Come Back Tomorrow, page 19
Oh my God. My jaw hits the floor as I stare in awe at the picture before me. It’s a landscape, a scene of dense woods and fallen trees that looks like it could be from one of the forests surrounding Seattle. The detail is beyond incredible. It looks like a photograph. Hell, it looks like I could walk right into the picture, and I might actually believe I could if it was done in color instead of black and white. How the hell did Will do this with just a charcoal pencil?
“Have you ever been to Olympic National Forest?” he asks, smiling at me.
“My dad took me there once,” I stammer, unable to take my eyes off the picture.
“Jay and I used to go there to paint. Well, he would paint, and I would sketch. But that picture is how I remember it.”
“Will, this is incredible. And you say you’re better with a paintbrush? I’ve never seen a drawing with this much detail before. It’s breathtaking.”
Will blushes and looks down. “It’s not that good.”
“Yes. Yes, it is! You’re so incredibly talented. I can’t believe you sat and drew this in a hospital bed.”
He blushes even more, and his smile widens. “Thanks, Tori. I’m so glad you like it.”
“Can I see more?”
He nods, staring at me with a peculiar look on his face, but I can’t stop to ponder it with his sketchbook in my hot little hands. I turn the page, and I can’t help but giggle. The next sketch is a picture of Sebastian. Will is a man whose main loves in life are chocolate and his cat.
Again, the picture is brilliantly detailed, and Sebastian looks so real that I reach out to touch him before stopping myself, not wanting to damage Will’s work in any way.
The next one is another picture of Sebastian, but this one is a close up of his face as if he’s looking outward from the page. I extend my trembling hand over the perfect image and realize that tears are streaming down my face.
Will grasps my hand, drawing my eyes up to his. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, uh, fine.” I stammer as my eyes burn, and my heart aches. The beauty of his work has affected me deeply, and I know I’m falling even further, but what’s tearing me apart is knowing his life will end soon. All this talent, all the emotion he’s able to evoke simply by moving a pencil over paper, all of it will leave this world forever when he draws his last breath. How can life be so cruel?
I’m dangerously close to breaking down, and I don’t want to do that in front of him. I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, and give him a watery smile, trying to convince us both I’m okay.
He still looks worried, but he doesn’t press me.
The next sketches are of Jenny and Jason, and Will’s captured them perfectly. “These are gorgeous,” I tell him, and he gives me a little satisfied smile.
I flip to the next sketch, and we both draw in a sharp breath. The picture is a woman’s face with long, wavy hair hanging down to her shoulders, her features immediately reminding me of Will.
I risk a glance up at him, but he’s still staring at the picture, one hand curled into a fist and sadness etched on his face.
“Who is this?”
He looks up at me, the sorrow plain in his eyes. “That’s . . . my mother,” he whispers. “I forgot that one was in there.”
“Will—”
“I’m happy you’re here with me, but some of my decisions are already made. Even though things have changed between us, there are things I’m still not willing to explain or discuss.” His words are hard, but his voice quavers as he says them.
His declaration stings, but I caress his hand gently, my words as soft as his were hard. “I was just going to say that she’s beautiful, and I can see where you get your good looks.”
“Oh,” he says, blushing fiercely. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Tori. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I’m an ass.”
“No, you’re not. You’re doing the best you can, and I know that. And I promised you I wouldn’t ask.”
Will takes a deep breath, and his shoulders relax. “Well, I’m sorry anyway. You’re entirely too understanding.”
“Nah,” I say, shrugging it off.
“Hey, what happened to our dinner plans?”
“Oh!” I exclaim, hurriedly glancing at the clock. “I called and placed our order, but they were running late, so they told me it wouldn’t be ready until five. I need to run so our food doesn’t end up cold!”
Will chuckles, shaking his head and wincing. “Well, hurry up, woman! Now you’re standing between a man and his Italian food!”
“You know, sometimes you’re entirely too cute,” I tell him, kissing him on the nose.
He ducks his head and grins, an adorable blush creeping up his cheeks. Warmth flares in my chest, and I suddenly understand what people mean when they say they have warm fuzzies because that’s exactly what I have right now.
Mercifully, there isn’t much traffic on the way over, despite the time, and I make it to Il Terrazzo Carmine at exactly five o’clock.
The restaurant is upscale but not ridiculous, and as I glance around, I imagine Will and myself sitting at one of the white linen-covered tables, enjoying a quiet meal. What I wouldn’t give to do that with him today. Hmm . . . we can’t do it here, but maybe we can still do it.
Paying for our food hurriedly, I decide to make a flying trip to my place. I dash in and grab one of my white linen tablecloths, a pair of napkins, and place settings for two from my dinnerware and silver. I also grab two wine glasses, two bottles of water, and a bud vase, putting everything in a tote bag and wrapping the plates and glassware in the linens.
As I bustle about the apartment, Sebastian appears, stretching luxuriously and declaring it’s time for dinner.
“I’m not here to stay, buddy,” I tell him. “I need to go feed your favorite person dinner first.” Sebastian just stares, meowing loudly at me.
“Are you this demanding with Will?” I ask as I open a can of cat food and deposit it into his dish.
