Chapter 75
The Hum of Days

As distracting as it was, Maya did not mind feeling the baby's activities, kicking along sometimes, moving around like a little alien in her belly… With all their fears and uncertainties in recent weeks, any signs of vitality were received with nothing but joy.

"Hey, hey, easy…" she breathed, setting her book down and feeling at her ever-expanding roundness. Thirty-two weeks already, closer every day and yet most days it still felt too far away, especially when she thought of the man at her side. While she continued her research work for the professors, she was also sitting by her father, up in his room while he slept.

Much as she tried to space out her visits to see Kermit, Maya couldn't very well keep away. Every time she saw him, it felt as though his condition had taken three steps forward while she'd only taken one, and so she'd be left to wonder how many more times she'd have, how many opportunities left to spend time with him. The one benefit, if they could even call it that, was that he was in no way active, so once she reached him, all she had to do was sit with him, and that did not ask so much of her in return. She could be here with him; she just needed to hold steady to her emotions.

Today, when she'd arrived, she'd had Pappy Joe in tow, as he'd drive her over. He had also brought Elliott up the stairs for Maya. Walking into Kermit's room, they'd found him sitting propped up in bed, watching television. He saw them, and though the standards of a 'good' day had continued to diminish, it looked as though this was one of them. He was happy to see them. Pappy Joe had brought the baby up to Kermit's side, and while they worried at times that Elliott would get carried away and kick and screech, he was altogether calm today. They sat him with his grandfather, and the voiceless Kermit just smiled, holding the boy's hand in his.

Eventually, Pappy Joe had taken Elliott back downstairs, while Maya went to settle in on the loveseat near the bed. Before she could do so though, Kermit motioned for her to come and sit with him, the better to get her feet up.

"Okay, alright," Maya agreed without arguing. "I don't want to keep you from resting," she explained, showing her bag with the book and various articles she had to read. He tipped his head, and she could have laughed for how she was getting to understand his wordless manners more and more. He wanted to hear about what she was reading. "It might be too much entertainment for you," she joked, and he made a face. He could take it.

So, for a while, she talked to him about the things she was having to read for Professors Robinson and Patil. Kermit listened on, his hand moving to sit against her belly at the same time. Maya happily indulged him, going so far as to hope for the Bee to make his or herself felt.

In time, when there had been nothing left to explain, Kermit had gone back to watching the television installed at the foot of the bed, while Maya started reading. It didn't take long before her father fell asleep, and she found herself staring at him for a few minutes before getting back to work. The whole reason she'd brought the work along – other than the fact that it needed to be done – was so that it might balance her. The readings were captivating, as Maya had expected them to be, and she loved that she'd been called on for this project. And today, sitting here with her father, she knew that it was what she needed to keep her from spending those hours constantly worrying over him, and stressing herself and the baby out. She was here with him, and that was something.

"Maya?" She looked up to the door and found her grandmother. Elizabeth Hart looked to her son for a moment, a brief pull away from what had brought her up the stairs. Finally, she took a breath and looked to her granddaughter. "You should come down to eat. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes." There would be no argument here, not one bit of it. She wouldn't have said no, of course, but there was something sort of endearing in her grandmother's pointed look.

"On my way," Maya told her, gathering up her books, her pens, and setting them all on the loveseat. She checked over her father, confirmed that he slept on, and finally moved to head down to the kitchen.

Arriving there, she found Pappy Joe had been recruited into setting the table, while Abigail settled Elliott in the high chair they kept at the house, so he might enjoy his own meal. Elizabeth was back at the stove, filling plates. On the whole, it was a peaceful scene, normal as could be. But to Maya, there remained this unshakeable feeling like lunch wasn't the only thing they'd called her down for. The worst part was that she knew almost instantly what that something was going to be, and so she made herself sit down before she said the words.

"It's happening, isn't it?" she quietly asked, drawing the others' eyes. "You're taking him to the hospital, the last stretch before he goes."

They all looked sad in their own way, the mother, the wife… Even Pappy Joe, though his was more for sympathy. And all three of them were looking at her, their own sadness doubled to factor her into it all. It was not something they'd wanted to have to say, not ever, but right now, with her and the baby…

She'd tried to prepare herself for this moment. She knew it would come, sooner or later, and even though she couldn't predict exactly how she would react, she knew it would be the hardest thing she'd gone through. And now here they were, and… She wasn't numb to it, no, but it was like she couldn't move. Her voice volunteered nothing, not a sound, not a word. Her stepmother, her grandmother, Pappy Joe, they were looking at her. Her son was staring at her, too, in his chair, not a clue of what was being said around him. Maya looked at him, and in his eyes she just saw Lucas. She took a breath, held both of her hands to her belly, as though hugging her unborn child.

