Peggy √ [Editing]

VI.

Margaret "Peggy" Faber

"Guys, I'm fine," I say with a sigh as Mom and Dad watch me anxiously. Ever since I got the re diagnosis, they've taken a lot of time off work to spend time with me. I love that they want to be with me but it's bad for them. Their anxiety has grown exponentially and it's not good for them to watch their daughter slowly die. I feel like I'm wasting away.

"I just don't like seeing you suffer," Mom says with a sad smile. Dad holds up the spoon and I open my mouth, allowing him to feed me. "You're already so weak and it hasn't been that long," she adds, referring to the fact that I'm so fatigued that I need help eating.

"Our girl's strong, Angela," Dad says. "We need to stay positive, love. We talked about this, remember?"

"I know, but it's so hard--"

"Lets talk about something else, shall we?" I ask hastily as I fight to keep my eyes open. "You're both still going on your anniversary trip, right?" I ask. Mom and Dad have been married for twenty years now and next Saturday would the anniversary of when they got married. They were talking about going to New York City and seeing some broadway shows, one of them being Hamilton.

"Well, about that sweetie," Mom begins slowly. I cringe. She really only ever uses 'sweetie' when she's about to deliver bad news. "We decided to cancel our plans indefinitely. We've agreed that you're more important--"

"I want you two to go," I interrupt. "It's you're twentieth anniversary. You've been together for two decades and you need to celebrate that. Yes I am sick, but you can't put your life on hold because of me. I want you to be happy, I want you to go and live your lives."

"Margaret," Dad says, sighing as he sets the bowl of soup to the side.

"Don't 'Margaret' me Dad," I say with a frown. "Please just do this. It's not good for either of you to be cooped up in the hospital. If you're worried about who will take care of me, just remember that the nurses here are phenomenal care takers. I can Skype you and Mom every night, just please don't put your life on hold because of me." My parents stare at me for a few moments before sighing.

"I guess it's a good thing we didn't cancel our tickets," Mom says. I let out a sigh of relief at this and stifle yet another yawn. "You're absolutely sure you don't want us to be here?"

"I'll always want you around, Mom," I say, rubbing my eyes. "But your life is important too. You know how I feel about all of this."

"Sometimes I forget how selfless you are," Dad says as he brushes some hair off my forehead. I feel a rush of sadness at the thought of me most likely losing it. We fall silent and my hand reaches out to grab his. "How are you and that boy doing?"

"Dad, you know his name is Harry," I say with a tired smile.

"I know, but I love seeing you smile every time you say his name," he replies with a quiet chuckle. "He's a nice kid."

"Yeah," I say, smiling again as I think about how kind he's been to me these past few days. He never fails to stop by after school, even if he has practice. He always brings me flowers and frozen yogurt with granola. He's even brought a few stuffed animals with me and hasn't been disgusted when I've thrown up from the nausea that I'll sometimes feel.

"Earth to Margaret," Mom says softly. She's genuinely smiling at me now. "You really like him, don't you?"

"I do," I admit as I begin to close my eyes. "I like him so much and he makes me really happy."