Moving Forward - 15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Oh how I could go on in detail, narrating every single day of our lives together. Of course, I made a promise to myself to keep this strictly within the confines of reality to the best of my abilities and not embellish the tale as Scott did – at least not intentionally. The truth is time has a way of blending together. Even when I look back on many of my memories of Zach and Shannon when they were young I struggle to remember exactly how old they were, or where we were in our lives at that point.

I kept a journal, to an extent, although it was never as lengthy or detailed as Scott's, and I was lucky to remember it once a week, while he wrote in his almost every night before bed. Scott's old journals are a treasure-trove of the details of our life together, and I have to admit they've been a godsend writing all of this down.

However, the goal I set for myself was to tell the story of our lives together, and I still have so much time to cover. In the end, even if I could recall enough memories to detail the daily activities of our many years together, I would never be able to finish writing the story I sat down to tell. For the sake of ever actually finishing, I must push forward through time. Unfortunately, this means some things will feel rushed. Realize Scott, Zach, Shannon, and I had a wonderfully happy life together, even if things seem disjointed.

Scott and I, along with the Zach and baby Shannon quickly settled into a routine of work, school, friends, and spending time together. Looking back, it feels like it wasn't long before Shannon went through all the expected stages of development, although they never seemed to come fast enough at the time, especially the first time she spoke: "Da-da". She called both of us 'daddy,' which did lead to confusion as to whom she was speaking a few times. I remember more than one occasion where she would frantically call for 'Dad' from her bedroom, only to have the 'wrong' father to show up. Let me tell you, there's nothing worse in the middle of a teenage tantrum than the 'wrong dad' poking his head in the door to find out what was wrong.

Life wasn't completely idyllic, but it was about as close as it could get. Scott and I would have the occasional squabbles but were more in love than ever. The kids would argue with each other or with us, often over the pettiest of issues. But generally we were extremely happy. Our life wasn't entirely drama-free, but it was a far cry from our tumultuous separation and reconciliation. It may have been a tough decision at the time, but it was worth all the effort we put into it.

When Zach was thirteen, he told us at dinner he wanted to talk to us later after Shannon went to bed. Zach was ten years older than Shannon, so she would've been three. It's one of those things; I distinctly remember how old Zach was for that conversation, but I don't really remember Shannon's age. Other times, the opposite happens. A few times, I can't even remember where the events fell into our time frame. It all blends together over the years.

Anyway, Scott and I sat down on the couch with Zach in the chair across from us. Like usual, I casually slipped my arm around Scott as he leaned against me.

"So, what's up Zachy," I asked after a few minutes of silence.

For his part, Zach was staring at his shoes, and shaking a little, clearly nervous.

"It's ok, little buddy," Scott said encouragingly.

"Uh….um… Dad? Pops? Um… I think I might be… uh… gay."

Scott and I quickly exchanged surprised glances. We had started joking between the two of us about the furtive glances Zach was starting to give to girls when we were out in public.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked after a moment. "I mean, it's no big deal if you are. This just seems very out of the blue."

"I've thought about it a lot, Pops, and I'm sure. I really want to be gay," Zach replied.

Scott's body tensed at the same time as mine, noticing Zach's phrasing. I rubbed Scott's chest gently, trying to keep him quiet.

"Son, it doesn't matter to either of us if you're gay, straight, or somewhere in between. Scott and I will always love you no matter what, and there's nothing you can say that would change that. So if you're gay, then you're gay, and we're so happy for you," I said, mustering some false enthusiasm.

We talked with Zach for a while about his newly announced sexuality and what that would mean, before we all called it a night.

"And he wants to come out at school?!" Scott exclaimed as we were brushing our teeth.

"Hun, it'll be ok. I'll call the principal in the morning. You and I both know nothing's going to happen at school. I mean, you remember the backlash from both the teachers and the other parents when the one kid in fourth grade was picking on Zach for having two dads, right?"

"Yeah, but Zach's not even gay!"

"We don't know that. He might be. He's just beginning to hit puberty. For all we know, he's just figuring himself out."

"Yeah, it's possible. But you see how his eyes bulge out of his head when there's a scantily clad woman on TV, or a cute girl walks by. Hell, he can't stop checking out all the women jogging in Piedmont Park, but he barely pays attention to all the hot guys out for a run. You know, the ones that catch your eyes," Scott added, teasingly.

"And all the hotties in the park could all walk into the house at the same time, bend over, and beg me to have their way with them. Know what I'll do?" I asked in a grin.

"Sprain yourself?"

"Maybe, but only as I drag my hunk of a husband to bed," I said with a growl, picking up Scott and carrying him back into the bedroom, tossing him on the bed before climbing on top of him and attacking his lips with mine.

Clothes were quickly discarded and tossed about the room hurriedly. I kissed my way down Scott's chest before taking him deep into my mouth. It wasn't long before he was grabbing my head and pulling me back up for a kiss, wrapping his legs around my waist. He reached between us and guided me into him, throwing his head back and moaning in pleasure as I entered him. From there, passion overtook us. While our sex life had become somewhat routine over the years, this was one of those times where we completely let ourselves go wild. Name the position and we were in it – at least once. And everything I did to him, he made sure to do to me.

Ninety minutes later, Scott was idly playing with my chest hair, which by that point was matted with sweat and other bodily fluids. My arm was wrapped around his back as I caught my breath after a rousing bout of lovemaking that left both of us completely satisfied.

