The Letter Page 9

  “We met by a cruel twist of fate. How do you know you want to give up your chance at a normal relationship for me? I might not survive this. You know that, right? Of course you know that! You’re a paramedic. You see sick people all the time — people dying of cancer. You know what the end could be like.”

  “I’m not a doctor, but I know the odds are overwhelmingly in your favor. It’s true, I haven’t known you a long time. We didn’t have the privilege of growing up together and hanging out at the mall, going to the movies or football games — although something tells me you were probably a band or choir geek.”

  “I played second chair flute.”

  “Even though I’ve only known you a couple of months, there isn’t a part of me who wants to find anyone else. When I go to bed at night, I can’t wait until the next time I have plans to see you again. When my phone rings, I hope it’s you. If something awful happens at work, you’re the first person I want to tell because I know you’ll understand my pain.”

  “Wow! Did we accidentally become a real couple when we were pretending to be husband-and-wife? The timing sucks big time though. After Tuesday, I may look like a freak.”

  “Do you understand what I’m saying? To me it doesn’t matter whether you lose your hair or your breasts. How you look doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you.”

  I lean across the table and kiss him gently. “How in the world did I ever get lucky enough to find a guy like you?”

  Rocco winks. “Well, technically I found you.”

  “However it happened, I must’ve built up some mighty positive karma.”

  “That’s what happens when you go to crazy extremes to make your elderly neighbors happy.”

  The CNA in charge of taking my vitals looks skeptically around the cramped room. My mom is still fussing with the blankets at my feet, but Edna gets the message. She walks over, carefully avoiding the machinery and cords with her cane as she bends over and kisses me on the cheek. “Hang in there. I’m going to spend the day cooking all your favorite foods. If you thought you were spoiled before, you have no idea what’s coming.”

  “Edna, I may not feel up to eating for a while. I’ve heard anesthesia can make you nauseous.”

  My dad interrupts my conversation. “Nonsense Mallory, I did some reading on the plane. According to the medical journals, they might use a local anesthetic. You may not even be put to sleep for this procedure.”

  “Dad, I already spoke to the anesthesiologist. Based on where they have to take the biopsies, they plan to put me out — at least for a little while. They’ll take a sample of my lymph nodes and do a core biopsy.”

  “How long before you know the results, honey?” my mom asks.

  “The radiologist and the lab folks will be on hand to examine the samples and the images. If the results turn out to be positive for cancer, they will go ahead and do surgery. If it looks like my breast can be saved, they’ll take the affected portion off during a lumpectomy. If it’s extensive, they’ll take both breasts in a full mastectomy.”

  My mom gasps. “Are you ready for all of that?”

  Rocco reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair back under the goofy little disposable hat they’ve already placed on my head as he brushes his knuckles down my cheek. He reaches out to grab my free hand which doesn’t have an IV in it.

  I shake my head. “No Mom, I’m not ready — cancer didn’t really give me a choice. It’ll be what it is. I’ve got a lot of people around me who care about what happens to me. That’s about the best I can do under the circumstances.”

  Edna clears her throat. “Speaking as one of the people who cares about Mallory, I think we should get out of her hair so the medical staff can take care of her. Come on, Mr. and Mrs. Edmondson, let’s grab some breakfast. It's going to be a long day.”

  Mom turns to me. “How will we know what’s happening with you?”

  “I programmed your numbers into Rocco’s phone. As soon as he hears from the doctor, he’ll keep you updated.”

  My mom walks over and gives me a big hug. She stands up and embraces Rocco too. “You promise to take good care of her?” she demands.

  “I’ve been doing my best, Rosalind,” Rocco responds.

  My mom tears up. “I know. This is just so hard. It’s the first time my baby has ever had surgery.”

  Edna puts her arm around my mom’s waist as she walks her out of the room. “I know it’s hard to see her hurting, but she’s strong.”

  Rocco nods at my dad. “I’ll call the minute I hear something. Go have yourself a nice breakfast. I’m far too nervous to eat. I’ll stay here at the hospital.”

