“A tumor board?”
“Yeah, it’s where a bunch of oncologists get together and discuss a case. I will be theirs this Friday. Then we meet on Monday to decide my course of therapy.”
“Are you good with this? Do we need to go somewhere else?”
“Nah. They connect with all the major centers so the treatment protocols are pretty much the same.”
“Your parents? Do they know?”
“Not yet. I’m going to call them tomorrow.”
“Drew, look at me.” Sadness dulls his normally bright blue eyes. “We’re going to kick this cancer in the ass, babe. Do you hear me? I’m going to be with you every step of the way and we’re going to knock this thing out of you. I want you to understand this.”
“I know. I’m with you, Cate. We’re going to win this war. It’s what I want to do with my life … with our lives.”
I grab his face and kiss him. “You bet your ass we do.”
“There’s something else. With chemo, there’s a strong chance it will destroy any possibility of my ability to have kids.”
“Drew, I don’t care …”
“Let me finish, Cate. I want to freeze my sperm. In the chance that it does, and I do beat this …”
“There is no if. You’re going to beat this.”
“I know. So, when the time comes, and we want kids, we’ll still be able to do that.”
“Okay.” And I hug him, because if there is a choice, I will always choose Drew.
Drew has a meeting scheduled with his oncology team on Monday, the same day classes start for me. I want to skip so I can be with him. He assures me he’s good.
“Realistically, babe, what can you do? I have one of my attendings coming with me, and Mom and Dad will be here, too. It’s not that I don’t want you there, but you need to be in class. This is your final year.”
“I know but this is your life. I’m a part of it. I want to be with you, holding your hand.”
“And you will. In spirit.”
I pace the living room. I’ve delayed my departure by two days. I don’t have books or anything purchased yet. He’s right and I know it. This is going to be a tough semester for me, too. I’m taking eighteen ball-busting hours.
“Come here.” He calls me over to the couch where he sits. Then he pulls me on his lap. I suck in my breath and try to get up. “I’m not fragile, Cate. Don’t treat me as though I am. Now listen up. We both have lives to live and I want us to be as normal as possible. Cancer sucks, no matter how you look at it. There will be times I’ll need you desperately. Right now is not one of them. I have a huge support team and you’re my number one. I know that. As soon as I’m finished, I’ll call. But you have a job to do. When we get married in June, you need to be done, your diploma in hand, with that summa cum laude behind your name. You won’t be able to do that if you skip classes.”
“I love you, Drew.”
“Good. Now take your clothes off, because it’s going to be a few days before I see you again.”
This time when we make love, it’s slow and careful. Drew’s eyes never leave mine, it seems. Almost like he’s memorizing everything about me that he can. And as much as it’s beautiful, it’s frightening, too. The vibrancy of him, the way he’s so full of life makes me believe they must have made an error. They must’ve gotten it all wrong. It was someone else’s biopsy that they got mixed up with his. Then the truth bullies the fantasy aside and I know it’s real. Urgency invades me and I can’t seem to get enough of him. I want to drink him in, fill myself with Drew, until I can’t possibly take any more. He senses it; I know it. I’m no good at hiding my emotions. His lips capture mine in a searing kiss and when he releases me, he says, “It’s going to be fine. We’ll make it, Cate. I know. I’m going to beat this.”
And I believe him. He’s so convincing and strong. How can he not?
His chemo treatments begin the following week. As his luck would have it, they are opting for the more aggressive approach. The drugs they will use are toxic. I cringe just thinking about it. Caroline, Sam’s wife, is going with him for his first treatment, and then I will be there the next day, to spend the weekend. This semester is turning to shit. All I think about is being with him.
When I arrive at his apartment, he’s in bed. The blinds are drawn and he’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him so I stand in the doorway and watch him. He’s beautiful. His full lips and straight nose are profiled against his pillow and I want to bend down and kiss him, but I don’t budge. The sheet is pulled down his body, exposing his torso, and I think about what’s lurking beneath that gorgeous skin. How can something so ugly, so grotesque, be growing inside of all that magnificence? I cover my mouth to stop any sound from escaping. The urge to kiss his ribs nearly drives my feet into forward motion. I want to be the one to take it all away from him. Ridiculous, I know, but that’s how I feel, nonetheless. Guess you could say it’s my protective instinct. If I could touch every single bit of him right now, without waking him, I would. I wish I could soak him up, absorb him into me, and keep him safe there forever. I turn and quickly run away, trying to get out of there so I don’t wake him with my sobs. It’s so fucking hard to keep my shit together when I’m around him.
The vibration in my pocket has me digging out my phone. It’s Jenna.
“Hey,” I gulp.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a small meltdown. He’s sleeping and I haven’t even woken him up.”
“Why the tears then?”
“Because I looked at him lying there and …” I’m a hopeless, sobbing mess all over again.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she coos. “It’s going to be fine, Cate.”
In a shaky whisper, I say, “I don’t think it is, Jenna.”
“Cate, get a grip. You have a ton at stake here, particularly that guy inside. Get your shit together.”
I sniff loudly and rub my eyes with my fist. “You’re right. You’re right.”
