We All Fall Down

Chapter 29

Rick

John and Patrice had been gone for two days. I watched my youngest son pace the house, helpless. I, too, am helpless. I ignored the calls from my doctor and I avoided Becky at all cost. If she saw me like that—a fraction of my former self—she would surely have made me go to the doctor. But I knew that I was beyond help.

"Dad?" Ben called from the hallway. I had resigned myself to my chair in the living room. It's sagged permanently to the shape of my body and offers some comfort to my overwhelmingly aching body.

"Yes?" I answered but made no move to meet him where he was. I couldn't if I tried. I turned my head, wincing at the effort. I longed for sleep, but it was never restful.

"When were you going to tell us?" Ben emerges from around the corner. The light from the front windows made him glow as if he were an angel. My angel Ben. I hid my paperwork in my side table drawer. My intention was never to lie to my sons, rather let them understand after the fact what happened. I had nothing of value to leave them, aside from the house. Patrice took all of the money. I still had some checks coming in from work. Not full pay with my sick leave, but enough to make ends meet. My death, however, would leave Ben and John comfortable enough. I'd gotten my life insurance policy drawn up once I realized my fate.

Patrice would be gone a while. I knew that much. She did what she always planned to. Suck us all dry until she had her fill. I always wondered when that would be.

"Don't...don't tell John," I said between struggling breaths.

"He deserves to know," Ben protested, his arms limply hanging by his sides. He tossed the manila folder onto the coffee table that had taken every last bit of my energy to scrub clean.

"What he deserves," the words scraped and rattled up my throat. I coughed. Ben rushed over to kneel beside me, worry aging his childish features, "is a life." I looked over to a small framed photo that I kept on the TV tray beside my chair. I take a few deep breaths, preparing myself.

"She was pregnant with John here. I hold on to this because it's my last memory of before everything changed," I started coughing and gestured for him to hand me a handkerchief. We both ignored the tinge of blood when I pulled it from my mouth.

"Ben, I know I'm not much of a father, and I wasn't much of a husband, but I have always loved you all more than words could ever say. You're more of a man than I could ever be, and you accept people for who they are. You don't expect them to change to make your life easier. I won't be on this Earth much longer, and I just want to make sure that you know you've done enough. Don't stay here and rot away. You and John need to find your own happiness, be with someone who loves you and don't become what I have. I don't want either of you to feel obligated to stay with me. Whoever you become, know that I am proud of it."

Ben sat there, staring at the photo for a few more moments and finally looked up at me. The tears streaming down his face sparkled in the glow of the lamp across the room. My hope was that he understood what I was trying to tell him, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, my son slowly moved closer and gently wrapped his arms around my body. I felt him shudder when he noticed how thin I'd truly become, but gave into the embrace, knowing it might be one of the last times we will do this. It's odd knowing that you will die soon, but not certain when. We hugged and cried together for what seemed like hours. I was so tired. Ben wordlessly helped me to my bedroom and carefully guided me under the sheets.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep," he said, pressing a cool hand to my damp forehead. I hoped he would not grow to have any regrets about his life as I have. My eyes fluttered as I watched him take inventory of my bare room. The perfectly hung clothes in my closet. The dresser, neatly set up with my cologne and brush. Nothing was ever out of place. I imagine that in another life, I may have made a good husband to someone. My eyelids became too heavy to keep open, so I rested them shut, fearing what lay on the other side. I didn't know if I could ever be ready. I feel the bed give, the creak of the springs as Ben leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple, "You weren't all that bad old man." Despite myself, a tear escaped from the corner of my eye and slid down into my ear. Ben brushed it with a tissue and slowly slid off of the bed and left.