“I’ll be back later,” I say as I scurry out the door, eager to get back to the hospital.
On the way up to Will’s room, I stop at the flower vending machine in the lobby and buy a single red rose.
I arrive at Will’s door at a quarter to six, amazed I was able to do all that in a little over an hour. Will’s eyes are closed, but they fly open as the door squeaks, and I curse myself for forgetting about the damn thing.
A warm smile spreads across his face. “You’re back,” he says, his voice deep and husky from sleep.
“I am, and now I have some work to do,” I tell him, setting my bags on my chair. “This probably would have worked out better if you were still sleeping, but . . . can you close your eyes?”
“What did you do?”
“Never you mind; you’ll see in a minute. Now humor me and play along, okay?”
“All right,” he says, closing his eyes, but the smile never leaves his face.
“Good. I’ll tell you when you can open them.”
I get to work quickly, moving Will’s sketchbook and pencils from his table and spreading the white linen tablecloth over it. I set two place settings, intending to perch on his bed and sit facing him while we eat, and place the rose in the bud vase between them. The fit is tight, but I’m sure Will will get the idea. Next, I pour the water, then pull out the food, dishing it onto the plates. Thankfully, the restaurant packaged everything in foil containers, so it’s still reasonably hot.
Will inhales deeply. “You’re killing me here. Are you almost finished?”
I stand back, admiring my handiwork and making sure everything is in place.
“Okay, you can open your eyes.”
He smiles in delight, and his eyes are watery as his gaze falls on me. “Tori, this is amazing. Thank you so much! You didn’t have to do this!”
“Well, I know you were really wishing we could go out together, but since we can’t do that, I figured I’d do everything I could to bring the restaurant to you.”
I take his hand, and he quickly brings mine up to his lips, kissing the back as he stares at me adoringly. “Thank you again. This is fantastic, truly.”
My heart flutters, and I grin from ear to ear. I carefully take my seat on the side of his bed as he beams at me. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes, please!” Will says, picking up his fork and spearing some of his rigatoni.
I watch in fascination as he brings the fork up to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before popping the pasta into his mouth. He starts to moan as he exhales, and I reach over and squeeze his other hand. The sound cuts off immediately, and he gapes at me, surprised. Glaring at him, I shake my head, and he ducks his chin, grinning as his cheeks redden.
“You did that on purpose.”
He stares at me in shock. “I would never!”
I raise one eyebrow in disbelief, and he crumbles.
“Okay, I would, but I didn’t this time! It’s just that fucking good!” he exclaims, and I laugh hysterically.
He laughs right along with me, but I have to release his hand so he can grip his midsection, grimacing in pain. He glides over the intrusion of his illness smoothly, taking a moment to breathe before looking over at me and smiling.
“Um, I’ll just eat my pasta quietly now,” he says, sounding properly chastised.
“I’m so glad you like it,” I say, picking up my own fork and sampling my cannelloni. “Mmm,” I hum, before I even realize what I’m doing.
“See?” Will declares triumphantly, stabbing his fork in my direction before he goes back to eating.
And that’s the way things go all through our meal. Will is upbeat and happy, and we joke and laugh as we talk about movies and music, and I steer carefully away from any topic that would bring up his illness. We feed each other bites of our entrees and put down our forks to kiss more than once.
I stop to watch him as he’s telling me a story about a drunken evening out with Jason and his friends, eating with one hand and gesturing with the other. Then it hits me. This is exactly what it would be like if we were out on a date. This is the real Will. I’ve seen glimpses of him before at different moments when he’s been happy but never for this long and without the interruption of something to bring us back to reality. Joy and sorrow wash over me in equal measure as I realize how happy we could have been. But it doesn’t matter. We’re happy now; that’s what matters.
I’m brought back to the present when I realize Will has stopped talking. He’s staring down at his plate with a confused look on his face, his brow furrowed. He raises his hand absently to his neck, wincing as he touches the swollen lymph node there.
“What’s the matter?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to get distracted.”
I smile to myself, knowing I was the one who should have been caught out for being distracted, and I take another bite of my cannelloni.
Will takes another bite of his pasta, but suddenly, his eyes go wide as a wheezing sound escapes him. He tries to cough, but he can’t, so he makes the horrible wheezing sound again.
Oh my God, he’s choking! Panic rips down my spine as I stand up and push the table out of the way. I reach across his lap and hit the call button for Jenny, but I know what to do, so I don’t wait.
“Will, I’m going to sit you up more and pound your back between your shoulders,” I tell him as I grip under his left arm. He can’t acknowledge me, but at least he knows what I’m doing, and hopefully, my voice will calm him.
Will’s still making strangled noises as he tries to cough, so he’s at least getting some air. While I hold him up with my left arm, I pound between his shoulder blades with my right hand. He gasps, and then he’s reaching for the napkin on his lap and coughing pasta into it, taking in a great lungful of air before each cough.
Jenny skids into the room, taking in the scene with alarm. “What the hell?”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, although I’m starting to shake. “Will was choking, but I think he’s all right now.”
Will is still gasping for breath, but at least he’s stopped coughing. He’s also still gripping my arm, and I know it’s taking a lot of his strength to sit straight up, so I start to gently lower him toward the mattress.
