Page 141 of Something Like Forever
“Yeah.Me and my dogs. It feels strange not having one now. It’s more thanjust them.” Tim took a shuddering breath, either due to the coughor maybe emotion. “I miss Marcello.”
Ben patted Tim’s hand andleft his own on top of it. “Yes. So do I. Life just isn’t the samewithout him. Still, Nathaniel and Kelly have done a good job ofkeeping it all afloat.”
Tim nodded. “Noah andHarold too. They’ve all preserved his legacy, but it’s not thesame. None of us could replace his personality. I’d give just aboutanything for one of his weird gropey hugs.”
“He wasalways a gentleman with me,” Ben said. “Never put a hand where heshouldn’t.”
“With me he wasallhands,” Timsaid, shoulders shaking with laughter. And maybe a little sorrow.“I loved him. Just about more than anyone. Except you. And Jason,of course.”
They sat together insilence, lost in memory.
Tim was the first tospeak. “I’m not avoiding the doctors. I’ve alreadybeen.”
“Inperson?” Ben looked over at him. When he saw a nod of confirmation,his stomach sank. “Then it’s serious?”
Tim put on a brave smile.“Nothing I haven’t faced before.”
“Thecancer is back!” Ben forced himself to calm down. Hardly anyonedied of cancer these days. Not when medical screenings were soeffective at early detection. “Did they catch it soonenough?”
“No,” Tim said. “I onlyhave myself to blame, but there are options. Best case scenario,they keep it in check. The cancer won’t spread further. It won’tkill me.”
Ben took in his reassuringexpression and shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell mesooner?”
“BecauseI wanted to see what the cardiologist had to say. If the news wasbad and you weren’t going to be okay… Once you go, I don’t plan onsticking around. Don’t worry though. I’ll keep mypromise.”
Ben intertwined theirfingers and leaned against him. “We’ve had good lives,” hesaid.
“Definitely,” Timagreed.
“And everything has itstime.”
“That it does,” Timsaid.
“What ifwe let nature take its course?” In the silence that followed thisquestion, he listened to Tim’s breaths, which sounded more laboredthan even just a month ago.
“I can’tmake that decision for you,” Tim said. “I don’t believe death isthe end. I know you’re not so certain. Maybe we should face thisquestion with the assumption that you’re right and I’m wrong. Ifthere’s nothing after this world, would you still want togo?”
“Onelife is more than enough for me,” Ben said. “Especially as good asmine has been. Clinging to it at this point seemsungrateful.”
“We canstill think about it,” Tim said, nudging him playfully. “We’re notfacing the executioner just yet.”
“Isuppose not,” Ben said, laughing at his own melodrama. Maybe it wasthe theater he missed instead of his youth!
“I would worry aboutJason,” Tim said.
“Whenour time comes, he’ll hurt just like we did when losing ourparents. We can’t keep him from that experience indefinitely. Notunless he goes first, and frankly, that’s a day I don’t want tolive long enough to see.” Ben nearly shuddered at the thought. “No,he’ll find his way past the pain. If not for his own sake, then forhis children.”
“I’m soproud of him,” Tim said. “I know we didn’t make him, butstill.”
Ben nodded, thinking ofall the foster children Jason had given a home to. And how manygrandchildren and joyful memories that had resulted in. “I’m proudof him too.”
The fingers interwovenwith his own squeezed. “So where do we stand?”
Ben took as deep a breathas he could manage. “The pharmacy is sending my new medicine.You?”
“I have an appointment atMD Anderson next week.”
“Hownostalgic,” Ben joked. “I’ve been wanting to revisit the pastlately. I guess I should have been morespecific.”
