Weeks go by, and I try to focus on the present, on making every day count but at the same time, I am haunted by that looming deadline- the day I know my family and I will lose Mom and Avrielle. I try not to let it show, burying myself in daily routines, college classes, study groups, and even late-night outings with my mates. And every Friday I leave college to go home, stressing my dad- his words, not mine- to drop me off Sunday night or Monday mornings back to my dorm.
On the outside everything seems normal with me, but on the inside- pure turmoil. I feel this sickening buzzing inside my head all the time. My stomach is constantly in a dull nauseous ache, and my young self is self-medicating with over-the-counter tablets since moving up from Pepto.
To say I am stressed is an understatement.
Weekends are spent soaking up my mother's warm hugs and Avrielle's endless, teasing banter about me being needy and that I can't live without her by my side, via phone calls and I laugh. The ache in my chest stays, though, a persistent reminder of what's to come.
One evening, as my father drops me off at college, my father wearing an excited grin informs me. "Meg," he says, "we've been invited to a formal dinner. I'd like all of us there, it's a good opportunity to connect with some of my colleagues and their families."
My father is a private wealth manager.
I smile, relieved to have another reason to spend time with everyone. "When?" I can't help but smile because this means that he listened to me and had canceled the trip he was supposed to take with my mother in the next month. A 'romantic' cruise.
Selfishly I had begged them not to go. I needed to spend time with Mom and the trip would take two weeks away from me and her.
"Two weeks from now," he says, glancing at his planner. "It'll be a great chance for you and Avrielle to meet some new faces, too. And, well, you'll get to meet my new business partner."
Avrielle. This means he had gotten her to come home as well. Great- I loved it. Kissing his cheek, I nod yes.
The night of the dinner, I slip into a soft blue dress my mom picked out, its fabric gliding smoothly over my skin. Avrielle wore the same dress but in white. Liz wore white as well, but a cocktail dress, and mom was in her ever so elegant- pants suit self. Dad was in a moss-green tux. We all made a dashing picture- I know because I insisted we take a selfie.
When we arrive at the five-star venue, the air inside is buzzing with the low hum of voices and clinking glasses. My father beams as he shakes hands and introduces us to two colleagues, and their wives, all dressed in sharp suits and elegant dresses.
Liz is comfortable and waves at another table while my twin and I exchange glances. What was that about?
We learned what it was when my dad leads us over to a small group standing near the center of the room. "I'd like you all to meet my new business partner," he says, turning to a tall, distinguished-looking man with streaks of gray in his dark hair. Liz begins talking with one of the girls around her age, but my heart clenches and I stare at the older man my father is introducing, feeling my pulse quicken.
This is Gabe's father. The man who, in the future, would become my father-in-law. And next to him stands a woman with delicate features and a warm smile, her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a graceful twist. Gabe's mother.
"Douglas Adkins," he says, shaking my mother's hand warmly. His voice is steady, and there's a friendly glint in his eye. "Oh, and this is my wife, Linda," Douglas says, gesturing to his wife. She nods and smiles politely, her gaze moving over our family.
No, I was not supposed to meet them yet. This is nearly four years too early. I meet Gabe now? But where is he?
My mind races, struggling to keep up with the reality in front of me. These are the people who will be part of my future. They'll be grandparents to the child Gabe and I will lose. And even though they're looking at me now as a stranger, I can already see their faces so clearly in my mind, sitting at our future dinner table, toasting to Gabe's and my wedding. Though they do look younger here. Very much so- I guess either they don't know about the cancer yet or it has not begun to affect them yet.
Tears moisten my eyes when I see how seemingly youthful and happy they seem. Healthy.
"Douglas, Linda," I hear my dad say, "meet my daughters. This is Liz, Avrielle and Megara."
"Pleasure to meet you both," Linda says warmly. Her eyes linger on me for just a moment, and I wonder if she feels some strange familiarity, too, or if that's just my own imagination running wild.
I force a polite smile and manage, "Nice to meet you." My eyes scan behind them but no Gabriel to be seen.
We are escorted to our table where the conversation flows around me, with my dad and Douglas talking animatedly about work. I drift in and out, distracted, scanning the room. And then, just when I think I might be able to breathe normally again, I see him.
Standing near the bar, back to us, is a familiar figure. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair. I don't need him to turn around to know it's Gabe. The Gabe who, in my future, would kiss me goodnight, laugh with me over shared jokes, and eventually ask me for a divorce. The Gabe I've been trying so hard to forget.
Just then he turns around and catches me staring. He's younger, of course, softer around the edges, but it's unmistakably him.
Douglas glances in his direction, then waves him over and Gabe looks at him blinking from me to his father. He had this way of not averting his eyes from one person to another but closing his eyes and then boom- his eyes were on another. Like now.
"I'm sorry, he dislikes crowds like this. He opted to meet everyone after the meal," Douglas smiles as he speaks to us while Gabriel stands and straightens his jacket, sauntering over to us.
My heart pounds as he approaches, an easy smile on his face. He doesn't know me yet and doesn't have the slightest idea who I am or what we'll become. He's just here, and he's a stranger.
"Lee family," he says, "I'd like you to meet my son. Gabriel."