"You know he's not gay, right? Not really, anyway," Scott said, breaking the silence.

"Please tell me you weren't thinking of Zach while we had sex?" I asked him with a smile, kissing his forehead.

"No, I'm just still stuck on this."

"I think it's a new phase of hero-worship or something. Both of his dads are gay, and he wants to be like his dads. Therefore, he wants to be gay. Those were his words."

"So what do we do?" Scott asked after a few minutes.

"You're the one with the natural parental instincts. It's usually me turning to you for advice."

"Yeah, but I don't want him to be someone he's not in an attempt to make us happy."

"Maybe we should just let it play out. If he's gay, then great; if he's just trying to make us happy, he'll realize soon enough he's not really gay."

We didn't have to wait long. Sure enough Zach came out at school, proudly telling anyone who would listen that he was gay. About two months later, he practically skipped to the car when I picked him up.

"Dad! Dad! Guess what?!"

"I...um…"

"I got a date!" he answered before I could even form a thought.

Sure enough, another boy in school had asked him to go the movies with him on Friday as a date. Zach was in seventh grade, and the boy, whose name is unimportant, and I can't remember all these years later, was in eighth grade. My mind immediately flashed to cleaning guns I didn't own when this boy came to pick up my Zachy so I could scare the crap out of some guy who might have bad intentions towards my precious son.

Instead of voicing my irrationalities, I had the mental fortitude to simply respond, "That's great!" as if I had been excited by the news. I'm not sure how I did it.

The night of the date came, and both Scott and I were mild basket cases when we dropped Zach off at the theater. Well, I was the only one 'mild' could apply towards. Tom and Tina had agreed to watch Shannon, so we had a date night of our own. Zach went into the movie, and Scott and I browsed the nearby shops. Only about an hour later, both of our phones beeped with texts.

"Come get me. Bad night."

We rushed over to the movie theater, and found our son sitting on the sidewalk, crying.

"What's the matter, bud?" Scott asked quietly, sitting next to him.

"He tried to kiss me during the movie," Zach said quietly, leaning into him.

"Well it was a date, wasn't it?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I didn't like it. I don't think I'm gay. Please don't hate me."

The movie was nearly over by the time Scott and I had calmed Zach down to the point he was willing to walk to the car and go home. Sure enough, he only wanted to be gay. Our son was definitely heterosexual through and through. We never even met Zach's 'boyfriend', which didn't even last a single date.

Over the years, we slowly started seeing Shannon's birthparents, Brandi and Deshawne, less and less. By the time Shannon was six, we only saw them once a year on Shannon's birthday. By that point, they were married, and had a son. Brandi had found a job doing hair and makeup, and Deshawne's landscaping business had exploded. When Shannon was four, he dropped the lawn maintenance element of his business to focus on that. The last time we saw them was Shannon's eighth birthday. Brandi was very pregnant when she told me that she and Deshawne weren't going to come to visit again.

"I don't understand, Brandi, she's your daughter. Don't you want to be in her life?"

"That's just it, Noah, she's not my daughter. I mean, I gave birth to her, but she's your daughter. You and Scott are her parents. Every time we see her, we know her less and less. And it is what it is. Y'all have your life, and we have ours."

"Yeah, but if you just spent more time with her…." I started to respond.

"If we spent more time with her, it'd just be harder. I made the right decision to give her up, and I wouldn't change that for the world. You and Scott gave us so much. We weren't ready to be parents. Hell, we was just a couple of stupid kids. You gave us a life. We're successful, and we're happy. We both love Shannon, but it's better on all of us to not be in her life."

"Are you sure?" I asked, hoping I could find a way to change her mind. Shannon loved the two of them and always looked forward to them coming for her birthday. However, I could see in Brandi's eyes she had made her decision.

"I am. Deshawne and I have talked a lot about it," she said with finality

"Ok, but there's one thing you're going to have to do. You and Deshawne have to be the ones to tell Shannon. She's going to have questions, and it's only fair if you answer them, because you'll do a lot better than Scott or I will."

And they did. All five us cried and hugged and said our goodbyes. Shannon seemed to understand at the time, but there were a few times in the years to come where she would ask us why her birthparents didn't love her enough to visit, and that broke my heart. I wasn't entirely surprised by their decision. Scott definitely wasn't. He had seen this coming for years. The only thing that surprised him was he half expected them to just stop communicating with us and drop off the face of the earth.

Early on, we had tried to be one big family, and include Deshawne and Brandi as often as possible, but we came from two different worlds, and neither they nor we were entirely comfortable in socializing in each other's circle. I'm sure it was also difficult to see their daughter, even knowing they made the right choice to give her up. Hell, by the time Shannon was four, they had started telling Shannon to call them 'Auntie Brandi' and 'Uncle D'. I'm sure she vaguely remembers her oldest biological brother, but he was too young to remember her. Even then, she was always introduced to her 'cousin'. Considering how Shannon's biological family was a big, tight-knit community, it was a shame she was cut out of it, and I would still give anything to be able to have provided that for her. We never kept the fact she was adopted, or who her birth parents were, from her. We really wanted to make something work to keep Brandi and Deshawne in our lives. In the end, though, they did what they thought they had to do. As Brandi put it, 'it is what it is.'

