Page 29 of Catching the Mistletoe

Maybe I should take advantage of that and bring up the kiss. Talk about it properly, like adults. I felt like I owed her an explanation, at the very least, but I wasn’t even sure how I would frame that.The thing is, I’m tainted goods, Arabella. You’re better off steering well clear of me.Before I could even begin to think about how I could do that, she said,

“How much do you know about my illness?”

“Not much. Just that it started when you were in middle school and ended with the kidney transplant last year.”

“Right.” She was facing away from me, gazing out the window. There wasn’t much to see. Just industrial parks and warehouses. “It started with my eyes. I was struggling at school, with reading and stuff. And I hated playing outside all of a sudden.” She paused, maybe lost in the memory, rubbing her thumb on the back of her hand. “We didn’t freak out at first, obviously. Vision problems in kids are pretty normal. Then the fatigue set in. I was so fucking tired. All the time.” She went quiet again, and I let her. I wasn’t going anywhere if she wanted to talk some more. At the same time, I wasn’t going to push her.

We hit the highway, and the road stretched out ahead. There were miles and miles between us and the distant horizon. The sky was a crisp, late autumn blue, so clear it almost hurt to look at. Bare trees stood along the route, their branches skeletal against the sky, barely holding onto the last of their leaves.

Arabella shifted in the seat, turning to face me a little more. “There were so many blood tests. A battery of tests, they called it. I can’t remember the specifics, but it took maybe three months to get an actual diagnosis.” More rubbing her thumb along the back of her hand. “After that, everything changed.”

“I can imagine.”

“It’s a pretty rare disease. Something like only one in two hundred thousand are affected. Mom always said I was special.”

The bitterness in her tone kicked me in the gut. She was way too sweet and lovely to have to feel that. “So, what happened after the diagnosis?”

“Ongoing management. Years of it. So many different drugs. Some to reduce the levels in my cells. Supplements for the mineral loss. Thyroid management. Vitamin B injections. Iron infusions. Physical therapy to help combat the muscle wastage. Eye drops for the vision problems. Medical appointments every damn day of the week, it seemed.”

“That sounds shit.”

“Yeah. I went from being a pretty normal kid to a full-time job for my mom. I mean, she had to quit teaching just to be able to take me to all of my appointments.”

She went quiet again as we continued north, turning her head to look back out the window. “Looking back on it now, I think one of the hardest things was Dad giving up his PhD. The medical bills were piling up, and it was all we could do to hold on to the family home. Until we couldn’t even do that anymore. So yeah, Dad left his passion project and got a job in middle management. He’s done that ever since. I can’t imagine he gets much joy from it.”

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t regret it, if that’s what you’re thinking. He loves you, a lot, Arabella. I’d bet my last penny he doesn’t think twice about it. Because you’re still here. And that matters more to him than anything.”

“I know that. It’s everyone else, too.” Her tone was soft, vibrating with pain. “Uncle Rhys took a second job to help with the bills. My grandparents moved back to Vermont from Florida to help out where they could. I mean, fuck, Genevieve switched to nursing so she could help manage my treatments. Zane gave me his kidney, for fuck’s sake. Everyone gave up so much for me and I…”

Her voice was thick with emotion and I could tell she was holding back tears as she rubbed harder at the back of her hand. I reached over, wordlessly covering her hands with my own, trying to ease the tension. She turned her hand under mind, linking our fingers, swallowing heavily. “It’s just…I’ve never been this well. Never had this much energy. And I just want to live, you know? I want to run into the ocean at midnight, weird, slimy creatures notwithstanding. I want to climb mountains, feel the rush of standing at the peak with the world sprawling out below me. I want to go to a music festival and lose myself in the crowd, the music reverberating through my bones. I want to backpack through unknown places, eat street food that I can’t even pronounce, and learn a new language, even if I butcher it. I want to get a tattoo. I want to dance in the rain. Who cares if it’s cliché? I want to take a road trip with no destination in mind, just the open road and a killer playlist. I want to try every wild, adrenaline-pumping activity there is—skydiving, bungee jumping, paragliding. All of it. And maybe I want to fall head over heels in love, with no reservations, no holding back. I want to feel alive in every sense of the word, because for so long, I’ve only known what it’s like to merely exist. And it’s like, how can I reconcile that? Wanting to seize the world, when my world used to be so small, and my family sacrificed so much to keep that world turning for me? It’s a fucked up way to pay them back.” She finished, dragging in a deep, shuddering breath, and I squeezed her hand.

“I disagree.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, do tell.”

“It’s thebestpossible way to pay them back. I can’t see how they would have gone through all of that, only for you to spend the rest of your life withering away under the weight of the obligation you feel you have to them. I know your family, Arabella. I can pretty safely say they want you to live your best life. And the life you just described seems pretty fucking awesome. You should definitely do that.”

“Okay, so I’m just gonna go ahead and cry now.”

I pulled my hand from hers and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out a pack of tissues and dropping them in her lap. “Knock yourself out.”

Pulling a tissue out, she wiped at her eyes. “I’ve got two things to say.”

“Okay.”

“First, that is the most I have ever heard you speak.”

I smiled, because the old Arabella was back with a vengeance and I was here for it. “Seems like you needed to hear it.”

“Seems like.”

“What’s the second?”

“How the fuck did you get so smart, anyway?”

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