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preparing for it. Was I wrong to let Uncle Charlie accept his fate without trying to keep his spirits up or offer him hope? I’d been trying to respect his wishes and follow his lead, reasoning that I couldn’t possibly understand what he was feeling, but maybe he needed me to play the devil’s advocate, to help him see another possibility.
    “My husband lived with cancer for years before it finally took him,” Mrs. Ryan said, looking out the window. “But he had many happy, productive days long after doctors said he should have been gone. He never gave up, not on life. And I don’t think Charlie should either.” She sighed. “But of course, that’s not for me to say. He has to decide for himself the way he’s going to live out the rest of his days.”
    “You really care about him, don’t you?” I saw the shimmer of tears in her soft green eyes, and it finally dawned on me her reasons for being there for my uncle may have extended beyond neighborly concern.
    “Of course I do.”
    “Have you told him how you feel?”
    Uncle Charlie had had his heart broken once, many years ago, when his fiancé left him a Dear John letter before taking off with their next-door neighbor. Ever since then, he’d refused to try again, claiming he didn’t need the headache of a relationship.
    “What would be the point?” she asked. “He’s already made up his mind about everything. There’s no getting through to him.”
    I would have given anything to see my uncle have some happiness in his final days, but I couldn’t believe Mrs. Ryan would be willing to risk her heart on a man who may not be around to bring in another year. How incredibly brave of her. Looking at her now, I saw her in a completely different light. I’d always known she was independent and tough as nails, but putting her heart on the line, risking that kind of loss, was beyond courageous.
    “Do you want me to talk to him?”
    “Honey,” she said, offering a small smile, “you know your uncle better than anyone. Do you really think there’s anything either of us could say to make him change his mind about the way he spends his days? He could be out sitting in the park, watching the kids playing, listening to the birds chirping, experiencing life. Instead, he’s holed up in that damn apartment with the drapes drawn all day, waiting for the Grim Reaper to pay him a visit.”
    I agreed with her, but I didn’t think it was right to push him if he didn’t feel up to it. “We don’t know how he feels, Mrs. Ryan.”
    “I’ll tell you how he feels—sorry for himself,” she said, sounding disgusted. She raised a hand to silence me when I would have jumped to his defense. “I know this isn’t easy, but child, my son was hit by a car when he was ten years old. Those doctors, who thought they knew it all, said he’d never walk again.”
    I’d met her son and knew he was walking just fine today. “What happened?”
    “We decided to make up our minds about what his outcome would be. I made it my mission to keep his spirits up through the surgeries, the physical therapy—through it all. We never gave up. That boy had an iron will, and I’ll tell you, he taught me a hell of a lot about fighting the good fight no matter what life throws at you. I think that’s what got my husband through those years of living with cancer, remembering how brave our little boy had been.”
    “That’s a great story,” I said, feeling tears well in my eyes. “But I don’t know that it’s realistic to think Uncle Charlie could get a happy ending.”
    She frowned. “Who’s talking about a happy ending? None of us know how long we’ll be here, honey. Hell, I could’ve bit the bullet today. But I’ll tell you what—if I did, I wouldn’t have had any regrets.”
    I wished I could have said the same. I’d always walked on the safe side of the street because my parents’ accident had taught me there was danger lurking around every corner.
    “I know this isn’t