"Darlin' if you want me to be closer to you, get closer to me," the lyrics flowed from my lips like honey as I looked out the kitchen window. My arms were wrist-deep in disgusting soapy dishwater but my heartfelt alight with pure joy.
"God, I love that song," said a silky sweet masculine voice. It was my husband, and he was standing behind me. He put his arms around me, holding me close as he moved his lips to my neck. His mouth felt electric, with every breath sending shivers down my spine.
I turned to see him, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Are you hungry?" my own voice sounded years younger. (Yeah, this had to be a dream.)
"Nah, babe," Josh said with a smile. "I just wanted to hear you sing." He pressed his lips to my ear. "Darlin' if you want me to be," his voice lowered to a whisper, "closer to you, get closer to me. Darlin' if you want me to love, love only you, then love only me." Josh ended his words with a tender kiss to my neck, gently sucking on my jaw.
I wanted so badly to take him to the bedroom; to make love to my husband's body in his prime. But it was not to be. I awoke alone in my bed, with Pup licking my neck. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry. The bloodhound placed her head on the bed, whimpering in the most adorable way. It was enough to melt my heart. "You're a good dog, let's get you some breakfast."
As the dog ran ahead, I splashed water on my face before heading out to the living room. I made sure to pour a couple of scoops of dry food in Pup's bowl, along with a coffee cup's worth of sinkwater. The resulting mush always reminded me of breakfast cereal. "I'll try to get you something else later."
Josh was asleep on the sofa, resting his head on Tomas's lap. A very familiar song was playing on the ancient cd player. "...was a time, when I would come running. I'd drop everything for the touch of your hand in mine."
Tomas sighed, leaning his head back. "It's been playing on a loop for the past few hours."
"Oh?" I took a step closer to stroke my husband's sleeping face.
"Something about the calm melody seems to bring him comfort."
"It was our wedding song, our first dance."
Tomas nodded as if he was already aware of that fact. "I can certainly see that."
"I think it was his father's favorite song; one of those old ballads that can either be about loving Jesus or wild sex."
"Are you talking about 'Get Closer' by Seals and Crofts?" Tomas laughed. "I'm not sure that's completely accurate, but we can agree to disagree."
Josh, eyes still closed, parted his lips to speak. "I want to see my pa."
Tomas glance at me with a look of confusion. "Josh's father is buried in Texas, right?"
"Yeah," I replied. "At a place near San Antonio."
Josh's eyes blinked open, his eyelids fluttering. "Yes, that's what I want."
"Um, ok." My husband was in a lot of pain, it would have been cruel to say no. And it seemed Tomas agreed. "It's only about a ten-hour drive."
Tomas picked up his cell phone. "Should be do-able, I just need to set a few things up."
I assumed he meant renting a van and possibly picking up extra nutrition bags for Josh's feeding tube. "Does the rented van have a GPS?"
"No, but my phone does. Judging by what I'm seeing on Google maps, we can safely make it to the San Antonio area by the end of the day. If you'll watch Josh for a few minutes I can pick up enough supplies for the trip and swing by the hotel to pick up Christi."
"Unless she's already on her way," I said, just as I heard a car pull into our driveway.
"So she is," he said with a chuckle. "I'll be sure to fill her in on our plan." Tomas gently moved Josh's head from his lap, making sure my husband was comfortable on a nearby memory foam pillow. True to his word, when Tomas left, I could see him talking to Christina before driving off on what appeared to be a motorcycle of some kind.
My daughter was giddy with excitement as she scampered through the door, squealing with more energy than a woman in her third trimester had any right to have. "We're going to Texas!"
"Do you need to go back to your hotel room to pack anything?" I asked. "Change of clothes, medications?"
"No, I should be good, I keep most of my things in the car," she said as she took Tomas's place on the sofa. "Oh! I love this song!I knew better than to argue with a pregnant woman. "I'm just going to pack up a few snacks for the dog."
The road trip wasn't very long. Tomas drove for the first leg, passing through Louisiana, but once we made it to the San Antonio metro area, I took the wheel. I had a vague idea of where the cemetery was, but admittedly it had been years since Josh and I had made the drive out to see his father's grave.
The desert was vast and mundane; miles and miles of cactus and sand until I saw a wooden sign. "Razor's Edge, Memorial cemetery."
"Isn't this place owned by great-aunt Gracie?" Christina asked from the backseat.
"I think she owns the land," I replied from behind the wheel as we passed by even more large desert expanses. Grace was Josh's father's sister, a total western cowgirl bad-ass if I'd ever seen one. The first time I met her was when Christina was born. She was funny, sweet, and kind. Almost makes me feel bad that the last time we met was at the funeral for Josh's father when she put her older brother into the ground.
"What's with the name?" Tomas asked, sitting in the passenger seat, with Josh's service dog on his lap. "Razor's Edge? Seems very punk rock."
"That's one way to describe it," I muttered. Razor's Edge was not an ordinary cemetery but rather an art installation watched over by several generations of Josh's nomadic family. "It's not really a place of business, more of a tourist trap. You'll see when we get there."
"I suppose I will," Tomas replied, cracking open a window to let in the warm Texas air.
I glanced up at the setting sun. We probably had about an hour left of daylight. "Do you think we should look for a hotel before it gets dark?"