“He needs your happy face, not some weepy-assed woman in his life right now.”
“I know. I only do this around you.”
“You can cry on my shoulder any day of the week, but if you ever do this in front of him, I will personally kick your ass all the way back to Charleston.”
I rub my face again. “Okay. You can. I may even help you.”
“Now go inside and crawl in bed with that man.”
“But he needs to sleep.”
“Listen to me you dork. He needs you! He needs you to hold him so get in that bed and wrap your arms around him and hug your body close to him. Oh, and stop in the bathroom first to make sure you don’t have raccoon eyes and skanky breath.”
That makes me laugh, and I actually snort. “Okay, boss.”
“Now ‘git’.”
Sneaking in the bathroom, I fix my eyes, removing all signs of the raccoon and then brush my teeth.
Back in the bedroom, I don’t allow myself to have any morbid, weepy thoughts. I undress and slide under the covers, then wind myself around Drew.
He lifts his head and smiles. “Hey, babe. You’re the best thing I’ve seen in ages. God, you feel good.” His arm hugs me tightly to him and holds my head to his chest.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Just wiped out. Otherwise, okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They gave me all kinds of stuff to counteract the side effects and so far so good, other than the damn exhaustion.”
“Then sleep. I’m here and will get you anything and everything you need.”
“The only thing I need is you.” He kisses the top of my head. “I missed you.”
“I missed you more.”
“Your classes?” He’s always so worried about me, and how I’m dealing with all of this.
“My professors are awesome. I’m good.”
“Hmm. Good to hear.”
“Sleep, babe. I’m right here with you, if you need me.”
“Love you.”
> “Right back to you.” I press my lips to his chest.
I didn’t think I was tired, but being in Drew’s arms, close to him, must have made me relax enough to fall asleep. When I wake up, it’s pitch black in the room. He’s still out, so I scoot out of bed and I’m shocked to see it’s after ten. I need to fix something to eat because my stomach just let out a huge growl, like Tony the Tiger. Then I chuckle to myself, thinking that’s probably what I’ll end up having to eat—Frosted Flakes. I doubt Drew has shopped for groceries with everything going on. But I get a big surprise when I open the refrigerator. It’s stocked full of things. So I grin and go to work.
Chicken and dumplings is on the menu, along with homemade chicken noodle soup. Those are two things I can cook and cook well. My mother taught me how to make them when I was young, and they are two of my specialties. Jenna always begs me for them, and Drew loves them, too. I’m just about finished with both when he makes an appearance in the kitchen.
And did I ever fuck up. He looks green. And then it smacks me in the face. The odor!
“Oh, shit!” I turn on the exhaust fan and light a couple of candles, but the damage is already done. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I was hungry and figured they would be a great treat for you.”
He has my favorite faded jeans on and a t-shirt and he says, “I’m just going to go and sit in my car for a minute.”
Now I totally feel like a douche. “Oh, no. I’ll open a window. The smell should be gone really fast.”
“It’s okay. I just need some air.”
I fist my hands in my hair. How in the fuck could I have been so damn stupid? The man just gets massive chemo, he’s bordering on nausea, and I’m in here cooking up a storm. What a dumbnut!
My first mission is to air the place out, so I open a couple of windows and burn some more candles. Luckily, everything I’ve cooked is done. I turn it all off and run outside to check on Drew.
He sits in his car with his head leaning back against the seat.
“Are you okay?”
“Just sweating. I got so nauseated, I was pouring the stuff.”
“Jeez. Nice to know your fiancée is a moron, huh?”
He laughs a little. “It’s all in the learning curve, babe.”
“Thanks for not being pissed off.”
“As if I could ever be that at you.”
“You never do get mad at me. Why is that?”
His head is still back and his eyes are closed. He shrugs and says, “What purpose would that serve? Anger only breeds anger. I get pissed at you, then you get pissed back at me, and it turns into a vicious cycle. It’s just better if I analyze my feelings and deal with them.”
I’m standing right outside his car, talking to him through his window. I lean down against the frame as I think about what he says. It makes so much sense, but most of us react before we process what’s happening. We don’t stop and listen to what the other person is saying. “How the hell did you get to be so smart and intuitive?”
“I’m not. I’m just a thinker.”
“I’m glad I fell in love with a thinker, then. And since you fell in love with a stinker, I’m going to check to see if the apartment still smells.”
I see his body shake as he chuckles. “Cate, kiss me first.”
Leaning in, I press my lips to his, then I run inside.
The smell leaves and Drew returns. It’s good to see green man is gone.
“I think I’m gonna be one of those people who gets affected by smells. Some people are fine with it, but I can already tell I’m not gonna be one of those.”
Putting my hands on his shoulders, I say, “If that’s one of your side effects, I promise not to cook on your worst days.”
“The weird thing is though, I feel like I could eat something.”
“I made chicken soup and chicken and dumplings. Want to try some?”
He nods. “Maybe a little bowl of the soup.”
I ladle up a little bit and he takes a few spoonfuls. “This is good, but my appetite isn’t in full swing yet. I’ve always heard how quirky chemo makes you. I’m starting to get that now.”