Of course writing about Shannon's eighth birthday reminds me that Zach would've been eighteen. So let me backtrack and talk more about Zach's teenage years. Man, Scott would kill me with all these really horrible transitions.

I already wrote about how Zach tried to come out to us as gay, in a strange attempt to be like his dads. Obviously we quickly accepted our son when he turned out to be straight. Scott and I had joked briefly about threatening to throw him out if or when he realized he wasn't gay, and it had been amusing, but even though we regularly took family jokes a hair too far, that was too much, even for us.

We had braced ourselves for Zach to turn into a true hellion as he entered puberty, but he honestly wasn't that bad. Sure, he was sarcastic and would talk back to us, but that wasn't much different than before he entered his teen years. He never outwardly showed too many signs of being embarrassed to be seen in public with his dads, which was far different than either Scott or I had been at his age. I remember wanting to die of embarrassment going to the mall with my mom when I was in high school.

He started playing football in middle school. I tried to talk him out of it. He was still a bit short for his age, but he really wanted to do it. I guess that's another example of wanting to be like his dad. Granted, he had a major growth spurt just before entering high school, and quickly became one of the tallest kids in his class. By the time he finished growing, he ended up being six foot four; an inch taller than me.

I'll never forget the first time Scott called Zach 'Little Buddy' once Scott had to look up to see into his son's eyes. Granted, Zach was a bean pole. He had shot up seemingly overnight, and he didn't seem to have gained a single pound in the process.

"Pops, I'm not so little anymore. Didn't you promise me once that I could call you that once I was the taller one?" Zach asked, his lips turning up with a hint of a smile as his voice broke in that awkward teenage way.

Scott's jaw fell, and he stammered a bit trying to think of a response. I was surprised as well, since Scott had made that promise to a scared little four-year-old who had just had his life turned upside down.

"Hah! For once in my life, I stumped the great Scott Hudgins," Zach exclaimed excitedly, pumping his fist in the air.

"Well, I guess I could start calling you what you are," Scott said, trying to regain his rightful place as King of Quick Wit.

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Big Pain in My Ass," Scott shot back, throwing a couple fake jabs at Zach's stomach.

"Ouch, Pops, I'm hurt," Zach joked, clutching his stomach.

"No, but seriously, you want me to stop calling you Little Buddy?"

"Nah, I like it, Pops," Zach said, giving Scott a hug. He then made a huge show of kissing Scott's forehead. "Besides, now it's ironic, since you're the shortest guy in the family. And chances are Shannon'll catch up before too long too… Shrimp."

"You know you're not too big to take over my knee, little one," Scott retorted, smacking Zach playfully upside the head.

Zach's awkward phase was fairly short lived, and he quickly filled out his frame. For a small private school, his school offered quite the variety of athletics, and it seemed like he did it all. Zach was a solid athlete and held his own in track, wrestling, soccer, and swimming, but the only sport in which he really stood out was football. Despite starting off being something of a runt in middle school, by his junior year of high school he was the starting quarterback.

As a high schooler, Zach was a well-mannered teen. He frustrated us a bit because he never quite pushed himself as hard as he could. We knew he was capable with a modicum of effort to be a straight 'A' student, but he was satisfied with a couple 'B's every semester. Clearly they were not bad grades, but it was one of the few things I distinctly remember arguing with him about during those years. We wanted him to at least try to study for the better grade, but he was satisfied coasting for the easier way out.

Zach was something of a social butterfly, too. He seemed to be good friends with just about everyone in school. He was popular with the girls, although I only remember him going on a handful of dates, and I only remember a couple girls he dated for more than a few weeks. He seemed to prefer to be in groups of friends, going to the mall, or whatever kids would do. He never gave us a reason not to trust him, and would always let us know where he was going and who he was with.

At the same time, he was a teenager, and he was far from a perfect kid. There were a couple times he stumbled home from a party, clearly drunk. One time, he even smelled of cigarettes. Oh man, did Scott rip into him that night. I think that's the only time I remember Scott and Zach really getting into a big fight. Of course, I couldn't help but agree with Zach that Scott was a bit hypocritical to yell at him for smoking when we all knew Scott's attempts to quit had never been completely successful, but as much as I'm jumping around, I don't want to get ahead of myself. At the same time, it was one of the few traits or habits I wanted to ensure Zach never picked up.

After arguing back and forth for several minutes, Zach stormed up to his room, slamming the door behind him. Scott started to follow, but I stopped him.

"Scott, no. You're still angry, and he's still angry. It'll just end badly. I'm going to give him a few minutes to cool off, then I'll go talk to him."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't like it though. What the hell was he thinking?"

"He's seventeen. Chances are, he just wasn't."

"What if he gets hooked, or worse – actually wants to start smoking?" Scott asked, worried

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Hell, I have an idea, if he does. You have any smokes on you?"

"Umm….not on me. There's… uh… a pack in the garage," Scott admitted with a gulp. "Why?"

I figured Scott had some nearby. His smoking had become something of a 'don't ask, don't tell' sort of thing. I very rarely could tell he had been smoking, but occasionally I would catch a whiff of it on his clothes, or a faint taste of it on his mouth. Scott's first attempt to quit had lasted over a year. Since then, he would announce he was quitting again, but it seemed to last about six months or so before the questionable ten-minute disappearances to the backyard would resume. I never pressed the issue, although looking back, I wish I had tried more. I'm not sure how much it mattered, though, because the damage had probably already been done.