He cries out, his right hand clutching his thigh so hard I can see the tendons in his forearm. He collapses back against the bed, still breathing heavily and grunting in pain.
I run my fingers into his hair and whisper words of comfort to soothe him even though inside, I’m still shaking like a leaf. After a few minutes, his arm relaxes, and his breathing slows.
“Are you all right, Will?” Jenny asks from behind me. I had forgotten she was there.
“Yeah,” he whispers tiredly. “Tori stopped me from choking, but it hurt like hell to sit up like that.”
“Dammit! I knew I had to be hurting you, but I didn’t see any other way—”
“You did what you had to do, and you just saved my life. I’m fine,” Will says, putting his hand on my arm. His words are reassuring, but there’s still a touch of panic in his eyes.
Jenny stares at Will, her expression serious. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll come and check on you after Tori leaves, all right?”
Will looks over at her distractedly. “Sure, Jenny. Thanks.”
Jenny turns on her heel and leaves without another word, and some of the tension in the room leaves with her.
My heart is finally starting to slow down as the adrenaline wears off. I take a deep breath. While it shocked me and scared the shit out of me for a moment, it wasn’t that big a deal. Will was getting air the whole time, and I’ve choked on food like that before. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. I’m just a little shaken up. That’s all. I’m sorry for ruining our dinner.”
“You didn’t ruin anything! These things happen. I’m just glad it wasn’t serious.”
Will’s presses his lips together tightly for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.
“Are you still hungry?” I ask, looking over toward the remains of our dinner.
“No, I . . . I think I’m done, but you should go ahead and finish yours. You were enjoying it so much,” Will says, looking over to me. He gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s trying to steer things back to the way they were, but something is . . . off.
I pull the table back over and sit down again. After all that excitement, I don’t have any enthusiasm for finishing my dinner either, but I take a few more bites for Will’s sake.
“This really was a great idea. We’ll have to do it again soon.”
“Yeah,” Will answers, staring down at his plate.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out to cup his cheek in my hand. His eyes cut to mine as if I’ve pulled him out of deep thought, widening as he realizes he wasn’t paying me the slightest bit of attention.
“Sweetheart, you’re somewhere else, and I think you still need some time to calm down. Choking like that can be pretty scary. Why don’t I pack up and go and let you rest?”
“Um, okay. Yeah, I . . . I guess I should,” Will answers, his eyes roaming the room.
Now he’s really making me nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this unsettled. I stroke his cheek again, pulling him back to me. “Hey. Take a deep breath. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“I’m sorry. I guess that really did scare me. I can’t seem to shake it. I’m sure I’ll be okay after I sleep on it.”
This time when his eyes meet mine, I feel like he’s really here, and it calms me a bit. I stand and clean up our plates, smiling as I think back over what a lovely dinner it was. Will watches me for a few minutes, but by the time I finish, his eyes are closed.
He doesn’t stir as I pack up the last few items even though I accidently clang the wine glasses together, and I wonder if he’s already asleep. I can’t resist the urge, though, so I lean down and kiss his forehead. He breathes in sharply as my lips touch him, but he doesn’t open his eyes. I’m puzzled because he’s never pretended to be asleep before, but I chalk it up to the scary ending to our evening.
I head home, clean up the dishes, and spend a few hours watching TV with Sebastian, but I turn in early. I’m eager to see Will in the morning, to wipe away the strange feeling that something wasn’t right when I left him last night.
Chapter 21
I arrive on the fourth floor at eight a.m. on the dot, hoping a quick visit with Will can calm the unease I’ve been feeling since yesterday.
Jenny looks up as I approach, smiling at me, but somehow, it’s not a happy smile.
“Hi, Jenny, how are you this morning?” I ask, smiling back and trying not to be paranoid.
“Hey, Tori. I’m fine. But it feels like a long morning already, and I’ve only been here an hour,” she replies, sighing.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope your day gets better. Have you checked on Will yet today?”
“Actually, I have. He’s feverish this morning, and Dr. Evans is in with him now.”
A spark of fear runs through me, but I try to quench it. Will is a terminally ill patient; of course his doctor is going to come to see him. It doesn’t mean anything new is wrong. But that nagging feeling I have just won’t go away, so I do what I know I shouldn’t.
“Is he okay, Jenny?”
Jenny purses her lips as she looks at me. “Dr. Evans stops by to see Will around nine-thirty almost every day; he’s just here a little earlier today.”
I release the breath I was holding as my anxiety level drops a few notches. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see him at four, then. Can you tell him I came by?”
“Of course,” Jenny says, squeezing my shoulder before she walks away.
I stare after her, puzzled and a little disappointed. I was sure she was going to ask me about my dinner with Will last night, and I was looking forward to telling her. She must be really distracted and busy this morning. Shrugging, I turn and head back to the elevators.
My day passes quickly, and before I know it, I’m walking down the fourth floor hall toward Will’s room. Jenny is sitting in front of the computer at the nurses’ station, looking at least as frazzled as she did this morning, so I stop to check on her. “Hey, Jenny. Did your day get any better?”