"When… When is he going to…" she finally asked.

"Tomorrow," Abigail replied. "We need to talk to the kids first, explain to them what's about to happen. I know it is a lot to ask right now, but we were hoping you'd be there when we sat them down. It might help them, you know, and…"

"I'll be there," Maya nodded. She could see how much Abigail struggled to make the request, to keep her own emotions in check. When she heard her stepdaughter's response, she looked relieved. "What about Luna? Does she know?" Maya turned to her grandmother as she thought of her aunt.

"She knows," Elizabeth confirmed. "She is flying in tomorrow with her girls."

"What about…" Maya started, but couldn't even say the rest. Was there any point even bringing up her grandfather? She didn't want to upset her grandmother, and just the near mention of him had been enough to make emotion rise in Elizabeth Hart's face. She had stood by her husband for so long, had stood back and allowed him to push away their son, all those years ago when he'd gotten Katy pregnant with Maya. And then she'd finally left him, and she'd gone to live with Kermit and his family, and to Maya's knowledge, her grandparents had not had any contact since.

But now their son was dying. Their baby boy, their firstborn… They had loved one another once, hadn't they? They had been happy as a family. Wouldn't it make sense for the man to be by his son's side when he passed? It would make sense. But common sense had not factored in the Hart men's relationship, not for over twenty years. Would this be the thing that changed it?

"I have no interest in seeing the man's face ever again," Elizabeth stated firmly, courage gathered with both hands. Her grief still managed to weasel its way in. "But for all he's done, I can't in good conscience take that choice from him. I have to let him know, even though I'd rather not."

"Let me take care of that for you," Maya told her grandmother, who immediately looked like she wanted to say something along the lines of 'I don't want you to have to go through that, you're already dealing with so much, and what about the baby?' Maya shook her head at her. "I'll be fine. Having a reason to do this calmly might be for the best."

Lunch was a very quiet affair that day. No one really had any idea of what to say anymore. When they were done eating, Abigail went to get Kermit's lunch together. It was all about giving him something he could get down and keep down, nourishing him as much as possible.

"If it's alright, I'll do it," Maya told her stepmother, as she headed up the stairs. Abigail turned back to look at her. "I need to talk to him."

So, Abigail brought the tray into the room for her, stepping out again after she'd taken a moment to look in on her husband. He was still asleep, but he looked like he was starting to stir.

Moving around the bed and finding a position to sit where she'd also be able to help her father eat was more complicated than anticipated while also factoring in her belly as it interfered with her mobility. She could have laughed about it if not for the present situation. Her moving around eventually served to bring Kermit around into full wakefulness and looking at her.

"Hey," she smiled at him. "Are you hungry?" He looked to the side and spotted the tray, gave an uncertain look. "It's good," Maya promised. "We had some downstairs. Yeah?" she asked.

Finally, he pulled himself into a more seated position, and they got to it. He needed help some of the time to make sure he wouldn't drop anything over himself, and it wouldn't matter that it was a necessity, it still frustrated him, much as he tried not to show it. The trick was usually to talk to him as he ate, to take some of the attention away from his eating.

"They told me, about tomorrow," Maya revealed. Kermit looked at her. His eyes said 'sorry.' "They want me to stick around for when they talk to Sam and the other kids," she went on.

For a man who could no longer speak, he looked that much quieter all of a sudden. Maya could understand where he came from on this. Just the idea of looking at those little faces, of telling them their father would be going away from home, that he would never return once they got him in that hospital…

"Luna will be here tomorrow," Maya went on, feeding her father another spoonful. She waited for him to swallow. "Dad… Do you want your father to be here?" she slowly asked. It was one thing for them to say that Charles Hart should be here, that he should have the choice of being by his son's side in his final moments, but when it really came down to it, the one who had the first choice was Kermit. He was the one about to die, wasn't he? If he didn't want the man who'd kicked him out of his home and kept him away all these years, then that would be the end of the argument, and Maya would stand by his word.

When she asked him the question, her father's expression turned from the sort of blankly determined one he'd get whenever he had to eat anymore to one of just… surprise.

"I told them I'd call him, fill him in on everything, so if he wanted to be here he could be. But it's up to you, okay? If you don't want him here, I won't make the call," she promised. Kermit leaned back into his cushions for a few seconds, thinking to himself. Whatever was going through his head right now, it was all his to keep, not owed to anyone. Maya waited, stirring the spoon through the bowl. She looked up again when she saw him look at her again out of the corner of her eye.