"Scott, babe, how much are you smoking?" I asked him, bringing it up for the first time in years.

"No more than two a day. Most days, I don't have any. A pack lasts me at least two weeks now," he replied with a hint of pride in his voice. When we first started dating, he had been smoking at least a pack a day.

"Good. I'm not suggesting you stop cold turkey, but I'd really like it if you kept cutting back," I said gently, not wanting to pressure him.

"I'm still working on it, Noah," Scott replied, anger slightly tingeing his voice.

"I know you are. That's why I've never pushed," I said quietly, not wanting this to escalate into the fights we'd had early on when I brought up his bad habit.

"You never answered my question, though," Scott said, changing the topic. "Why did you ask if I still had cigarettes?"

"Well, you said you and Steve never smoked in the house, because you both hated the smell of stale smoke. I figured if Zach really wants to smoke, we can make him finish the pack, sealed in his room. He'll get a bit sick from the nicotine, and he'll have to deal with the stale smoke smell for several days as a reminder."

"One of two things will happen. Either he'll never touch a cigarette again, or it'll backfire and you'll get him hooked," Scott said with a laugh.

It turns out, I didn't need to worry about it, but I'm getting a bit ahead of myself again.

Slowly, I made my way up the stairs, and I quietly knocked on Zach's door.

"Who is it?" Zach asked softly. It sounded like he'd been crying, and my heart melted for my boy.

"It's just me," I responded.

"You can come in, Dad. Just not Pops," he called out.

I opened the door, and saw Zach lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow. There's nothing worse than seeing your nearly-adult son so distraught he's in tears.

"You ok, Zachy," I said, sitting down next to him.

"He must hate me," he said with a soft sob.

"You know he doesn't. We never really talked much about it, but you know how hard he's been trying to quit smoking, it's been years and years, but he just doesn't quite have the willpower to kick it for good. He just doesn't want you to make the same mistake he did and get addicted to them," I said, rubbing my son's back.

"I won't, Dad."

"You want to tell me what happened tonight?"

"So we all went over to Mike's, because his parents are out of town. Someone managed to get some beer, so we were all drinking. I know, I shouldn't drink. It just kinda happened… I'm sorry, Dad."

"Well, it'd be hypocritical of me to give you too hard of a time for drinking in high school. It's not like I never partied. Hell, based on what I've witnessed, I partied harder than you do."

"It's not like it's a regular thing, Dad. Every now and then, it just kinda happens."

"I know. But promise me that next time it happens, you'll call me when you're ready to come home. No more driving home after you've been drinking."

"Yeah, I promise," Zach said, sitting up next to me and wiping his eyes. He laid his head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around his back.

It brought back memories of every time he'd ever been upset as a child. Then it struck me that my little boy was now taller than me, and nearly an adult. My mind drifted as I thought back to all the happy memories of him as he grew up.

"You still with me, Dad? Want me to keep going?"

"What?" I asked snapping back to the present. "Oh, yeah, so you and the guys were drinking…"

"There were a few guys there I didn't know. A couple of them were smoking when I went on the deck for some fresh air. They asked if I wanted one. I was a little drunk, and had never smoked before, so I said 'sure'. It was gross, Dad. It tasted like shit, and I couldn't stop coughing. I thought I was gonna puke. I didn't even smoke a whole one, I swear."

I could tell Zach was telling me the truth. I know most parents think their kids are honest and good children and refuse to recognize the lies, but I really don't think Zach ever really tried to pull one over on us. I think a lot of that had to do with everything we'd been through together as a family. When Scott left, Zach was destroyed by the fact Scott lied about never leaving. When Scott came back, the three of us made a promise to never lie to each other, and we all kept it. Overall, I think it made us grow closer as a family.

"So Scott and I don't have to worry about you stealing his smokes?" I joked.

"Hell no!" Zach exclaimed.

"Good. Now go downstairs and make up with your father. You two need to talk this out."

Zach did as I said, and they made up. I kept my side of the bargain with Scott and never brought up the smoking again, but looking back, I'm not sure I ever caught another whiff of smoke on him again after that night. But as I said, the damage had been done…

Zach was an outright angel compared to Shannon as she grew up. She was outspoken with a quick temper, especially with people other than us. That makes her sound like a bad kid, but she wasn't. It's just that Zach was so eager to please and quick to adjust to new situations, while she wasn't.

Her second week of kindergarten, she got suspended for fighting. As it turns out, a couple of her classmates were bullying her when the teacher wasn't looking. When she first told Scott and me about it, I thought it was because she mentioned she had two dads, but it turns out it was because she was black. Up until that point, we had never thought of her as anything other than simply our daughter, so it was quite the wake-up call. We quickly got her teacher and principal involved and the situation was dealt with, but we realized for the first time that raising Shannon would involve extra challenges. Neither of us knew what it was like to be black. But we relied on friends for advice and support, and did the best we could.

Zach turned into a handsome young jock in high school, and Shannon turned into a beautiful young athlete as well. She was big into cross country and field hockey, and excelled at both. Her freshman year of high school, she sat us down and told us she was a lesbian. Unlike when her brother attempted to come out, we weren't surprised, and we accepted her unconditionally. Even though she was ready to tell us, I'm not sure if she ever came out at school. She had a large group of friends, but I always got the impression she felt out of place as one of the few black girls in the school, and one of the few students with two dads. We were very careful to pay attention to anything from her that might indicate she felt out of place or was bullied, but we never got the impression either of those were the case.