  My dad squeezes my toe as he clears his throat. “I better go. You know your mother, she gets lost in a heartbeat. She’ll never find the car on her own.”

  “I’ll be fine, Daddy,” I promise as I close my eyes and fight back tears.

  The CNA escorts my dad out of the room leaving only Rocco.

  He dabs at my eyes with a Kleenex before he leans over and brushes a kiss across my lips. “Nariko, you are a warrior. Whatever this is, you will beat it. I’ll be right by your side for the battle.”

  Two more nurses come into the room and introduce themselves. At this point, my pulse is pounding so badly in my ears I can’t hear their perky introductions.

  As I am being wheeled away, I squeeze Rocco’s hand. “Of all the guys on the planet, I’m glad you turned out to be my husband.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ROCCO

  I’VE SAT IN PLENTY OF waiting rooms during my career as a paramedic. I’m not one of those guys who could simply let all my patients go without a second thought. I often wait with family members to see how the questionable cases resolve. Those cases are tough, but nothing like this. I feel like a little piece of my heart is being chipped away with every tick of the clock. It doesn’t help that I know the longer she stays under the knife, the more negative the outcome.

  My stomach growls, reminding me it’s been several hours since I’ve eaten. I receive a text message, but it’s not from the hospital. It’s from my friend, Tyler Colton, who works for the sheriff’s office. I guess word gets around because he wants to know which waiting room I’m in. I get up and look around until I locate a room number and text it to him.

  I sit back down and try to read a magazine, but my concentration is shot. The sound of the old-fashioned school clock on the wall drowns out all rational thought.

  I’m surprised when I look up and see Tyler and his wife, Heather. She’s holding out a bag from her bakery. “I brought your usual plus a couple of fresh baked goodies. I thought you might be hungry. If you’re anything like Ty, you’ve probably been worried sick and are too stressed to eat.”

  “Have you heard anything yet?” Tyler asks with a concerned expression.

  “The doctor came out and updated me once. The biopsy was positive for cancer cells. Based on the samples they took, and the imaging, they feel they can contain it with just a lumpectomy. I guess it was incredible luck she had that spur-of-the-moment mammogram with Edna. There is evidence the cancer may be encroaching on her lymph nodes. — but just barely. They’ve tentatively categorized her as stage 1B. If her margins come back clean, she shouldn’t need any radiation, only chemotherapy. It won’t be easy, but it’s all very treatable.”

  “How is the surprise reunion with her parents going?” Heather asks with a grimace. “I know if that had happened with my family, I might have branded it almost as stressful as finding out I had breast cancer.”

  “Actually, I think that’s the biggest surprise in all of this. It’s going better than anyone expected. The whole thing seems to have sprung up around a series of complete misunderstandings rather than any real animosity. So, in a weird way the cancer may have turned out to be one of those blessings in disguise, as cliché as it sounds.”

  Tyler nods, “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Jeff says his mom’s cancer saved the relationship between his mom a
nd his sister. So, good things can come out of terrible situations.”

  “Well, I’m hoping for an all-around miracle. Not only am I praying for the best outcome for Mallory’s cancer, I’m hoping for a love story to spring up from all this mess. I met her because of this medical catastrophe and I fell in love with her despite it. But I’m afraid she’ll never be able to separate the two things. I don’t want her to always associate me with the absolute worst news of her entire life — but I don’t know how we’ll ever get past that even once the initial crisis is over.”

  “Not to burst your bubble or anything buddy, but I think your woman will have much bigger issues on her mind than where or how she met you. When, how, or if you guys get your relationship together is kind of a back-burner topic at the moment. If you happen to get it sorted out, cool. If you don’t, I wouldn’t worry about it. She’s got enormous stuff to deal with.”

  “I know. I feel guilty even thinking about it. I can’t even picture my life without Mallory in it now. So, it’s weird not to think about it, if you know what I mean.”

