Your Perfect Year(51)

Hannah burst into tears again.

“I’m so sorry!” Lisa slapped her palm to her forehead. “I’m such an idiot! How could I say such a thing?”

“Noooo,” Hannah replied between sobs. “You’re right.” She wiped both hands over her face and attempted a smile. “It’s just so difficult for me to get my head around it all. Me, I’d always prefer to know exactly where I stand rather than stumble around in the dark. That’s the only way I can come to terms with it.”

“Hmm. Are you sure that’s what you’d do? You’ve never been in that situation.”

“I’m still certain!” Hannah replied without hesitation. “I’d want to know.”

Lisa thought for a moment before voicing her next thought slowly and carefully. “Let’s say someone could see your future with one hundred percent accuracy—”

“Impossible.”

“Never mind; just assume they could. And that someone could also tell you the very day you’ll die—would you really want to know? Or wouldn’t you prefer death to hit you one day out of the blue, without warning?”

“What a horrible question!”

“But that’s the question Simon’s facing right now.”

“Not exactly,” she countered. “Simon knows he’s ill, so there’s no question of ‘out of the blue.’”

“Well, the diagnosis has fallen on him out of the blue.”

“Out of a cloudy sky, more like,” Hannah said. “He hasn’t been feeling well—physically or mentally—for several months.”

“Just think about what I asked you.”

“Okay,” Hannah said reluctantly. She didn’t need to think for long. “I’d want to know, whatever the situation,” she said emphatically. “Then I could experience the time left to me fully aware. I could savor every day. I could get my affairs in order, as people so nicely put it, say goodbye to the people I love, or travel the world—and at the end, maybe even throw a wild party.”

“Fine,” Lisa said. “Just as I thought. That’s what you’re like.”

“Like what?”

“Pragmatic.”

“Pragmatic?”

“Always looking ahead,” Lisa said. “Not allowing things to get you down and making the best of everything—and that’s fine, in a way. Except that everyone’s different, and Simon seems to be choosing a different way.”

“He’s not choosing any way, he’s standing still!”

“Doing nothing is also a decision.”

Hannah regarded her in astonishment. “Since when have you spouted wisdom like a guru?”

Lisa blushed. “I, um, I read that somewhere recently.”

“Where? In Spiritualist Weekly?”

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m only trying to help.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” She nudged her friend in the ribs.

“Apologizing’s what I do, remember?” Lisa said and nudged her back. “Anyway, you’re the one who’s always talking about seeing crises as opportunities and all that—I thought I’d try it out.”

“Ha ha.”

They smiled in silence at one another for a moment. Hannah was so glad her friend was with her. It didn’t make the situation any better, but it was somehow more bearable.

“What about you?” Hannah asked eventually. “Would you want to know when you were going to die?”

“No idea. I never think about things like that.”

“Huh!” Hannah rolled her eyes in mock irritation, then wagged her index finger. “Not so easy! You can’t wriggle out of it like that. You have to answer the question!”

“Have to?”

“Yep.”

“Well, then, let me think.” Lisa leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. Thought about it. For a long time. A very long time.

“Have you gone to sleep?” Hannah asked impatiently.

“No.” She opened her eyes but remained silent and unmoving, staring at the ceiling as if there were something interesting there.

“It can’t be that difficult,” Hannah said after another two minutes had gone by. “You’re just stalling!”

Lisa finally turned to her. “No,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “I wouldn’t want to know the day I was going to die. No way. And if anyone wanted to tell me, I wouldn’t let them. I wouldn’t want to know when anyone else was going to die either. It would be horrible to know when you’re going to die . . . or my parents.”

Hannah raised her hands defensively. “No need to make a speech about it! Don’t worry, I can’t tell you.”

“Sorry.”

“Now what for?”

“That you think I’m speechifying.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hannah said. “I’m just amazed that you’re suddenly taking it so seriously.”

“It’s a serious subject.”

“We’re just playing with ideas. Since no one can reliably predict when we’re going to die.”

“No,” Lisa agreed. She smiled. “I just had a thought.”