Shannon partied harder in high school than Zach did. We tried to establish a curfew, but she regularly broke it. Nearly every weekend she and her friends found a party to go to somewhere. Most of those times, she came home drunk. At various points, we grounded her, took her car keys, or other various forms of punishment. The only thing that was successful was taking her cell phone from her, although a couple times, she even circumvented that by purchasing a prepaid phone. She was as sharp witted as Scott, and when she would talk back, it was often far harsher than the usual banter the other three of us usually had. I make it sound like she was a little hellion, but that's not really an accurate description. Generally, she was a good kid, but the issues at home by the time she entered high school made it less surprising that she acted out as much as she did. Towards the end of high school, she calmed down, and grew into the smart and successful woman who I am so proud of today.

Zach went to the same college Scott had gone to. I pushed for him to stay local, but he fell in love with Scott's Alma Matter as soon as he'd stepped out of the car on our exploration of college campuses. He had decided to stick with football, and was good enough that several schools had offered him scholarships. The moment he received one from Scott's school, the decision was made.

Dropping our son off at a school six hours away was hard on both Scott and I, although Scott took it far better than I did. Of course, Scott, Shannon, and I were his biggest fans and present at every single home game, and at least one of us was present at the away games, depending on our schedules. We always took him, and any friends that wanted to join, out to eat before we left to come back home. We never got the complete picture of his life in college, but we got to always have a sense of who his closest friends were at the time, and met several of his girlfriends over the years.

By his senior year, it was clear he had met 'the one'. He and Joanna were inseparable, and we would watch them holding hands, sitting too close, and whispering in each other's ears. Shannon would always make little noises of disgust, although that was probably the ten year age difference between the two siblings talking. While we had met other girlfriends, most were fleeting, but it became clear early on Joanna was someone very important in Zach's life, and he was quickly on his way to falling in love.

For his final Spring Break, we offered to send him on a trip, but he told us he wanted to bring Joanna home with him for the week. She had never been to Atlanta, and he wanted to show her the city. We enjoyed getting to know our son's girlfriend, and it was obvious she would one day become our daughter-in-law. Zach was getting a degree in marketing, and he spent a couple days with us at the office, taking the time to see how the day-to-day business operated. Although we had never explicitly talked about it, we knew Zach would be welcome to join the family business when he finished college.

It was during that week I first noticed Scott's health was declining. He looked tired constantly, and had developed a serious cough. Actually, it was Shannon that first pointed it out to me. I guess it was so gradual I had never noticed.

After Joanna and Zach left for School, Shannon and I – mostly Shannon, for the record – convinced Scott to go to the doctor. I was lounging on the couch when he returned from his appointment. He sat down next to me, white as a ghost.

"Everything ok?" I asked, putting my arm around him.

Instead of leaning into me, Scott actually pulled away. He didn't answer.

"Scott, what's wrong?"

He sat in silence for several minutes. I could see tears forming in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Noah," he finally said, barely a whisper.

"What is it? What did the doctor say? Whatever it is, we'll get through it together," I told him. I reached out to rub his back, but he just pulled away again.

"I should've listened to you, all those times you begged me to quit. I stopped smoking after the fight with Zach. I thought I was fine…. But…."

It was my turn to go pale. He hadn't said it. I still needed him to actually say it, but I at least knew what the diagnosis was.

"Shit, Scott… how bad?"

"They don't know yet. It's definitely lung cancer, though."

I reached for him again. He still tried to pull away, but this time I wouldn't let him.

"Scott, we'll figure it out. I love you. We'll get through this. We've gotten through worse."

"Why? I mean, I did this to myself," he said, breaking out in a sob. I wasn't close behind him.

"Yes, you did. But I'm not going anywhere. You have me, you have Shannon, and you have Zach. From everything we've seen, I'm pretty sure you have Joanna, too. It's going to suck, and it's going to be hard, but we'll get through this as a family, like we always do. You're stuck with us, and there's no running away this time."

And it was hell, for all of us. The cancer was fairly serious, but it had yet to metastasize from his lungs, which was a good sign. Over the next several months, the doctors removed as much of the cancerous growths from his lungs as they could. However, they were not able to get all of it, and Scott underwent heavy radiation and chemo therapy, which continued for the next year. He lost his hair, and more importantly his sense of humor. I mean, he tried, but the treatments left him so weak he was little more than a shell of his former self.

Zach graduated college, and he and Joanna moved into an apartment near us. As expected, Zach started working with me at Hudgins Design. Scott never officially quit, but all of his tasks were reassigned to others. Before long, Zack and Joanna got engaged. Scott didn't even want to attend the wedding. At the time, he was so weak he was confined to a wheelchair in public, because he was too tired to walk for more than a few minutes. We ganged up on him, and wouldn't give him a choice. Zach even surprised him by insisting on a brief father/son dance at the reception.

Throughout it all, I was unwavering in my support and love. It was hard, but we got through it. I mentioned earlier that Shannon was a fairly rebellious teen. She was twelve when Scott was diagnosed with cancer and fifteen when he was finally declared in full remission. We both did our best to give Shannon all the attention we could, but honestly, I was focused far more on my husband and his recovery. We let a lot slide with Shannon. Of course, her rebellion was just one more thing we had to deal with, but I understand why she acted the way she did.

