When August Ends(75)

There were no words for how grateful I felt to be alive. My memory was unaffected. My speech and motor skills were intact. Basically, I was a living miracle. I hadn’t lost function, and in fact I’d gained something: a new perspective.

I could no longer waste my life in any way, couldn’t get stuck because of indecision or fear. Every day, every moment needed to matter.

Heather had been sleeping at my house and spending each day at the hospital. My mother and brother had also been staying at my place. They’d just left to go back to Minnesota yesterday, so Heather had gotten to know them really well. I no longer had to wonder how my family was going to react to her. They’d fallen in love, just as I had.

My beautiful girlfriend beamed as she walked into my hospital room. “I just got word from the final professor I’d been waiting to hear from that I can complete my last few assignments from here. I won’t have to go back to school to get full credit for this semester. I won’t lose anything.”

Sitting up on the bed, I leaned in to kiss her. “That’s the best news. We can drive out there and get the rest of your stuff in a few weeks.”

“Whenever you feel up to it. It’s no rush. Ming says she’s not going to get another roommate until the fall. So my stuff will just be sitting there until we get it.”

“I owe that girl an entire case of baby powder.”

***

Walking into my house after being gone for nearly a month felt freaking awesome. And it seemed more like home than ever, because Heather had put her touches on it. There were fresh flowers on the table and some candles scattered around.

It felt like I’d missed so much, like I’d come back from the dead.

I got emotional when I looked over at the cage—a new and much bigger cage—and saw it filled with four guinea pigs—Clyde and three babies. Bonnie had died giving birth. Evidently that was typical with older females. I’d barely cried over my near-death experience, but when I found out Bonnie hadn’t survived her labor, I’d lost it. Heather had been the one to break the news. She’d gone to my house for the first time shortly after my surgery to feed them and realized the babies had been born. Soon thereafter, she’d discovered Bonnie wasn’t breathing.

“Hey, little guys.”

“We still have to name the babies.” Heather was suddenly in tears.

She’d been pretty good about not losing it lately. I think she was just happy to have me home.

She rubbed my back. “Feels good to be home, huh?”

“It does, but mostly because you’re with me. I couldn’t imagine walking in here alone after all this.”

We lay together on the couch for a while. I had a lot on my mind that I needed to let out. I hoped she didn’t think I was crazy after what I was about to propose.

I took a deep breath. “Everything I thought I knew about how life is supposed to work has gone out the window,” I told her. “I never realized how fast things can change. I pushed you away because I thought that’s what was right for you. But if I’d died on that operating table, I would have thrown away the only time we’d ever have together—those months you were in Vermont.”

She moved to straddle me. “Don’t think about the what-ifs right now.”

“I have to, only because it’s related to what I’m about to say.”

She kissed my nose. “Okay.”

“I didn’t go with my gut when I left you back in New Hampshire. If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. Leaving you never felt right. I thought the way for you to live your best life was to experience it apart from me, but maybe it should have been with me. Maybe things don’t always have to be by the book. Maybe we need to go by what feels right.”

“I never had any doubt that I belong where you are.”

“I know you didn’t.” I caressed her cheek. “I’ve had a lot of time to think while stuck in that hospital. I asked myself, what would I want if I knew my time was limited? Because it very well could be. Aneurysm or not, none of us knows for sure if we’re guaranteed a lot of time on this Earth. I decided what I want more than anything is to travel the world with you. I want to show you some of the places I’ve been, experience them again with you, and then discover new places together. Maybe it’s not college in Vermont you need. Maybe traveling with me is how you can sow your oats.”

“Wha—” Heather began.

But I forged ahead. “When I was lying there, recovering in that bed, I realized I haven’t done nearly all of the things I want to do. And I’ve lived a pretty good life. In the end, all we have are memories. I don’t have nearly enough memories with you. I want to make some. What do you say? Will you go on an adventure with me?”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean…how can we afford it?”

“I made some smart investments in my twenties. I have a lot saved up—probably at least fifty grand to play with before I’d even feel a dent. We can set a financial limit and stop when we’ve reached it. Then we’ll come back, and you can enroll in school here, if that’s what you want.” I tried to read her expression. “If you think it’s too reckless, we don’t have to—”

“This sounds like a dream. I just can’t believe it’s an option.”