Chapter 9

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Once Frank was dressed I gave him the card. I let him read it in peace while I started making one for Lorraine as well. I got caught up in choosing colors and the next thing I knew Frank was giving me a hug. I nuzzled against his soft face and dropped everything to hug him back. I could feel his heart thumping hard in his chest and most of the bones in his spine. He didn't let go for a while and even when he did, he held my hand. His normal blue glow was back, maybe a little more purple. I watched him to see if he was okay; he seemed fine but he kind of looked ready to cry. I could understand that. I squeezed his hand.

"I love you, Frank," I told him.

Frank smiled at me and gave me his puppy dog eyes.

"I need to get packing, and you should too," he said, sounding a bit excited.

I watched him shuffle over to his bag and drag it back to the bed, having a little bit of difficulty staying in a stable upright position. I helped him sit down without falling over before going back to my card for Lorraine. Frank started talking again, partially to himself. He was pulling out shirts from his bag and exclaiming about how he thought he'd lost them. I liked how excited he sounded and it gave me something nice to listen to while I worked. The sound of Frank's stomach growling followed by a whine made me stop.

"Damn cramps," he said, clutching his belly. "Just when you think they're gone, they come back."

I watched him to make sure he was okay and kept working, keeping an eye on him as often as I could. After 15 minutes, he had a few piles on the bed that were his clothes and other personal belongings. He looked at all of it and then looked at me.

"Enough stuff to last me 3 months. I definitely know its a lot," he said with a giggle. "Jamia just wanted to be sure I was prepared."

I smiled at him and put the card on the side table. As I got up, I got some toast and gave a piece to Frank.

"I know its cold, but I want you to eat. And while you do that, tell me how you feel," I said, sitting next to him.

Frank took the toast and stared at it, then took a bite. He laughed softly and pushed a pillow against his stomach. He chewed the toast slowly before talking.

"First, can you get my juice? Second, are you a therapist now?"

I could tell he was joking, but I was genuinely curious. I got him his apple juice and got comfortable among the piles of his clothes.

"Thank you," he said before going on. "I feel okay. I mean, I know this is the hospital's way of saying "take him, we can't fix him", but at the same time, I'm so excited to go home, even if it is a death sentence."

I nodded in understanding.

"So you're here because Jamia couldn't take care of you at home, right?" I asked.

He nodded, eating a small bite of toast again. I noticed he would eat the crust first and then the rest, not leaving a single crumb. Frank noticed me watching him.

"I'm actually hungry, sorry," he giggled. "I can't eat but I want to, so bad."

He wiped his hands on his ripped jeans and sighed.

"Yeah, Jamia had a hard time dealing with me so she brought me here for temporary treatment until I either got better or died. I'm not dead or okay, but my wishes were to die at home, so that's where I'll wait."

Frank pushed the pillow further against his stomach and put the toast down on it. I took in his words and nodded slowly, guessing that it would probably be the end soon. Either way I knew being with Frank was the right thing if he needed help. Maybe I could help Jamia take care of him. I didn't care what I had to do as long as I was by his side.

"When do you think you'll die?" I asked, dreading the answer either way.

Frank rubbed his eye and tried to push his hair back but there wasn't nearly enough hair to push.

"That's a toughie," he mumbled. "I feel better but I'm heavily medicated. I could have just minutes to live and I wouldn't know it."

I stared at him wide eyed, tempted to grab his wrist and check his vitals. He could see the worry and fear I had once again.

"Don't worry, that scares me too," he sighed. "It scares us all. Last week my doctor said I've exceeded his expectations, but that might wear out soon."

I stared at Frank more, feeling sick. I didn't know what to say back to him so I just sat there. Frank breathed deeply and leaned in to hug me. I felt his soft touch and the throbbing of his organs. I knew I should have been more excited about leaving, so that's what I tried to talk about next.

"Do you think I'll like your house?" I asked him, desperate to change the subject.

Frank let me go but kept a hold on my shoulders, his eyes studying me to make sure I was alright. The thick black ring around his irises caught my attention and his soft Jersey accent helped me stay calm.

"Its a good house, kind of big. Its old and a mess but that's our home. I think you'll like it."

He moved to lay down and I put my head under his ribs, listening to the sound of the toast being digested. Frank moved the pillow and let me use his belly as somewhere soft to lay. His breathing was slowly putting me to sleep but I tried to stay awake to keep talking to him. I closed my eyes but still tried to watch him eat and drink his juice. Despite my best efforts, I fell asleep anyway.

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