Enjoy, I hope!

Chapter Seventeen:

Vanessa:

Humans are the only animals on the planet that have any concept of death. A cheetah will run for miles, for years, without ever thinking it might die one day. It is opposite of "live like you are dying," because animals live like forever is real. I envy them.

I thought it was a cold. I had been feeling run-down for while after Christmas and thought it was partially holiday let-down. California is slightly immune to "the winter blues," but there is a chill to the air and the desire for warmer, longer days is inherent in all of humanity. I was also so busy working with Spencer on projects and enjoying weekly, date nights, a case of the sniffles and occasional fatigue didn't bother me.

Despite being a scientist, I am an idiot. I have leukemia. A rare, rapidly progressing, version, at that. I'll by dead by the end of March.

It would break Spencer. I knew it would. It would hurt Paul too, along with some of my other close friends at Jensen. It was going to suck.

So, what do you do when you know you have less than three months to live? A dolphin would keep exploring the ocean. An eagle would continue to soar through the skies. I am human though, and I must plan.

…

I took a trip San Francisco a week after my diagnosis in the middle of January. Some of our freelance programmers work out of a facility there, so it didn't seem out of character to visit it. I made a lunch date with an old friend from MIT who was a year behind me.

"Nessa!" Amy Li greeted me with joyfully. "How are you?"

"Happy to see you," I said.

"Gosh, it's been how long?" she said as we sat down. "You always had a better head for dates."

"Two years," I said.

"Your life has gotten exponentially more interesting in the last six months," she said. "I read the tabloids while waiting at the grocery store. Congratulations!"

I blushed.

"Everything I have read about him indicates he's the real deal," she said. "Sweet, smart and the way he tried take attention off you, dedicated. Don't let him out of your sight, Ness!"

"There's no easy way to say this Amy," I said. "I'm dying. I'll be dead from leukemia by March and I need your help."

"How?" she said. "You know I'm program developer, right? Not an oncologist. And why not call in some favors and get yourself in the latest cutting-edge study?"

"Because I've read the research and nothing is going to save me in time," I said. "I need you to help Spencer Reid."

"I'm still not following," she said.

"I know because every company this side of the state has leaks, that you're the chief developer of what is promising to be the most accurate dating app on the planet. I want you to find someone for Spencer."

She paused and looked like I had hit her in the face.

"Really?" she said finally.

"I'm quite serious," I said. "Dead serious actually."

"That's not funny," Amy said.

"It is when you're dying."

"You want me to set up a billionaire with a replacement for you."

"That sounds right," I said. "Amy, please. Spencer is hurt easily. He has lost so much over the years and I'm afraid of what is going to happen when I die. I need you to do this for me."

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "I can get you a name and biographical data, but you have to do the legwork on this. I'm not telling a woman she matches a guy before his current girlfriend dies."

"I know," I said.

Amy held out her hands.

"We haven't been close in a while," she said. "But I promise to be there for you."

I held them.

"I appreciate it," I said. "Now find my replacement."

…

I wanted function over comfort. I could live with pain, but I hated the idea of slowing down. Two weeks after I met Amy, Spencer was beginning to suspect something was off, as I stopped drinking during our dates. I said was trying a lifestyle change as I admitted to feeling run down. He suggested I take some time off.

Amy called Saturday.

"Maxine Brenner prefers to be called Max," she said. "It's clear her older sister filled this out, but we do extra digging. I did even more digging. She's the middle child of three girls, one has a tween son. Art history major at NYU turned lower grades art teacher at George Washington Academy. She can barely afford her rent as her neighborhood is about to turn expensive."

"How did your app pick her out?" I asked, mystified.

"Here's where she and Spencer are a good match: Strong belief in family values. Similar worldviews as in what needs to be done to improve society. Good listener. General distaste for pop culture. Still believes in love, even after heartbreak, as she had a nasty breakup recently where the guy was just totally wrong and she found out too late."

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"The app is about finding the right match, no matter what the cost, because love is more important than privacy or price."

"Are you going to email more?" I asked.

"I have pages of data," she said. "Good luck and try not to freak her out."

…

I told Spencer I wanted to see my family in New York City. He said we should talk afterwards. I agreed.

I got Max to meet with me at Smithsonian art gallery restaurant on Friday. I told her I was with Jensen tech and had a job opportunity for her. It wasn't a lie, as one of Sophia's pet projects had been enriching the arts at Jensen and no one had touched the collection in years. I got permission from the Jensen philanthropy director to look for a curator, as even he agreed the collection was overdue for some organization.

Max looked uncomfortable in a black and blue business suit.

"Hi Max," I said. "Call me Ness."

"This isn't a regular job interview is it?" she said. "I recognize you from the dress shredding thing from a while back. Is it true your dating the guy who stripped for you?"

I looked around.

"I'm not overly into art," I said. "But I see the beauty of a moment preserved in time. People say so much about what they see in these moments, but only the artist knows the true meaning behind what he or she created."

"That sounds a lot better than, what most say about art," Max said. "Why am I here? I know I'm not qualified to curate a collection developed by a billionaire."

"Your older sister submitted your name for a dating app my friend is developing. You're a match for Spencer Reid. And don't sell yourself short. You graduated Suma, and worked as an intern as Sotheby's auction house."

"But you're dating him," she said.

"I'm going to be dead by the end of March," I said. "I need to find someone who cares about him."

She let out a laugh.

"Tell me this is a sick joke."

I stared her down.

"It isn't," Max said slowly.

"My death is going to hurt him," I said. "Look what he did when he saw me humiliated. He is going to hurt badly."

"I don't know if I even like him," she said.

"Just give him a chance," I said. "And the curator job is real and pays good money."

"Will you let me think about it?" she said.

"You can start the job in May, if you want it," I said. "That way you won't have to miss any school."

"You are a phenomenal girlfriend," she said.

"I just want him to be happy," I said.

…

Spencer asked where I wanted to die at the end. I said in his arms with the aroma of Paul's coffee in the air.

"You showed I could love," he said. "You showed me how to feel again. Your love of me, music, and life in general, made me feel alive like nothing else."

"Promise me something," I said.

"Anything," he said.

"Write my initials on the moon."

"I'll make sure it happens before I die."

"I'm joking," I said. "This is what I really want: You to find love again."

"How can I love again after I've known you?" he said as tears fell.

I wiped them away.

"Because you have so much love to give. It isn't fair that I be the only to know it."

"I don't want you to go!" he sobbed.

I weakly rubbed his back as I started to tear up.

"Please Spencer. Keep living. Live and love, because I won't be able to soon. Promise you'll be open to love one day? Maybe not soon, but one day? For me?"

He looked at me.

"I'd rather write your initials on the moon."

I stared at him pleadingly.

"Okay," he said. "I'll try, but not right away. One day, I will."

I kissed him passionately and he kissed me back.

Animals do not know that there is such a thing as life ending one day. That is what gives them life. What gives me life even as I die, is knowing that Spencer will find love again.