  Heather smiles sympathetically. “I understand exactly what you mean. I had known Ty for a long time, but around the time our relationship got serious, my grandma died. I couldn’t believe I was falling in love during the saddest time of my life. It just seemed bizarre to me. When I realized Ty was exactly the kind of man Grandma Lydia would’ve wanted for me, I forgave myself for any awkward timing. Sometimes, what doesn’t make sense to the outside world makes perfect sense to your heart.”

  I unwrap the sub sandwich and gratefully take a few bites. “You guys have been married for quite a while now, right?” I ask as I pause to take a drink of my bitter coffee I’ve been nursing for what seems like hours and it’s cold as ice. “I guess that means you were able to work through your issues?”

  Tyler nods. “The death of Heather’s grandmother was only the beginning. I was not a huge hit with her parents and then there was the stress of opening Joy and Tiers.”

  Heather smirks. “I think you forgot the major event, Lieutenant Colonel Colton.”

  “No, I didn’t forget,” Tyler says ruefully. “I just try to block that part out. I hate how stressful that time was for you and our marriage.”

  “Wow! How did you guys keep your sanity and survive?”

  “It wasn’t easy. We just tried to focus on the bright side of things and the strength of our relationship. I won’t lie and say it was easy. In fact, when Tyler left to report for duty, I was afraid maybe he’d given up on us.”

  I look at Tyler in utter disbelief. “Mr. Loyalty, Commitment and Service to Country?”

  Ty shrugs. “I wasn’t great about communicating what mattered to me.”

  Heather nods. “Back then, I wasn’t too sure anybody would love me for me. I was convinced I was wholly unlovable. It took Ty years to fix the damage.”

  “Do you have any advice for me?” I ask.

  Tyler looks at me solemnly. “Remember, no matter what the two of you face, it doesn’t change why you fell in love with Mallory. She still is that person under all of her pain. Some days, it may be harder to find her. Just never forget to look.”

  Heather nods. “Remember, you’re fighting cancer, not each other. I know it seems obvious now, but when you’re tired, stressed and nothing in your life seems normal, those lines can get a little blurred.”

  I stand up and give each of them a brief hug. “Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate the food and the pep talk. I needed them.”

  Heather hugs me back. “Don’t worry about it. When Mallory feels better, we’ll include her in the Girlfriend Posse. Gwendolyn has been through the cancer thing. She can give her some helpful advice, I’m sure.”

  “Uh … I’m not sure Mallory’s up for the whole Girlfriend Posse treatment. She’s pretty shy,” I caution.

  Heather smirks. “You have met Tara. She is one of the founding members. Several years ago, when we first started the Girlfriend Posse, Tara could barely bring herself to leave the house. We can work with shy — just leave it all to us.”

  “Mallory met Tara the other night after Aidan’s charity concert. The two of them seemed to hit it off well, so I have no doubt Tara has already got something planned. I’ve hung around you guys long enough to know never to stand in the way of the Girlfriend Posse.”

  Tyler clears his throat. “The guys don’t have a fancy name or anything, but we’re here for you too. Just let us know if you need anything, okay?”

  I point down at the bag from her bakery, Joy and Tiers. “Yeah, I kinda figured. Thanks.”

  “Well, I’ve got to go work on a large wedding cake order. But I hope everything goes as well as it can under the circumstances,” Heather says as she squeezes my hand one last time.

  “Me too,” I respond trying to keep from choking up.

  “You want more ice chips?” I ask as I take a moment to fix the crooked oximeter on Mallory’s finger.

  Mallory shakes her head. “No, what I really want is food! I’m starving.”

  “If you keep these down, I bet they’ll let you have some soft stuff after the next set of vitals. They want you to take it easy on your stomach for a bit. If you start throwing up, it’s tough on your stitches.”

  Tears leak out of the corners of Mallory’s eyes. “I knew this was coming. All the tests pointed in this direction. But somehow, I’m still shocked. I mean, how ridiculous am I? Even Mindy warned me this would happen. How many people have their own personal psychic give them a heads up? Yet here I am still stunned that I’m a B cup on one side and an A-and-a-half on the other.”

