The Gift
Chapter 42

Jason wakes me up for breakfast. “French toast. Figured you’d want it hot. Kinda like your adventures yesterday I hear.”

“Could have been better,” I say sleepily. “Some girl wouldn’t share her hot man with me. I begged and everything.”

He bends over and kisses my forehead, saying, “This is as close as it gets. Woman’s orders. I think she’s jealous.”

“Even as a dying girl’s last wish?” I ask.

“That’s low,” he says, but then gives me a quick kiss. “This stays between us. She finds out and I might not live long enough to make it to my own wedding.”

“Swear,” I say.

“She told me she asked you about being ring bearer.”

I nod and say, “Sure, but like I told her, make backup plans just in case. Maybe Brittany. Holly would be a better bridesmaid. Um, in my opinion. Not like I’m in charge of who’s going to be in your wedding or anything.”

“I think Anna was going to involve both anyways. But you’ll be there either way.”

No, I won’t, sadly enough. Well, maybe I can be there. I’ll have to ask Lucas.

“So, get up and get ready to eat,” he tells me as he’s leaving.

I get up and go back to my morning ritual, realizing that I’m pretty much back to normal. Great. Normal, just to die.

I come out of the bathroom to find Ben sitting on my bed, waiting for me. Two meals sat on the table in front of him. I washed my hands and pad back to bed and sit net to Ben, taking his hand.

“Morning,” he says.

“This is an unexpected pleasure,” I say.

“A Man’s got to have priorities.”

“Food,” I say, digging in. We eat one handed, our other, twined together and our knees touching.

After we finish, Ben asks, “What’s left?”

“Mom and dad should be here soon. They’re it. Maybe get in some making out time before that,” I say, kissing him.

“You taste like syrup,” he tells me.

“You too.” I quickly kiss him again. “I guess it’s a little late to ask, but will you go out with me? Be my boyfriend?”

“I dunno. I hear you cheat. With other girls no less… What the heck, sure. I know you put out.”

This earns him another kiss. “I’ll call you when it’s time. Your phone will ring but I’m not going to say anything. I’ve programmed your room number into my phone so I can all without anyone knowing.”

“Okay,” he says, glumly.

“Oh, cheer up. It’s not the end of the world…for you. We’ll be together soon enough.”

He gets up and walks to the door and I tell him not to forget my things when he comes. He promises. He starts to turn, and I say, “Hey.” He turns back. “It might be too soon, but I don’t think so. I love you, Benjamin.”

“No, not too soon. I love you too Amanda.” He turns and leaves.

I get up and move both chairs, so they face each other, and sit and watch TV, waiting for my parents.

They come walking in about a half hour later. I’ve already set my phone to text both Brittany and Holly with a push of a button and I have Ben’s room number on one button on speed dial.

I get up, having them both sit in the chairs and then curl up in my dad’s lap like I did when I was little. Both are amazed by my speedy recovery which I simply say, “It wasn’t going to get the best of me.”

I tell them about the last few days with Brittany and Holly and Anna and Jason’s engagement. “Pick up a wedding gift for them from me please. Doesn’t have to be expensive, just something to remind them of me.”

“We will,” Mom says.

I look at dad and say, “Promise. I don’t know when it is, but in case I’m in the hospital or something you have to do it.”

Dad looks at me strangely and says, “I promise. No matter what, they will get something from you.”

“Thank you,” I say and hug dad. He hugs me back, harder than he has in a long time. Almost like he’s not afraid to break me. I squeeze tighter. “I love you,” I say into his neck.

“I love you too, kiddo.”

“You too, mom,” I say.

“I love you too, hon,” she says.

I got them talking about my childhood pre-cancer. We remember the good times we had, bypassing the bad times. I ask about their lives before mom had me. About their happiness and love together.

They need to remember the good times and the happiness without me. It’s possible still. I force them to talk about their plans for after I die. We all hope for a miracle, but we’ve talked about the realities of it not happening.

“We’ll be sad,” mom says.

“But you’ll survive and move on, right?” I ask.

“It’ll be hard,” dad says.

“But not impossible. It’ll always be in your hearts and minds. And know I’ll always be near and thinking of you, just like you will be of me.”

“You’re too ornery to ever forget,” dad says.

Hah! “Did I mention I had a boyfriend Will you take me shopping dad so I can buy some sexy underwear? I want to look good when he sees me,” I say, deadpan.

Dad actually sputters. “Excuse me? You’re too young to date and certainly too young for any boy to see you in sexy underwear, young lady.”

“I’m not too young to date, and the underwear is moot because he’s blind and can’t appreciate it anyways, except maybe by touch, but oh well. You’ll meet him later.”

I could see dad go through changes. He looked apoplectic.

“He can just feel what he can’t see.”

“No, he most certainly cannot feel anything,” my dad says.

“Relax dad, before you join me in here. Ben is blind, is a gentleman, and he IS my boyfriend, so deal with it. I still love you though,” I say, giving dad another hug and kiss. “And just think… you’ll be grandparents in another nine months.”

“WHAT?!” dad almost yells.

Mom looks like she’s in shock.

“God, you’re easy daddy. I’m a virgin, and will probably die a virgin, so chill. Call the Vegas bookies, they’ll probably give you wonderful odds.

“Mom, what’s he so uptight about? He’ll buy you sexy things and he got you pregnant.”

“I think it’s because I’m not, and wasn’t thirteen, dear.”

“I read in one of those teen magazines that the average age for having sex for the first time is like thirteen now,” I tell them.

Mom calmly tells me, “You were never average honey.”

I snort and say, “Duh. Fine. No sex and no girly underwear for the blind boy. What else?”

“No touching,” dad quickly says.

“Too late,” I say, watching dad’s face start to change and say, “We hold hands every chance we get. And before you tell me I can’t, I might as well tell you he already kissed me. And I kissed him. But that’s all.”

Dad looks like he wants to faint.

“Daddy’s little girl is growing up,” I say.

“Too fast,” he adds.

“Stop. You couldn’t shelter me forever. You taught me well. Be proud. Watch daytime TV and see all the girls my age knocked up already. I’m not one, even though I have less supervision than most of them. Not to mention I’m smarter than them. I’ve got a loving family and friends.

“Life dealt me a crappy hand, but we played a hell of a game with it, haven’t we?”

“Yes, you have,” dad admits.

“No, not me. We.”

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