Tanner clapped his hands onto his knees. “Then I shall start at the beginning,” he said in some sort of strange accent. I raised an eyebrow, not sure how to react to his brand of humor. He looked down at the carpet and continued on, accent free. “You and I have been together since we were in diapers. If you take the shortcut, it’s only a five-minute walk between our houses. Our moms were close, well, before yours decided that vodka made a better friend than people do. We were in every class together growing up. We used to pretend to get married in our fort when we were little. Another one of our friends used to pretend to be the reverend. She even cut up one of her dad’s Hugo Boss shirts to make her ‘sacred robes’ and got herself grounded for a week, and after her parents told ours, the three of us didn’t see each other for the entire summer.” Tanner laughed nervously. He rested his chin on the back of his hand and sighed. “It feels really weird to try to explain us to you.”
“I can assure you that hearing it is probably weirder,” I admitted.
Tanner struggled, stopping and starting again, but he took a deep breath and continued, “We were fifteen when Samuel…happened. We had originally planned to wait to have…to be…physical, until we graduated.” He looked pained, as he tapped his sneaker on the floor. “But, then I got sick. Real sick.” He turned to face me. “Leukemia.”
I didn’t know how to react under the circumstances so I gave him a small smile and said, “I’m so sorry.”
He pressed his lips together then continued, “On the day they told me I might never see graduation, we moved up our plans. We were young and stupid, but we said our own made-up vows to each other right here in this room.” Even though the story he was telling was pulling on my heart strings, I felt removed from it. Like it wasn’t partly about me.
Tanner scratched his head and again looked through the open window. “I promised to always smash Cheetos into your sandwiches and you promised you wouldn’t forget me when I was gone. And then we…” he trailed off awkwardly, but quickly recovered, “…and then we made Samuel.” He smiled again, this time a large proud smile that told me he was genuinely happy with what we’d done.
And who we’d made.
“It’s a night I’m really hoping you’ll remember someday, because I may have been at death’s doorstep, but it was the by far the best night of my life,” Tanner finished. He folded his hands on his lap and with his chin to his chest he looked up at me, waiting for my response.
Unsure of what to say, I said the first thing that came to mind, “The Cheetos thing I still do,” I admitted.
Tanner offered me a small smile and an even smaller laugh. The emotional weight of what seemed like the most important part of our history together, obviously weighed on him heavily. “Are you still sick?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Much to your father’s dismay, I survived. Shortly after we found out you were pregnant I got accepted into an experimental treatment program in Colorado. By the time Sammy was born, I was back home and getting better every day. I still have to take some pills here and there, but the cancer is gone, and now they think I will live forever, like a vampire, or better yet, like a mutant,” he said, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue.
I bit my lip, wondering if I should even attempt to ask him the question on the tip of my tongue. “Do you think I can see him? Sammy? Maybe spend some time with him?” I asked. “It could help me remember more,” I added, hoping it would help Tanner say yes.
He waved his hand through the air as if my question was a ridiculous one. “Of course, Ray. You’re his mom. You don’t even have to ask.” Tanner reached for my hand but just as it was about to clasp over mine, he hesitated, before withdrawing it completely and resting it on his knee.
“Now can I ask you a question?” Tanner asked.
“Yes, it’s your turn,” I said.
Tanner chewed on the tip of his thumbnail. “You and the guy with the tattoos. You were living with him, right? And then when we came to get you, you guys were arguing, like you two were…” Tanner trailed off.
I didn’t want him to feel awkward so instead of forcing him to ask the difficult question, I volunteered the answer. “King. His name is Brantley King.” Saying his name made me feel like I could breathe, yet, at the same time, knocked the wind from my lungs. But that was King; a contradiction in every single way.