He pointed to the nightstand on his side of the bed. Keeping any difficulties to herself, she set the bowl down and worked her way back on to her feet. Balance regained, she walked around the bed and opened the drawer. He didn't have to tell her what he was after. When she saw the little book, she lifted it out and looked to him. He nodded. She hadn't seen that thing in a while, couldn't say how long it had been since he'd stopped writing in it, but eventually she'd almost forgotten about it.

"Can I…" she asked, closing the drawer. Again, he nodded, so she opened the booklet to its first page.

Whatever she'd imagined these scribblings of his to be about, she hadn't been anywhere close to the truth. It wasn't about the things he wanted to do before he died, not specifically. If it was, then it was all about one thing. Every page was filled with things he wanted to tell his father, all the things he never got to say, because Charles Hart had cut ties with his son, or because Kermit himself was seeing the means of his self-expression dwindling away.

Maya did not read every word, every page, but her eyes caught bits and pieces across the pages she turned, carefully, slowly. As much as she would have thought a lot of it to express anger, as she really had little more than that herself for her grandfather, that wasn't so. Yes, there were some passages where she could sense her father's own emotions boiling over, but it wasn't a leading theme by any means. No, what she got other than the flares of anger was sadness, and regret, for the good memories he could not erase, no matter how much he tried, and for the wasted times, the things his father had missed out on over the years because of the choices he'd made.

I know you thought so little of me, that I wouldn't make anything worthwhile with the life you gave me. But I did, Dad. Maya, Sam, Cara, Eliza, Wyatt… Whatever I was or I wasn't, especially to them, these kids are what I am proudest to say I helped create. The fact that you don't know just how great they all are, that's on you. That's your loss, and you don't even know.

Maya took a deep breath. Her emotions were so easy to trigger these days, and her father's words gave absolutely no chance to shore up before the hit. Her eyes welled up as she looked back to him. He had no way to know which part she'd been reading, but he still looked back at her like he might have known exactly what it was. He didn't have to tell her what he wanted her to do about his father. In pointing her to the notes, he'd given his answer, and it was up to her to go from there. For the time being, the small book was slipped into her bag for safe keeping.

After helping her father finish his lunch, Maya had taken up residence once again, next to him on the bed where she could continue her research while he watched television. If she was honest, her heart wasn't nearly into the reading as it had been before lunch, with what had been discussed over one lunch and another, and what would have to be brought to her young siblings later on. Eventually, Kermit dozed off again, and Maya did, too. She was awakened, she couldn't say how long after, and when she looked up, she discovered who had been the one to wake her.

"Hey…" she spoke quietly, stealing a look to the other side, finding her father was still sleeping, before turning back to her husband. "Pappy Joe called you?" she guessed as Lucas sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Yeah," Lucas confirmed, and in that one syllable she knew he had also been informed regarding Kermit and the hospital. She let out a breath at this, while he leaned over to press a kiss to the side of her face. When he sat back up, his hand went almost by reflex to rest over her belly, checking in on their Bee. Maya pressed both of her own hands over his. If he was here, then it had to be later than she thought. And that had to mean the kids were home from school, not a clue among them about what they were about to learn.

She was scared. And it wasn't about her father, and what came next, although… yeah, of course, she was scared of that, too, but on some levels it was an acceptable fright. The more time she spent with him, as his condition worsened, all she could think about was what little life was left in him. His days consisted primarily of waking, eating, lying here… He was never going to get better, so as far as he was concerned, wouldn't the next step bring him peace? What would it bring her siblings… What would it bring her?

That was her biggest fear, and she was sort of ashamed to admit it, at least as far as she was concerned. She would never feel any shame for being concerned about what losing Kermit would do to those four. Wyatt… He was only five, that was… He was so young, too young. How much would he retain of his father except the things they shared of him? Even Sam, the eldest of their lot, at fourteen, felt suddenly so small to her to be going through this. I'm twenty-two, am I big enough for this yet? And then the girls, well, that went without saying, didn't it?

These last few months, with all of them forced to be aware of things to come, they had all been coping as best they could. Maya had watched her brothers and sisters with such attention, how could she not? What she saw was something bordering on denial. They could all see that he wasn't always well, sure, but on the whole he'd mostly been the way he'd always been, so they could carry on pretending as though everything was fine.

