Free to Love

Chapter 22

Shawn

Mallory insisted that we go to my parents' house for Thanksgiving. She also insisted that we bring food. Standing in the kitchen for hours was too much for her, so instead, she curled up on the couch and walked me through every step for making the things we'd said we'd bring.

"Chop the sweet potatoes into cubes," she said.

I started to cut them. "Is this good?" I asked, holding one up.

"Too big. Maybe half that size."

I resumed the task, now cutting smaller cubes.

Eventually I'd created a sweet potato casserole, though it didn't look quite like Mallory's. I moved on to the green beans, which were much easier to make. When I was done, I joined my wife on the couch. The kids were on the floor building a block tower together.

"Cooking is hard," I remarked.

"It gets easier. You're a smart guy; you'll learn," she said.

I hated this kind of comment. What Mal was saying was that when she was gone, and I was the lone adult in our household, I'd have to learn how to cook. She didn't say it to upset me. I knew that. But it destroyed me any time something like this was brought up. I didn't like thinking about a future without Mallory, because I felt like there was no future without her. How would I ever be happy again if she were gone?

I hadn't given up all hope. There was a chance that she'd get strong enough to withstand more chemo. Maybe a different cocktail of chemotherapy drugs would do the trick. Miracles happened every single day. I had to cling to this glimmer of hope no matter how irrational it was.

A few hours later, we were in Pickering. The house was full of my family, and many of them had not seen Mallory for some time. My mom had obviously warned them about her condition, because everyone did a great job of not acting surprised when they saw her. Mal said she no longer cared about her appearance, but I know she hated being looked at with pity.

Mallory looked beautiful during dinner, despite everything. She was horribly thin and pale, but her eyes sparkled and she smiled nonstop. Her happiness was contagious, and I found myself smiling, too.

After we ate, I helped Mal up to my old bedroom for a nap. The extended family had all gone home. Gracie and Nolan were asleep in the family room with Aaliyah, so I joined my parents in the kitchen to help them tackle the monumental task of cleaning up.

When we were done, I sat down at the table with my parents.

"Mallory was in great spirits this afternoon," my mom said.

"It was really important to her that we come today. Honestly, I wanted to stay home, but she told me we needed to go."

"I think it's good you came. I'm sure she needed to get out of your home for awhile and enjoy the holiday," my dad said.

"I'm having a hard time enjoying anything these days," I said, my voice breaking. "It's Thanksgiving, but I'm not feeling very thankful."

My mom reached out and took my hand in hers. "You're allowed to feel bitter and angry. You have every reason to. What's happened to Mallory, and what it's doing to you and your family, is horrible. It's unfair. Go ahead and be mad."

I started to sob. My dad got up and grabbed a box of tissues.

My mom continued, "But Shawn, you also have a lot to be thankful for. Mallory's cancer doesn't erase all the positive things in your life."

"I know. And I keep trying to tell myself that, but it's hard. I don't have a very good perspective on the big picture right now. I can only focus on the cancer."

"I think that's normal," my mom said.

"I lay awake for hours every night trying to figure out why this happened. Why Mallory of all people? She was young and healthy and happy. Why her? What did she ever do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve this? I've honestly wondered if this was a punishment for something I did. Or is this some kind of sick price I'm having to pay for all my success?"

"You can't think that way, son," my dad said as he squeezed my shoulder. "Things like this don't happen for a reason. They just happen. You'll make yourself crazy trying to rationalize why Mallory got cancer. She wasn't handpicked because of anything either of you did. She grew a terrible cell inside her body and it took over. That's all."

I sighed. I knew my dad was right, but logic wasn't going to prevent the demons from entering my brain at night.

                                ~~~~~~

"Explain to me again why you are making costumes when we can just go buy them?" I asked Mallory who was sitting at her desk using a sewing machine she'd had me go buy for this project.

"My mom used to make my costumes and they were always the best. When I look at my family photos from Halloween, I get a warm feeling knowing that she put all that time in. I want Grace and Nolan to look back on this Halloween and have that same feeling."

The unsaid part of her answer was that she believed this was her last Halloween to do anything for her children, so she wanted it to be extra special. She knew not to say that out loud to me, but it was still there, hanging behind the spoken words.

For me, just having Mallory around on Halloween would make it special. The kids had no idea what was looming over us. They thought Mama seemed better now that she was done with chemo. Years from now, when we looked at the photos, I was positive they wouldn't be focused on the beautiful handmade costumes. They'd be thinking that it had been their last Halloween with their mama. I shook that thought from my brain. Maybe she'd be around next year. It wasn't impossible.

"You have a list for me?" I asked. I was running to the craft store for some additional supplies.

"Yep. I need tulle for Gracie's hat and more green felt for Nolan's spots. Maybe several different shades of green if they have them."

"Sounds easy enough, but I probably need to know what tulle is," I said with a wry smile.

Mallory opened her phone and pulled up a picture of the hat she was making.

"What color?" I asked.

"Pink or purple. I only need a yard, I think. Maybe get two yards just in case. The felt comes in squares. Get me five of those."

A week later, we were at my parents' neighborhood taking our princess and dragon trick-or-treating. Their costumes were so incredible that people were taking pictures of them.

Mallory couldn't walk far, so I pushed her in the wheel chair we'd recently acquired. This worked out well since our little dragon grew weary after an hour. He sat on his mama's lap and I pushed them both. Gracie couldn't get enough. She loved being a princess with a tall conical hat and a pink and purple dress with lots of jewels and sequins sewn onto it to make it sparkle. Nolan had pulled his headpiece off immediately and didn't really care much about his costume.

When we got back to my parents' house, Mallory was exhausted. My mom insisted that we just stay the night instead of driving home. I helped Mallory up to bed and then did the same with Nolan, who was sleeping on the floor next to us. After they were asleep, Gracie and I sorted through her candy.

Aaliyah texted me while we were separating chocolates from everything else. She sent me a screenshot of Instagram. Apparently several people had shared photos of my family. These were the first photos leaked of Mal in a long time and they showed just how sick she was. I knew it was a risk before we went out, and Mallory and I had discussed it. I'd hoped that no one in my own fucking childhood neighborhood would be so callous as to exploit my wife's cancer. I was wrong.

By the next day, all the gossip news sites had shared the photos. The speculation was that my wife was dying.