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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/958008-Take-This-Heart-of-Gold
Rated: 18+ · Book · Music · #2188679
Short stories for the Musicology Anthology Challenge 2019
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#958008 added July 31, 2019 at 4:09pm
Restrictions: None
Take This Heart of Gold
"Rummy!" Skip called to the weary card players around the table. The trio counted cards and declared him the official winner. His wife, Becky gathered the cards and slipped a rubber band around them as she stifled a yawn. The game had been his idea. A bit of fun amongst the sadness. Becky's mother winced in pain, and Becky checked her watch.

"It's been four hours since your last pill. Want me to grab you one?"

His mother-in-law, Sara nodded and Becky rushed to count out the required number of pills and fill a glass with water. It had been a long couple of months of Becky spending every waking hour at her mother's house since Sara's stage four cancer brought her closer to the end every day. Skip tried to bring their two children to see their mother and grandma as often as he could, but with Sara being so tired most days, it was hard. The children missed their mom, they wondered why mommy cried so often lately. They were on edge around her, not sure how to behave, what to do.

Skip yawned and stooped down to kiss Becky before heading home alone. He'd left their ten-year-old to care for the five-year-old, and he needed to get back and make sure they hadn't killed each other yet.

"Come back tomorrow at six o'clock for dinner. And bring the kids." Sara's sleepy voice spoke to him before he headed out the door. "I'm going to cook sloppy joes for everyone." Her proud face beamed at him.

"Okay. It's a date." He returned the smile and headed home. He didn't know how his wife did it every day. It brought him close to tears just seeing how frail and helpless his mother-in-law had become over the last few months.

Becky cried a lot late at night when she came home to sleep. If he were honest with himself, he felt an awful lot like crying just seeing his wife crumble like that.

Cancer was a bitch. That was the sad, honest truth of it all.

The next morning, Becky left early but reminded him about the big sloppy joe feast that her mother would be cooking for them. "Make sure the kids are dressed nicely. And please remind them to be good. We can't handle a lot of noise right now." He'd agreed, then hurried into the shower before heading off to his own workday.

The first thing Skip noticed that evening, with the kids in tow, was that his mother-in-law's house did not smell like sloppy joes. It smelled the same stuffy medicinal way it always did. He knew better than to knock, in case Sara was trying to sleep. Instead, he shushed the kids as he stepped inside, leaving his shoes on the front porch.

Though he'd been quiet, Becky shushed him anyway, as she sat in the dark, her tablet screen lighting up her face. "Today wasn't a good day. I'm going to cook soon, but I don't want to wake her."

She'd been crying again. She flashed him a look of apology as she set her device down and tiptoed into the kitchen. Sara's eyes were closed but she didn't look like someone who was comfortably sleeping. Her face was scrunched up in a mask of pain.

The air in the house was still, thick, and warm. Becky's usually confident frame sagged. She hadn't slept well in days, he knew that. He'd offered to help, but he knew there wasn't much he could do to lessen her load with his day job keeping him away every day. She pulled the package of hamburger out of the fridge and began to prepare the meal.

"I don't know if she'll even feel like eating. She feels terrible about everything. She had such a good day yesterday, she thought she'd feel up to cooking again." Becky whispered an explanation to him.

Skip nodded and gave his wife a hug. "Why don't you go sit down and rest a bit. I'll cook."

Becky didn't argue as she returned to her chair in the dark living room. Sara awoke at the sound of squeaky chair springs and winced.

"Is it time?"

Becky checked her watch. There was still an hour left before her mother could have her meds, but she nodded anyway. "Yes, it's time. Becky gave the medicine, Skip continued to cook, and the children sat stock-still, uncomfortable around their grandma. They knew that she would die soon, they'd never been this close to death, and they didn't like the way it smelled, the way it lurked in dusty corners, forcing them all to lie and pretend that everything would be fine in a few months.

Over dinner, Sara apologized for not treating them to her home cooking, and everyone pretended not to notice that she wasn't eating.

"Have you thought any more about the new experimental treatment?" Becky asked her mom. It was a risky option, that could offer more time overall, but had its share of downfalls.

"Honey, I think we've done all we can. Why paint this old house again?" She motioned to her skeletal frame as she spoke. Becky nodded and blinked away fresh tears. She cleared the empty plates away as well as her mother's full one, then rewarded her mom with a banana popsicle. Her favorite. Something she knew her mom would be able to eat no matter what. Sara's eyes lit up and she took the popsicle with more gusto than she'd shown all day.

Skip washed the dishes and put a movie on for the kids in the back bedroom. He'd always liked his mother-in-law, but he had a hard time seeing her now. The only reason he'd come over was that she'd invited him. He felt selfish and would have never admitted that to his wife since she didn't have a choice in whether she came here or not. He wondered how much longer the family could continue this way.

With the kitchen clean, Skip gathered the kids and snuck them out of the house, as not to waken their grandma who had drifted off again. He embraced Becky, noticing that she'd lost weight over the last few weeks. "I'll see you later."

Later, he waited for Becky to come home while enjoying the dark, quiet house. He thought about Becky and his mother-in-law, and how his wife would give everything she had, every waking moment of her life to make Sara's life a little more bearable. Becky had a heart of gold, but mostly he suspected that she knew her mother would leave this world soon, and she didn't want any regrets.

He also knew she couldn't sacrifice much more of herself, and he worried she'd already given too much.

When death did arrive, it came swiftly, stealing Sara away early one September morning, leaving behind a pile of angry regrets and empty banana popsicle wrappers.
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1,157 Words


Take this heart of gold and melt it down
I'll come around. I'll come around
I'm treading lightly in your eyes
And honey I can't live a lie
But a life without you could never steal me now
With so much time to spend
Why paint this house again?
When the floorboards creak and pull you from your slumber
Well I'd hold you 'til the end
But honey even oaks must bend
If we intend to stick with one another.
So take this heart of gold and melt it down
I'll come around. I'll come around
I'm treading lightly in your eyes
And honey I can't live a lie
But a life without you could never steal me now.
Out the door and down the drive
There's a part of me that tries
To keep that highway's call to me away
And another, further still,
That sadly never will
Feel at home no matter how long I may stay
So take this heart of gold and melt it down
I'll come around. I'll come around
I'm treading lightly in your eyes
And honey I can't live a lie
But a life without you could never steal me now.

© Copyright 2019 IceSkatingSugarCube (UN: jwhitedesigns at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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