But then in recent weeks, as his condition had started taking a steep decline, it was like reality had taken them by the head with both hands and forced them to look at him, to see the truth. He was on his way out of this world, away from them, and all they could do was react… to the best of their abilities. Sam was left to think of his place as the eldest in the house, after his father would be gone. Cara didn't know how to be around Kermit, not without losing her composure. Eliza just wanted to be near him all the time, and Wyatt… Wyatt was still doing his best to piece everything together, so he would watch everyone.

"Is he sleeping?" a small voice whispered, and Maya and Lucas looked to the door to find nine-year-old Eliza peering through the crack.

"Hey, Lizard," Maya stretched out her hand to her little sister and the girl came padding around the bed to reach her as she sat up and stood. She'd barely gotten on to her feet that the girl was embracing her. Maya embraced her back, kissing her blond head with all the love and the courage she could muster. "Yes, he's sleeping, let's keep him that way, yeah?"

"I heard voices," Eliza explained while she nodded. "Can I stay?"

"Of course you can," Maya promised.

Neither Maya nor Lucas looked forward to the evening, both before and after the news. Before Abigail sat down the kids to speak to them, they had to go around pretending like they didn't know what was coming, which felt… impossible, the worst time to be dishonest with them. That wasn't even really what they were doing, but then wasn't it a little? They were having to look them in the eye and pretend like everything was still the way it had been when the day had started, but it really wasn't. Maya fully expected for one or two of them to catch on to her, Sam especially. That kid was freakishly observant.

And then once they would tell them, well… No, there really was no way in which this evening could feel anything but very, very bad.

As expected, Maya took one look at Sam somewhere halfway through dinner, and she could see it in his eyes. He knew something was up, that things weren't right. Given enough time, he would be able to put it all together, and she just had to hope that he'd have the common sense to hold it together, to not say a word. He could usually be counted on for that, and he didn't let her down here.

Still, when the time came, his having figured it out didn't make it easier, not for him, not for any of them. Deciding it would be best to leave the Harts to speak, all of them together, Lucas had elected himself to go up with Kermit's dinner. By the time this had happened and been followed by Abigail, Elizabeth, and Maya all leading the kids into the living room while Pappy Joe went back into the kitchen with a sleeping Elliott, it very much felt like the circle was tightening, leaving no space for exit… for escape. Something was up.

The right words, if they existed, could only ever soften the blow to a certain point, and then there would still be that blow. The next day, after they went to school, after they went and wished their father a good day, he would be taken from the house, and he wouldn't be there when they returned. From now on, they'd have to go and see him at the hospital in order to be with him, and once he was there… It could be weeks, like it could be days, and then he would be gone forever.

They had already gone through explaining to them what was going on with Kermit, how his body was very sick, and that in time he would get to the point where his body just could not go on. They'd done all that already, prepared them about as well as they could hope to do, but now this was it, this was the moment they'd all been warned about, crawling forward to claim their dad. This was never going to end any other way than very badly.

Maya and Lucas had stuck around until well after the kids had finally managed to go to sleep, after which they had gotten Elliott in the car and headed home with Pappy Joe. The ride had been so wholly silent that it felt as though they were all in different places.

"I'll just go ahead and take this guy up to the nursery, yeah?" Pappy Joe spoke up as they arrived outside the house.

"Thank you," Maya quietly replied, and the man reached out from the back seat to touch her shoulder before climbing out and getting Elliott along with him. The parents watched their sleeping son being carried off by his great grandfather for a few moments before looking to one another. "Go on, ask it. I know you want to," Maya passed her husband a muted smile.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked it, much as he knew the answer to some extent.

"Baby's being very active tonight. It's like he or she wants me to know that they're okay, not to worry so much," Maya responded, looking down to her belly. "Somehow, it feels like I've never been as happy as I am in this exact moment that we're having this kid. That's weird, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Lucas smiled back. He knew exactly what she meant. Here they were, surrounded by the shadow of impending death, and there was this little ball of light, of pure life, front and center. Between their Bee and Elliott, it really felt like they wouldn't have made it through this time in the same way if not for their boys.

"I need to go to your parents' tomorrow, before I go back out there."

"Okay, what for?" Lucas wondered. Maya reached into her bag, pulling out a small notebook.

"I need to make a copy of this before I mail it out," she revealed. The way she held it in her hands, Lucas was left with the impression that letting go of this object, in its original form, was a sacrifice to her.

"Who's it going to?" he asked. She just kept staring for a few seconds, breathing. For better or for worse…

"My grandfather."

TO BE CONTINUED

See you next week! - mooners