It took Scott a year or so after doctors announced he was in remission to pretty much return to his old self. On top of the physical toll, he became very depressed. Fortunately, he was willing to talk about it, and we saw therapists – both together and separate. I also mentioned Shannon became less rebellious as high school started wrapping up. I believe a lot of that had to do with Scott's recovery.

Shannon's senior year of high school also sparked another development. Scott and I became grandfathers. Joanna and Zach had twin boys, Colton and Colby – or as they were referred to whenever they visited us, the Destructive Duo. I think having grandkids nearby really pulled Scott out of the very last of his funk, and brought him back as much as possible. He was still weaker than he had been, and tired more easily, but it was wonderful to finally have my husband back to the sarcastic asshole I was used to dealing with.

Shannon graduated with honors, and went to an all-girls school not far from us. She was something of a player with the ladies, and I swear at least every other week, she brought a new girlfriend home to meet the parents. Each time, they were introduced as 'the love of my life'. Every week, both of us had to bite our tongues and not bring up the stereotype of lesbians moving in together after a first date.

Her junior year, however, something changed. For a month or so, we hadn't heard from her. Then she called and asked if she could bring someone for dinner. The way she asked was different. She even warned us to be on our best behavior. I shouldn't have told Scott that, since he took it as something of a challenge, but it was clear, this new girl, Melissa, was here to stay, matching Scott wit for wit. Two months later, Melissa had been by several times for dinner. By the beginning of Shannon's senior year, they were engaged.

Scott never went back to work again with Hudgins Design. Instead, he spent much of his days with our grandkids, or just finding projects around the house. He was happy with it, and never seemed bored or idle. I think after everything he'd been through, he had had enough of the rat race and just wanted to enjoy life to the fullest. We were fortunate we never had to worry about money, so I never felt the need to push. I even considered retiring early, but every time I gave myself an impromptu vacation, I found myself quickly growing bored and needed something to do.

As Shannon's graduation approached, the five of us – meaning Shannon, Melissa, Zach, Joanna, and me –noticed Scott's health seemed to be declining again. I kept pushing, but he kept telling me everything was fine. It wasn't until Shannon called, telling us she had completed her last final, that he finally told me the truth over dinner.

"Noah, I've been lying to you for the past few months," he said sadly, reaching across the table and taking my hand.

"What do you mean?" I asked nervously.

"You keep asking how I'm doing, and I keep saying I'm fine. I'm not."

"Shit. Scott… How long?"

"Six months… maybe a year, depending on how aggressively they treat it."

I felt like the wind was knocked out of me.

"But why…"

"Because you would have told Shannon. And she would have wanted to drop everything to be there for me. And you would've let her."

"But…"

"Noah, I've been in and out of doctors’ offices nonstop for the past decade. This one's for real. The cancer started metastasizing when it was too small to be detected. By the time they found it, it was too late. I didn't want her to screw up her senior year when there's nothing that can be done. I've been fighting this for so long. I don't know how much more fight I have left."

"Scott, you have to fight. For us. For our children. For our grandchildren."

"But that's just it. I've been to every oncologist I could find. They all say the same thing. I have about six months to a year left to live. Six months if I focus on living my life. A year if I decide to fight. From everything I've read and experienced, the last several months of fighting the cancer will be nearly impossible for everyone. I don't want to fight."

"So you're just giving up, then?"

"No, Noah. I'm not giving up. I'm dying. It's that simple. I just have a choice as to how long I have left, and how much life I have left to live. I don't want to spend the next year just going from treatment to treatment. If I have to choose between a year of debilitating nausea and pain from treatments or six months surrounded by the people I love the most, I choose love."

"Scott… there has to be something…"

"There isn't. The best any doctor has come up with is pain management. I want to be able to spend the next six months with our grandkids, with Zach and Joanna, with Shannon and Melissa, and most importantly with you. We've had an amazing life together, despite all the things we've been through. This is just our final adventure. And I want it to truly be an adventure."

I smiled weakly, wiping away the tears streaming down my face.

"I want that too, Scott, but I don't want to lose you."

"I know, love, but it's going to happen. Please, let it be on my terms and not out of a misguided attempt to get more time with me. You remember how badly the cancer treatments wracked my body last time. It'll be worse this time, and there's almost no chance they'll do anything more but give me a little more time."

"Is this what you want?"

"Noah, what I want is to not have cancer. What I want is to grow old with you. We've had an incredible thirty years together, and I want thirty more. But I can't get that. So I'd rather have six wonderful months with you as opposed to another year where I'm in excruciating pain and regretting every breath I take. If I thought I could beat it again, I'd choose an aggressive treatment, but this time, the cancer is going to win."

I went with Scott to multiple oncologists, who all said the same thing he explained to me. I understood where he was coming from. I couldn't even disagree. With the near-zero likelihood of survival, it was the best of two horrible options. We called a family meeting to tell Zach and Shannon the news.

Shannon and Melissa immediately announced they were going to rush their wedding prep so Scott could attend. He gave me a wry, knowing look when they said that.

"And that's why I waited to tell anyone the cancer had returned until you graduated," he said, trying to make a joke.

"Dad, you know I would've dropped everything for you. I could've gone back at any time to finish school."

