Page 26 of Someone to Watch Over Me

“Wow,” Lydia says. “That’s awesome, Tom. I hope it works out for you guys.”

“I do, too, but again… The last thing either of us needs is any kind of drama with my sisters. Please. The health scare is enough without adding that to it.”

“Understood,” Cora says as Lydia nods. “I’ll fix it with her.”

They’ve worn me out with their emotional energy, but I don’t fault them for that. I’d be the same way if one of them were in this bed. None of us will ever forget the day our dad went to play golf and never came home. We’ve lived with the specter of sudden death hanging over us since we were kids.

What happened to me is our worst nightmare come to life. Luckily, my incident didn’t play out like my dad’s did, on the fifteenth fairway, long before cell phones and far enough from help that he was dead before EMTs arrived.

I have no idea how long I was on the floor before Lexi found me, but thankfully, she got there in time. I don’t remember anything about yesterday.

I cringe every time I think about her coming into the house and finding me that way. She doesn’t talk a lot about what it was like to care for a husband with ALS. Rather, she uses words likedreadfulandexcruciatingto describe that time in her life. My college friend documented his mother’s journey on Facebook, anddreadfulis an apt way to describe it.

With every new update, it seemed like she lost some other essential function.

What would it be like to watch the person you love the most decline that way while their mental faculties remained as sharp as ever? It would be torturous.

I can’t keep my eyes open, even though I’m worried if I close them, my sisters might take over my whole life. They’ve always thought they were the bosses of me, even Cora, who’s only two years older. Lydia was often put in charge of us after our dad died and Mom had to go back to work to keep a roof over our heads, as she put it.

The strain on her was enormous since my dad didn’t have life insurance.

On the night we first connected, Lexi told me her husband didn’t have life insurance either. Why would he? Most people don’t think about stuff like that in their twenties.

I did. Even though I’ve checked out fine at my annual cardiac workups, due to how my dad died, I’ve had life insurance since I was twenty-five. I don’t want my family burdened by funeral expenses if history repeats itself.

Cora is my beneficiary, not that she knows that. I was sort of hoping she’d never need to find that out.

It must be the medication that’s making me so tired that I’m sucked under before I can say another word to my sisters.

The next time I open my eyes, it’s much darker in the room, and Lexi is there.

I’m unreasonably happy to see her. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never came back despite her promises to stick around.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a bus or an eighteen-wheeler.”

She grimaces. “That bad, huh?”

“It could be much worse.”

“What’s the doctor saying?”

“That I’m doing great and already bouncing back quickly.” The doctor didn’t say that last part, but she doesn’t need to know that.

I can’t help but notice she looks fragile, which is new. I hate knowing I’m most likely the reason for that.

“Hey.” I extend a hand to her. “I’m okay. I swear.”

She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze but doesn’t hang on the way I wish she would. I want her to take my hand and never let go. We were making progress toward that before this happened, or at least I think we were.

Now? Who knows? Are we back to square one, or have we regressed into negative numbers? Before this happened, I wasn’t sure where I stood with her. Does she see me as only a good friend and roommate who stepped up for her when she needed a favor? Or does she see the potential for more with me the way I do with her?

I saw that potential from the first night we connected, when she told me her husband had died after a long illness.

“How’re you feeling?” I ask her.

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