  “I think you’re beating yourself up over nothing. It doesn’t matter if you were prepared or not, having a cancer diagnosis confirmed is a big deal.”

  “You know what’s bothering me? My breasts weren’t pin-up material to begin with, but pretend husband or not, you won’t ever get the chance to see me whole. The version of me you’ll see will be a damaged, disfigured one.”

  I grasp Mallory’s hand and warm it between mine. “Well, here’s something you don’t know about me. I’ve never been a breast or leg kind of guy. I’m more about a woman whose eyes sparkle with glee when she has a fabulous secret or a woman who can spin words like a ninja weapon yet string them together like beautiful poetry. I’m all about a woman whose heart is big enough to cherish a lonely older woman like a family member and respect her friend’s unconventional relationship as if it’s no big deal. That’s what I find sexy in a woman. Do I care about your breasts? Yes — but, only to the extent that I don’t want them to kill you.”

  Mallory’s eyes squeeze shut and when she opens them again, she pins me with a serious gaze. “Are you really this perfect or are you merely saying these things to make me feel better?”

  “No, I’m not so perfect. You can ask the guys I work with; they’ll tell you I have lots of flaws. I am prone to snoring. I can’t cook pasta correctly to save my soul — it always turns out raw or too mushy — no matter how many times I try. My handwriting is atrocious. And according to everyone who works at the firehouse, I load the dishwasher incorrectly. Despite it all, I mean exactly what I said —how you look matters little to me.”

  Through a teary grin, Mallory says, “I guess we’ll have to do some negotiations, I take my dishwasher logistics quite seriously.”

  When I hear a soft knock on the door frame, I spin around in surprise. The woman laughs at my ferocious expression. “Relax, I know I look a little tired, but I believe we’ve met before. I’m Dr. Callie Stephenson. I operated on your wife today.” She reaches out to shake my hand.

  When she reaches Mallory’s bedside, she briefly checks her chart and her vitals. “I’m sorry we had to find any cancer at all, but the areas we did find seemed well contained. There is some concern regarding the pathology of your lymph node. Out of an abundance of caution, I’d like you to have a couple of short courses of chemotherapy. Your margins look clean.”

  Mallory slumps deeper into the bed.
“I was doing a little research — it’s kind of what I do. Chemotherapy means I might not have kids.”

  The doctor nods. “It’s true, chemotherapy can negatively affect fertility. You are relatively young and I don’t anticipate more than a few weeks of treatment. Hopefully, those factors will work in your favor. If you’d like, I can send you to a fertility specialist and they can talk to you about options for retrieving your eggs before we pursue chemotherapy.”

  The doctor looks at me. “That would be entirely Mallory’s decision. I support her either way,” I answer awkwardly.

  Mallory shrugs. “I have mixed emotions. I’m adopted and I’ve always dreamed of having a child who resembles me. But then again, as an adoptee, I understand what it means to have a family who loves you and takes you in. I guess I’ll take my chances. If I’m meant to have a child naturally, it’ll happen. If not, adoption works for me.”

  Dr. Stephenson nods. “That sounds like a healthy approach. In this case, it’s probably ideal. New studies have shown starting chemotherapy earlier rather than later is more beneficial to long-term outcomes.”

  “That’s the kind of news I like to hear,” I say as I squeeze Mallory’s hand for reassurance.

  Dr. Stephenson goes to the other side of the bed and examines Mallory’s bandages and the drainage tube under her arm. “Everything looks great here. Your surgery went a little longer than I expected. You could reasonably spend the night in the hospital or go home if you feel more comfortable. I’m a little reluctant to send you home unless you have great help there because I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  Mallory perks up. “Oh please, can I go home? I’m not comfortable here. I promise I will follow all the directions.”

  The doctor backs up and studies Mallory carefully.