“I’m just happy as hell you were able to take a few bites. Why don’t you go and take a shower and I’ll fix you a glass of ice water.”
He gets off his chair and wraps me in a hug as I’m clearing his bowl. “You’re the best. Thanks.”
The next morning, Drew wakes up and shakes me.
“What is it?” I ask, flying out of the bed.
He lies there, laughing at me. “Damn, you’re jumpy.”
“You scared me!”
“I need a favor.”
“You woke me up out of the deepest sleep ever, to ask me for a favor?”
“Yeah.” He has his old boyish grin back and the sparkle in his crystalline blues has returned.
“You know I’ll do anything for you. What is it?”
“I want you to shave my head today.”
“Huh? Shave your head?”
Without any sadness, remorse, or regret, he says, “Uh huh. This mop of mine is going to start falling out in clumps and I don’t want the mess all over the house. I decided I want to shave it off to save myself the trouble. I have one of those barber clippers from when I used to wear my hair almost shaved. So, will you do it?”
“You trust me that much?”
He busts out in a knee-slapping laugh. “Seriously, Cate. I’m asking you to shave it all off. How can you possibly fuck it up?”
“You’re talking to the person who tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to wax Louise. Remember?”
“How can I forget? But I’m not asking you to wax my head. I wouldn’t dare do that.”
We both are in fits of laughter now. Finally I say that I’ll do it, as long as he doesn’t hold any fuck ups against me. So, later that day, I watch all of Drew’s gorgeous hair fall off as I work the barber’s clippers over it. And when I’m done, I can’t believe how damn sexy the man looks bald.
“You are the only man who looks as good without hair as you do with it.”
“Aww, you’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Get over here, Cate.”
I climb on his hairy lap and give him a smooch. “I hope you don’t usually ask your barber to do this.”
“My barber’s name isn’t Cate. It’s George. And no, I don’t. But he wouldn’t mind, because he’s gay.”
By Sunday, Drew is back to feeling pretty good. I hate to leave, but I have to get back to Purdue.
“I’m fine,” he insists. “Go. You have a shit ton of stuff to do. And don’t try to fool me.”
I wrap my arms around him, hating to let him go. “I’ll call as soon as I get back.”
“And I promise to call if I need you.”
He repeats his treatments every Thursday for a total of three and then gets two weeks off. At the end of the first round, I’m at his place on a Saturday. He’s watching TV and I’m writing, and I happen to glance at him. His cheeks are as pink and flushed, almost sunburned looking.
Crossing the room, I touch his forehead with the back of my hand and he feels terribly warm. He has a thermometer in the bathroom, so I go get it. A half hour later, we’re headed to the hospital. One of the problems with chemo is it kills your white blood count and makes you very susceptible to infections. Chemo patients must be very cautious and if they spike a fever, they need to be admitted to the hospital. That’s where Drew ends up. He has what’s known as an FUO—a fever of unknown origin. And it can be life threatening. His temperature was one hundred three when I took it. I’m freaking, but don’t want him to know it.
As soon as we get to the hospital, they put him on a gurney and wheel him into one of those tiny cubicles. A nurse comes in and attaches an IV line to the port they put in prior to his chemo—it’s a direct line into his bloodstream that’s attached to his chest. This way they never have to stick an IV into his vein. Then she draws several tubes of blood and
says a doctor will be in.
An hour later, his oncologist cruises in, smiling.
“How do you feel?”
“Hot,” Drew says.
“Yeah, we’re doing blood cultures now, but you know how long those take. You’ll be out of here before they grow anything. I’m starting you on the big gun antibiotics prophylactically. Sorry man, but you’re in for the duration. We’re gonna add some stuff to your regimen to prevent this, too. You’ll get a room in about an hour. You need anything?”
“Can you cover my rotation for me?”
His doctor laughs. “I’ll get your attending in here. We’ve got you, man.” Then he turns to me and says, “No kissing and wash the hell out of your hands. I would prefer if you wear a mask and gloves around him, Cate. He’s in a risky situation right now.” He walks to cart, grabs a box of masks and gloves, and hands them to me.
“I understand.” Then he’s gone.
Before I get the chance to speak, Drew says, “Go home, babe. I’m so sleepy. I’m probably gonna nap all afternoon. This fever takes it out of me. You’ll be able to get your work done.”
“Maybe so. I can bring you back something to eat.”
“No, I meant go home home. I’m in for the week. I feel wasted. You have so much work and I know you’re blowing smoke up my ass when you say things are fine. Just go home and get your shit done. Come back Friday and I’ll be ready to go home. I promise.”
“Drew! I can’t leave.”
“Cate, come here.” He pats the bed so I sit. “Realistically, what can you do? And give me an honest answer.”
He’s right. I can’t do anything for him that he can’t do himself.
“See. I can hold my own dick to pee,” he says, winking at me, “but if I really needed help with that, I would tell you.”
I can’t help the bubbly giggle that spurts out of my lips.
“And my hands would be happy to hold your dick.”
“Oh, don’t I know it. Go, babe. Go pack up and call me when you get home. I’ll text you every time I wake up, but I’ll try not to bother you. I love you more than hockey, but you have shit to do.”
The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset Page 29
