Page 86 of Warrior's Walk
I sweep her bangs from her forehead and manage a weak smile. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”
She can barely squeeze my hand. “You didn’t sit here the whole time, did you, baby?”
“You know I did, Mama. I sat here thinkin’ about you and me growin’ up together. The best times of my life were with you.” I swore I wasn’t gonna cry in front of her, but I can feel the tears coming and I’m powerless to stop them. “You’re in every memory I have, and now—” I can’t even finish that sentence. Saying it out loud is admitting defeat, and I’m not done fighting.
“You’re gonna have to make some new memories now, pecan. Memories that don’t include me.” Her speech sounds slow, like she’s too exhausted to speak.
“No, Mama. No, I won’t!”
“Hush. You spent the last four years on your own. The Army made a man out of you in a way I never could. Broke my heart to see you leave, but I thank God every day you made that decision. You can do this, Rhett.”
“No, Mama, we still have so many memories to make together, so many things we were supposed to do.”
“Life’s under no obligation to give us what we expect. We take what we get and we’re thankful it’s no worse than it is,” she quotes from her favorite movie. I’m pretty sure I’ve rolledmy eyes every single time she’s quoted that movie, but now I’d give anything for her to stick around and bug me with that shit. “I wrote down all your favorite recipes and left them in your kitchen. Back home, in my attic, you’ll find all the stuff I saved of yours when you were little, and in the closet in the guestroom, you’ll find all my picture albums.”
“I don’t want to talk about that stuff, Mama. I want to talk about?—”
“You listen to me, Rhett Butler. You can’t put off what’s comin’ tomorrow or the next day. You have to face it head-on, look it in the eye, and flick it off.”
I can’t swallow, I can’t breathe. My head is swimming with thoughts and memories and feelings, and I feel like I’m drowning under the weight of it. “Tell me what to do, Mama. Tell me what you want. Do you want me to take you back home to Ruston? I can stay with you.”
“No, baby. Your life is here. You’re needed here. That house, it’s always been filled with happiness and love. I don’t want to die there. I don’t want to taint the memories we made there.”
“But Mama,” I argue. I look around at the sterile room and the medical equipment. Who wants to die in a hospital?
“Rhett, honey, I won’t make it that long.” She says it so matter-of-factly, like she’s already made peace with her dying.
“How long did you know you were sick? Why didn’t you say anythin’?”
“You were on the other side of the world when I found out. I didn’t need you worryin’ about me. I needed you focused so you could come home safe.”
“If… if you don’t…” I have to pause and clear my throat. “Do you want to be buried next to your parents? You could wear that pretty costume you made. I bet you still fit in it.”
The corner of her mouth pulls up like she’s trying to smile. “I loved that dress. But no, don’t you dare put me in the groundnext to my parents. It’s so far away from here, I bet you’ll never come to see me. I want to be close to you so I can watch over you, so I don’t miss nothin’.” She closes her eyes for a moment, and I think she’s gonna take a nap, but then she opens them again. “Don’t you go plannin’ no funeral for me, neither, Rhett. I won’t have all that sad cryin’ and blusterin’. I want to be celebrated. I’ve lived a good life, short, but good, and I want you to celebrate all the years we had together.”
I nod as tears stream from my eyes, coating my skin with grief.
“That man,” she nods at Riggs, who’s pretending to be asleep in the corner. I know he’s pretending. “He’s a goodun’. You hang onto him and don’t let go.”
“Mama, he’s… I love him.”
She lays her hand over our joined hands. “I know, baby. And I’m so proud of you. You’re both good men. Don’t you ever be ashamed of lovin’ a good man.”
Her blinks become longer as her eyelids grow heavier. “You tired, Mama?”
“Yes, baby. Let Mama get some rest.”
“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” I assure her.
Riggs clears his throat and I turn to him. In the next instant, his arms are around me, and he’s holding me so tight he might just squeeze all the grief out of me.
His voice sounds like sharp gravel. “It’s killing me to see you hurting so badly.”
“It would kill me worse if you weren’t here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, soldier.”
My mama sleeps for hours. Riggs slips out to grab us both coffee. I didn’t realize how tired I was, but he gently shakes me awake. I lift my head from my mama’s tray table, littered with glossy brochures and folded origami figurines. My mama loves birds, and I’ve been trying to make every single one I can thinkof—flamingos, cranes, another eagle, a hummingbird—I want to surround her with the things she loves.