Park Avenue Player(74)
Tobias frowned. “You’re simplifying something that’s more complicated than that.”
“Actually, I think you’re making something pretty simple more complicated than it is. You cheated because you’re an asshole. And even after two years, you still can’t own that. You know why? Because you’re an asshole. Maybe you have obsessive-compulsive asshole disease. Why don’t you ask your therapist to treat you for that? I hear an enema might help.”
“You’re lashing out because you still care.” He took a step toward me, and I put both my hands up and took a step back.
“Don’t,” I warned.
“You should come to my therapist with me. I think it would be good for us.”
“No, Tobias. First of all, there is no us. Second, you don’t need a therapist to treat you for some bullshit disease. You simply need to man up and grow some morals. And third, I’m not lashing out because I care. I’m lashing out because I hate cheaters. You’ve robbed me of happiness these last two years, and some stupid bitch has the man I care about too nervous to try a relationship because she cheated on him. Cheaters are basically the bane of my existence.”
My ex-husband had the audacity to sound perturbed. “What man you care about?”
I huffed and turned back to the stairs. “Go to bed, Tobias.”
***
The next morning during breakfast, Bree asked if we could all go sit on the back porch when we were done eating. Mariah, Bree’s stepmom, and I cleaned up the kitchen while Richard, Bree’s dad, and Tobias headed outside. We told Bree we’d join them as soon as we were done.
Not ready for the conversation we were about to have, I spent a solid minute drying a single plate. “Maybe we should take all the dishes out of the cabinets and wash them. The house wasn’t used over the winter, and they’re probably pretty dusty.”
Mariah finished rinsing the last plate in the sink and shook the water off before placing it on the drying rack. She turned to face me, leaning her hip against the basin.
“I know this is hard. But think of how much harder it is for her. We have to try to keep it together through everything she wants to say today.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I can.”
She smiled warmly. “You can. Though I’ve only been part of this family a few years, I can say without a doubt that you’re one of the strongest women I know. A storm makes a tree grow its roots deeper so it can keep standing. That’s what you’ll do, what we’ll all do. We dig in and hold tight as a family. All together.”
A lump formed in my throat. Leaning on people hadn’t exactly worked out for me in the past—my own family, Tobias… Every time I’d grown the courage to trust someone and allow them to bear a little of the weight, they’d crumbled when I leaned.
But I’d do whatever it took to help my friend. I just needed to stand strong on my own and be there for her. Breaking down today would only make it harder.
“Thanks, Mariah. I guess we shouldn’t keep her waiting anymore.”
Mariah and I went out to the back porch and joined everyone else. Once we were settled, Bree took a folded paper from her back pocket and began to open it. She cleared her throat. “I thought it was time we discussed my final wishes.”
I knew why she’d asked us all here for the weekend—her reasons were obvious—but hearing her say the words final wishes made it so much more real. Tears welled in my eyes. There was no way I’d get through today dry.
Bree looked at each one of us before she began. I was in awe of how strong she could be.
“Last week when I went to my doctor, I signed a DNR form.” She raised her long-sleeve shirt to reveal a bracelet I hadn’t noticed on her wrist. “I’m sure you all know what that means, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I also know what it means. This bracelet tells any emergency responder or physician that I do not want to have prolonged life-saving treatments performed on me. I’m choosing not to be resuscitated in instances where my heart stops, or where I might need long-term intubation.”
Tears streamed down my face, and Mariah reached over and handed me a tissue.
Bree looked at me sadly. She actually felt bad for us. Talk about being selfless.
“I’m so sorry I need to do this, and that it’s causing you pain. But I believe it’ll be better in the long run if everything is clear. It would be far worse for you all to be unsure of my wishes and have to make decisions on my behalf you aren’t certain about. I also don’t want you to think I might’ve signed documents like the DNR in haste. I want to make sure you know I’ve thought long and hard about my decisions.”
Of course, this made perfect sense. It was the responsible thing to do. Though that didn’t make it any easier. I felt so distraught, so utterly gutted, that when Tobias reached over and took my hand, I didn’t have the wherewithal to pull it away. Instead, I clutched it right back.
“Dad is my executor. My estate is fairly simple and straightforward. All of my remaining savings will go the Lymphangioleiomyomatosis Research Foundation. I have a safety deposit box, which has a few things in it I’d like each of you to have, and he’ll make sure to distribute those.”
For the next twenty minutes, my best friend went on to talk about pain management, donating her organs, her funeral plans, and a half a dozen other things that I heard, but didn’t really process. She talked so long that she had to take multiple breaks to catch her breath. By the time she finished, she’d worn herself out so much that she needed to lie down and rest.