"And it took your father five years and meeting me before he ever got around to going back. I didn't want you to shortchange your future."

"I know, Dad. But you're going to be there for my wedding. I mean, otherwise I'd have no one to walk me down the aisle!" She said, giving Scott a hug.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" I asked, unable to suppress a grin. "I love you too, sweetie."

"Ugh… Dad, you're impossible! You know what I mean! Besides, I have two arms, don't I?" Shannon exclaimed smacking my arm, but then leaning in for a hug as I kissed her forehead.

"So…um… Pops… Any clue how you want to spend your time?" Zach asked quietly. There was a crash in the other room, and Joanna quickly darted off to survey the damage the two five-year-olds had caused.

"Noah and I were thinking a big family trip this summer, all eight of us. I was hoping to finally get back to Europe. Noah and I kept talking about it, but it never materialized."

"That'd work for me and Joanna. I think my boss will forgive me if I take some personal time," he said, winking at me. "I will need to look into passports for the twins, but that sounds great."

"Count us in, too, Dad! Mel and I spent Spring Break in Cabo, so we're up to date."

So that's exactly what we did. Melissa and Shannon had a small wedding ceremony. Instead of a honeymoon, the eight of us flew to Europe. For two months, we explored the continent. Sometimes, people would venture out on their own for a few days or a week here and there, but we'd always meet back up. As much as Scott kept pressuring me to spend more time with Zach or Shannon, I was by his side every step of the way. Of course, we were rarely alone, as we brought along a doctor to monitor him. He had a few bad days, and his health was obviously declining rapidly, but he never allowed that to get in the way of living his life to the fullest on the trip. We saw so many amazing things, and made so many wonderful memories.

When we returned home, I made the decision to retire from Hudgins Design. Zach had essentially been running the company for over a year, so it felt like the right time to completely hand over the reins. I wanted to be able to spend every minute we had left with my husband. We spent our days in the park, and visited Joanna and the grandkids nearly every day. Scott's health had seemed to stabilize, and I hoped against hope we could keep this up forever.

It wasn't to be, however. A month after we got back, Scott needed to be on oxygen around the clock. A couple months later, he was limited to a wheelchair. He was fighting as best he could, but he was adamant about no further chemo or radiation.

Finally, seven months after he told me cancer had returned, we all knew he was nearing the end. Scott was only eating a few spoonfuls of broth a day, and had not had the energy to get of our bed in almost a week. The kids and their spouses came by every day to say hello, but I wasn't fooled. They were making sure I was ok, and they were coming by to say their goodbyes, just in case.

The day he died, Scott seemed to know it was his last day. He insisted I help him get dressed and he had me place a ton of pillows behind him so he could sit in bed. Instead of allowing people to come into the room in groups to say 'hi', he wanted to talk to just one person at a time. I sat with him the entire time, trying my damndest to stay strong for him, but I was crying nearly the whole day.

First, he talked to the twins. "Now, boys, you be good to your mom and dad," he said as Colt and Colby sat on his lap. "I'm not going to be around to keep you in line. And every time you come up with a new adventure, you make sure you take your grandpa with you."

"But what about you Grandpa?" Colby asked.

"Yeah, we wants you to come too!" Colton quickly added.

"I know buddies, but I'm going on an adventure of my own. I need you to be strong and brave little guys. Your daddy and grandpa are going to be really sad for a while, so I need you two to help them. Can you do that?"

"Yeah!" they both said enthusiastically. I had to choke back a sob at that point. They reminded me so much of Zach when he was that age. Scott had always known the perfect words to say in any situation.

Next was Shannon's turn.

"My beautiful baby girl," Scott said.

"Dad, please," Shannon said, fighting back her tears. I quickly handed her a tissue from my stack.

"It's true. You're the strongest woman I've ever met. You're beautiful, and I'm so damn proud of you."

"Daddy, don't… I don't want you to…"

"I know, baby girl, I know," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I don't want to go either, but it's time. I've been so blessed to spend nearly twenty-three years with you in my life. I wouldn't trade that in for one more day without you."

"I love you, Daddy," she sobbed into Scott's chest.

"Shh, I love you too," Scott said, rubbing Shannon's back. "Don't cry. I've had all the drama I can handle for one lifetime. It's time to see what sort of trouble I can get into in the afterlife."

Shannon chuckled lightly. She sat up and wiped her eyes before smacking Scott's arm.

"Damn you for being able to make me laugh, even now. But seriously, I love you, Dad."

Shannon gave Scott one final hug and a kiss on the cheek before giving me one as well.

"Mel and I are going to spend the night, if that's ok with you," she whispered in my ear.

I could only nod as I rubbed her back.

Shannon left the bedroom, and a few minutes later, her big brother came in.

"Hey Little Buddy," Scott said with a weak smile.

"H… Hey," Zach replied hesitatingly, trying to his best to keep his composure. It didn't last, and he immediately fell to his knees and buried his face in Scott's chest, sobbing.

"Now, none of that Zachy," Scott said soothingly.

"I don't want you to go, Pops," Zach said, sounding for a second like the little boy I remembered so fondly.

"I know, buddy, I know. I don't want to go either, but I don't have much say in the matter. Life moves on and we just have to roll with the punches."

Zach lifted his head up from Scott's chest. "I know, but I just don't know how to live without you, Pops."

