Page 81 of Look on the Bright Side

On Wednesday night, Justin cooked dinner for the first time in months. He lit candles and poured them each a glass of wine.

“Larkby Christina Smith, I love you,” he said. “I’ve loved you with all I am since I was five years old, and every day, I love you more.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, too,” she whispered.

He kissed her then, smoothing away her tears with his thumbs. His lips had healed from their cracks, and though his mouth tasted a little strange from all the medications, and while he was still so thin, he was hers. Her Justin. The love of her life.

Dinner could wait. They went to the bedroom, hand in hand, and undressed each other, so gently. It was almost like their first time, and it had been so long. Their kisses were almost shy. Lark thought she might break under the weight of love and gratitude. This was how they were. This was their love in physical form, deep and eternal and pure. Soft sighs, the hum of desire, gentle hands. When they came together, tears slipped out of Lark’s eyes, the happiest, most grateful kind.

They were still them. The leukemia hadn’t stolen that. As long as they had this, they had everything.

•••

Being back home was wonderful. The weather was sparkling, and the sky was that special shade of Cape Cod blue, so bright and hopeful, as if nothing bad could possibly happen. On Thursday night, the whole family went to the Ice House, where she got a giant cheeseburger with bacon. Beth, the owner, brought out two bottles of prosecco and comped their desserts. Lark and Addie sat next to each other, Nicole on Addie’s other side. Harlow sat on Lark’s left, her arm around Lark’s shoulders. Grandpop was in fine form, making them all laugh, and Mom and Dad held hands and smiled at their offspring. Grammy’s cheeks were pink, Winnie seemed more relaxed and bickered amiably with Robbie.

Afterward, Lark FaceTimed Justin from the bottom bunk of her room. “How are you, sweetie?” she asked. “Surviving without me?”

“I’m great,” he said. “Mom and Dad cooked enough for a football team, and then we watched Iron Man.”

“Without me?” she said. “How dare you, sir!”

He laughed, then coughed, just once. “Listen, babe, I’m gonna do some work. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Is that cough new?” she asked, immediately on alert.

“Nope. I just had ice cream, and you know how cold food makes me cough sometimes.”

That was true. Long before the leukemia had returned, Justin coughed after ice cream. Vagal nerve irritation. “What flavor?”

“Coconut.”

“You cheated on me with Iron Man and coconut ice cream? Justin! It’s like an orgy there!”

He laughed. “It was vegan, so settle down. How about you? What did you have for supper?”

“I can’t tell you. I want you to respect me.”

He laughed. “You ate meat, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “Babe, it was so good. A cheeseburger from the Ice House. With bacon.”

“I’m so jealous.” His smile was so warm, his dark blue eyes so beautiful. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Have fun at the spa, honey. You deserve it.” He smiled and ended the call.

•••

After three hours of fragrant bliss at the Shui Spa on Friday, Lark floated to the dressing room, took off the fluffy robe and pulled on her clothes. She sniffed her arm and smiled, remembering Justin’s quip about returning sweet-smelling. She checked her phone, and the smile froze.

Nine texts, five missed calls. Just then, someone knocked loudly, then cracked the door. “Miss Smith, there’s an emergency call for you at the front desk, I’m so sorry. Please follow me.”

Lark followed him to the desk, mouth open, then swallowed, and took the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Theo, honey. Come right now. They think it’s fungal pneumonia.”

Fungal pneumonia. The floor dropped away.

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