Page 21 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

I knew.

“We’ll be lucky if he makes it past Christmas,” I replied. “If he can tell all the kids and grandkids at once, he’ll be absolved. He can go any time after that.”

She sniffled, and I nuzzled my nose into her neck.

“I can’t believe he’s actually going to die.” She continued to sniffle. “I don’t know. He just seems larger than life. I just can’t believe it.”

“Hoax and me…” I cleared my throat. “I think we’re the only ones that really hang out with him as much as we do. Our family loves him, don’t get me wrong. They’re gonna miss the hell out of him when he’s gone, but they won’t miss him like we will. Like the Dixie Wardens will.”

She started to run her hands through my hair. “Do you think he told them yet?”

I thought about it for a long moment before saying, “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should,” she suggested. “If you think he’s as bad off as he says…maybe he won’t have time to tell them. Give them a chance to come over tomorrow and say goodbye.”

I thought about it for a long moment before reaching for my phone.

I hit Silas’s number and pressed ‘call.’

Silas answered after two rings. Despite the late hour and the fact that it was now Christmas Eve, he didn’t sound like he’d been sleeping.

“Hello?” Silas Mackenzie, my grandfather’s club president, as well as Phoebe’s grandfather, said.

“Silas,” I said. “It’s Bayou.”

“I know, kid,” Silas replied, sounding amused. “What’s up?”

Kid.

Only he could get away with calling me that.

Drawing in a deep breath, I went to tell him, but the words stuck in my throat.

I must’ve made some weird sound, because Phoebe gently slipped the phone from my hands, pressed speaker, and said, “Granddad?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Silas’s voice softened. “What’s going on?”

She cleared her throat, then launched in.

“Dixie was diagnosed with cancer,” Phoebe started.

Silas inhaled sharply.

“And he kept it from us until the last possible moment,” she continued. “He told us today that he had a few weeks left, at most.”

I could hear Silas swallow as he said, “Goddamn that man and his secrets.”

I agreed.

Sometimes my grandfather was so hellbent on making sure that everyone else in his life was okay, that he forgot about worrying about himself.

“Hoax and Bayou think that he won’t make it past Christmas,” Phoebe continued. “They’re fairly sure that he’ll go once everyone leaves. If you want to see him one more time, I suggest you go do that now.”

“I’ll call the club,” he said. “Love you, Phoebe.”

“Love you, too, Grandad,” she replied.

The two of us sat in the silence of our bedroom as we both got lost in our own thoughts.

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