Page 83 of The Sun and Her Star

“Are you in pain?” I ask quietly.

“Not the kind that any medicine can cure,” she says with a small grimace.

“When I saw your friend appear out of the woods into our garden, I knew it was a sign. I’d been carrying that letter in my pocket, ready to mail since the day the Fergusons left. I knew that despite what he was doing to you then and what he had done to me already, we would be okay. That God hadn’t forgotten us. And I was right.” She smiles to herself, her eyes opening just a little. “Look at you now.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve only lived this long, had these years with you, because you gave up everything for me. But, now I want you to stop.”

Her words steal the air from my lungs.

“You want me to let youdie?” I ask, incredulous and hurt. “You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” Her voice is as sharp as the crack of a whip. “If it means that you’ll finally start living.”

“I’m living. Look at my life. What do you mean? We have everything.” I sweep my hand around my palatial-sized bedroom to make my point.

“Isthiseverything to you? These walls?” she asks, shaking her head incredulously and the sadness in her eyes makes me feel like shit. “I don’t believe that. You’ve achieved so much. I’mproudof you.” She squeezes my hand. “But I wonder what you would have done if I hadn’t gotten sick.” She drops her eyes and looks at her lap. “I’m so sorry—” Her voice breaks.

“Mama, don’t be sorry. I would do it all over again. I would. I wanted you to be here. I didn’t want you to have to clean floors forever,” I say.

“What’s wrong with cleaning floors?” Her voice has regained its composure, and her eyes are still glassy, but she’s annoyed.

“Nothing. It was just all the other moms—”

“Cleaning floors put a roof over our head. Sent you to school. It was enough!” She says vehemently.

“I want more thanenough!” I declare.

“You havegotto learn the lesson I didn’t until it was too late.” She pulls her hands out of mine and sticks her finger in my face, her expression furious. “Looking at what everyone else is doing shouldnotbe how you pick your path. Listen to yourheart.What doesitlove? What doesitneed? Envy isn’t a sin; it’s a vice. One that willneverallow you to be happy.”

“I’m not looking at everyone else’s lives, Mama,” I say lamely.

“Don’t lie!” she snaps. “You’ve got money. This beautiful house. Everywhere you go, people know who you are. But those weren’tyourdreams. Those were the things you saw others with and wanted for yourself. But Graham, there are some things you can’t control. Somethings that wanting it, even desperately isn’t enough. I amdying.”

“No, you don’t—”

“I want you to let me. I am not going through one more of those fucking soul crushing poisonous treatments just soyoucan have what you want.” I draw back away from her in shock.

She slaps her hand to her chest. “Iam a lost cause.Youare not. I know you love me. I know you wanted me to live a long life. I wanted that, too. But we can’t always have what we want.” Her voice is pleading, and the sadness in her eyes is breaking my heart.

“I have everything I want, Mama. Why do you think I don’t?” I ask, and I know it’s a lie.

“This, my son, is your rock bottom. Your world is about to be pulled out from under your feet. And the only way to save yourself is to learn how tofly. I am going todie. I have eighteen months left on this earth, and I need you to let me do it in peace. You can’t force me to live for you. I won’t let you live for me.”

“No…” It’s the only word I can find after listening to her speech. I just want her to stop talking.

“Yes!” She hisses insistently. “Your dreams were bigger than having things, Graham. You wanted to teach. You wanted to see the world. You wanted to be with Apollo.”

At the mention of Apollo’s name, bile rises in my throat, coating my words with resentment I never dared show. “Well, I couldn’t do those things. And now, my life is different.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair and stare up at the ceiling.

She squeezes my hand. “Look at me.”

I obey. Her eyes are stern, but her voice is gentle. “I know you must resent me.”

I can’t lie to her. But, I’m ashamed to admit it. I hang my head to avoid her eyes.

She strokes my fingers gently. I look at our hands and toy with the single pearl ring on her ring finger. It was the first piece of jewelry I ever bought her. Of all of the other jewelry I’ve bought her since. It’s the only one she actually wears.

“It’s okay to be honest about how you feel. You’re entitled to that. I’m actually glad to know. It meansyouknow you’ve missed out on something and that deep down you still want it.”

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