"You'll find your way. You have Joanna, and the destructive duo. Look after your father for me."

"I'm right here, asshole," I said, hoping to bring a little levity to the room.

"Like I said, look after your father," Scott repeated, giving me a faltering wink as he paused to take a draw off his oxygen and hacked several times.

"Zach, I'm so goddamn proud of you. Everything you've done. You're the sweetest, most loving kid a father could ever hope for. I loved being able to watch you grow from the scared little kid I met at the trailer park into the amazing and strong man you've become. You're a wonderful and loving husband with the second most wonderful children a father could ever hope for – after you and Shannon, of course. And you're a remarkable businessman. You're going to do wonderful things with Hudgins Design. I just know it."

"Thanks, Pops. I was just following the footsteps of the two greatest role-models a guy could hope for: Dad, and y...y…you," our son stammered, trying to maintain what little composure he had as he stood up.

Scott weakly reached out and grabbed onto Zach's wrist.

"Zach… One more thing. You lived in hell for four years before we were able to get you away from your mother. You put your trust and love in us, and I betrayed that by walking away. I know I came back, and I know you've forgiven me. But I want you to know I have never forgiven myself for that. I'm so, so sorry my dear boy," Scott said softly. It was the first time all day I'd heard his voice break.

"… Pops, yeah you fucked up good that time. But I also learned a valuable lesson. We're all human, and we all make mistakes. The important thing is finding a way to fix those mistakes. And you did. But I still forgave you, and want you to forgive yourself."

Scott and Zach exchanged hugs and 'I loves you', and a few tears, before Zach gave me a hug.

"Dad, if you need anything, we'll be downstairs. Joanna and I will be here as long as you need us."

"Thanks, Zachy. I'm going to stay here until…" I replied, unable to finish the thought.

"I wouldn't expect anything less. Just let us know if you need anything."

Zach quietly walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving Scott and I alone. I sat beside him in silence for what seemed like an eternity. I collapsed beside my husband in bed, curling up next to him. He put his arm around me as I rested my head on his chest, sniffling softly.

"Tiger, you want to fool around one last time before I go? I can probably give it to you good at least two or three times before I kick it."

"Scott..."

"No, you're right… I probably won't be able to get it up today. You can still fuck me if you want. You'll have to do all the work, though."

I looked up at my husband's eyes in shock before the tone of his words actually hit me. Scott was continuing to lightly stroke my back and he had just been teasing me. His eyes had a faint bit of the glimmer he used to have when he was healthy. Not much, but it was still there.

"Ass," I replied with a smile, lightly smacking his chest. "At first, I thought you were serious."

"What? Did I get your hopes up?"

"No, I was just beginning to wonder if you really only wanted me for my body," I shot back.

I lay in his arms for several minutes, just relishing what I knew were some of the final minutes we had left. I did not want to ruin this moment with tears and painful farewells after our many years together. However, we still had to have them.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you," I whispered.

"I do. You'll live. You'll spend time with our grandchildren, probably even ones I'll never get to meet, and you'll tell them all about me, and how I ruined you for all other men."

Scott chuckled at himself, which led to a coughing fit. I sat up and pushed him forward rubbing and patting his back until he regained control of his lungs. I moved some of the pillows out from behind him and took their place, resting Scott's back against my chest as I wrapped my arms around him.

"More importantly, you'll go on a new set of adventures. You'll meet new people and see new places. Who knows, you might even meet someone you could…"

"Scott! I'm not going to find anyone who can compare to you."

"No, you can't. But you might find someone who loves you and you want to love back."

"I don't want to do that. I only have enough room in my heart for you."

"That's what I thought after Steve died. But I was wrong. I found you. I'm not demanding a promise out of you to find love after me…"

"Good, because you're not getting one," I replied curtly, fighting back a new wave of tears as I realized just how afraid I was of the future I was about to enter – a future without Scott.

"Hey, let the dying man say his piece before he goes, would you?" Scott teased, once again trying to lighten the mood. "I'm just saying I want you to be open to the possibility that you might possibly be able to find someone you can share a piece of your heart. Not even the whole thing, just a part of it."

"I… I'll keep that in mind. I just don't see it happening."

"I didn't either. But it did. And it turned out to be more worthwhile than I could have ever hoped."

We drifted into silence as I held my husband. The only sounds were his shallow breaths and my sniffling and occasional choked sobs. I have no idea how much time passed. We had said our goodbyes a hundred times by this point. We had no need for words. The love flowed between our bodies as I clutched him against my chest.

"Noah, love, I think it's time," Scott whispered, breaking the silence.

"No… please, just hold on for one more day," I begged, my body wracked with stifled sobs.

"I don't think I can wait any more. I don't think I want to. I'm finally going to see Mia again. And Steve."

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I simply kissed his head and tightened my grip on him.

"I'm going to tell him all about you and not just the good things. I can't wait for you to meet him one day. You'll love him. But please, promise me one thing."

"Scott… anything, I'll do anything for you. Just name it," I replied, tears streaming down my face.

"I'll be waiting for you, missing you, and loving you every single day. Just promise me you'll keep me waiting for a very long time."

We fell back into silence. Within only a couple minutes, his breathing had obviously become erratic. Not long after that, I could feel his heart pump its last beat against mine as his body went limp.

Scott Hudgins, my husband and love of my life for twenty-eight years, was dead.