him. This second one will eliminate him from receiving anything more.”

My head goes back in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Please don’t swear. Anyway, I know this is a lot to take in, but I need your help now. I’m not sure what to tell him. I think he’ll be more upset about the loss of funds than finding out that he’s the son of a poet passing through town. Or that I have cancer.”

“He’ll care. You two were always very close.”

“We haven’t been in a few years.”

“Since the situation with me.”

“Yes. I think it needs to be revisited. He needs to come to terms with the damage he did. You need to find it in your heart to forgive him, for me. You’ll only have each other soon. As for me, please don’t worry. I don’t feel any pain. That’s much different than I imagined when I was told. I’m just tired.” She’s calm, so calm as if she’s come to peace with her past, present, and future all in one day. “I want to die at home if you don’t mind forgoing the hospice the doctors will insist upon.”

“Of course,” I say, no hesitation to help her find that peace. “I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“Antonio, continue to shine like the star you are. I’m so proud of you and your accomplishments.” She looks at me, and says, “I used to be a star, the belle of the ball.”

Her confessions have me intrigued. Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and look at her. She speaks as if she’s worlds away, maybe living in the memory she’s recalling. “Your father, Joseph, was a wonderful man when I met him. I was sitting at a restaurant in downtown Diablo with Gage and he was having lunch next to me. He commented how I was a good mother to my baby, giving the baby all of my attention. One thing led to the next and he joined us for lunch.”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Most definitely.” She sits back and raises her chin up while closing her eyes. “So handsome. So much like you,” she says, glancing at me. “I don’t think you have any of the Dexter features, except maybe my sparkling personality.”

And here I thought she didn’t know me at all.

“I’ve seen you on TV so many times. You’re captivating and charming. I see why young women fall for you. But tell me, has anyone mattered? Is there anyone special? That woman you brought around to the country club perhaps?”

“Rochelle.” I stop there, contemplating how much I want to share versus how much I should share. I decide there might not be another chance, so I say, “I fell in love with Rochelle the first time I ever laid eyes on her.”

My mom smiles and asks, “When was that?”

“Eleven years ago. When I was nineteen.”

Her eyes widen. “Well, that’s a long time to be in love with someone. Why have you not been together?”