“Your white blood count is teetering on the edge, Avery, but we need to stay ahead of this thing, so we’re going to go ahead with today’s treatment and keep a close eye on things.”
The false hope in me deflated.
Dr Privit had a good chat with us about my symptoms and what I could be expecting in the coming weeks – none of it good. Then she thanked Cooper for coming home, as I had many times.
“No red-soled shoes today, Avery?” she asked, and I knew as well as she did her question had nothing to do with shoes.
I shook my head.
“Her lioness is having a wee rest,” Cooper said. “We’ll wake her soon.”
Suzanna glanced between us before focusing on Cooper. “Sounds like you know your sister well.”
He smiled. “Twin power.”
“Nice. Well, please call if you’re concerned, both as her brother and a doctor.” She rose from her chair to shake his hand.
“I will. Thanks, Doc.”
“You too, Avery. If anything is worrying you or doesn’t feel right, don’t hesitate to call.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Chemo was different today. There was no more jovial talk of movie stars or sexy weekends. No talk of bucket lists and fantasies. There was no red nail polish being passed around or indecent proposals. It was just me and a room full of women I knew – but couldn’t bring myself to banter with – and this bloody bag of poison trying to kill me and save me at the same time.
“I don’t want to be here,” I whispered to Thomas as he leant down to squeeze my hand.
“I know, sweets, but this is the battle you’ve been called into. Right now, it's just mud-flinging, knee-grazing and bone-breaking ugliness, but bloody, broken and mud-covered, you’re still a force to be reckoned with, Avery Bishop, and cancer better watch out.”
He touched his hand to my shoulder, then left to continue with his duties. I leant back in my chair and rested in his words as Cooper sat beside me and slipped his hand into mine.
“You okay, hun?” Annie asked an hour or so later when I waved off the morning tea trolley.
“No,” I answered.
“You’ll have days and sometimes weeks like that. Just remember what you’re fighting for.”
Tears pricked and then made themselves known. “Sometimes I don’t know if this is all worth it.”
Cooper remained silent, but his touch was heavy with grief.
Annie’s knowing expression was full of compassion and my heart responded as if hers was communicating without words.
“It's worth it, Avery. It’s worth it for those precious moments you have with your Prince Charming and those clients you seem to love so much, and it's worth it for the light you bring into our lives.”
“It’s so hard.”
“I know. We know.” She reached out to take Tracey’s hand, and as if rehearsed, every hand in the room was held by someone.
What remained of my composure left me as I clung to the invisible thread that had been woven between us.
“On days like this, we draw on each other’s strength.”
I closed my eyes and imagined her in the savannah, surrounded by her sisters. She was injured and lying in the dirt, but they were standing strong, their heads held high, allowing her the safety of their presence … of their wisdom in battle.
“Let yourself feel it. It's all okay,” Tracey added.
I squeezed Cooper’s hand, took deep breaths through quivering lips and entered the eye of that vicious storm.
You’re not alone in this.
34
The next time I saw an international number flash on my phone, I picked up. Not because I was feeling great, but because I craved his voice.
“Hey.” I leant against the headboard and tucked my knees into my chest.
“Hey,” he responded in kind. “You okay?”
“I’m okay.” I wasn’t lying. I glanced over at my dressing table and saw my heels standing in prime position. A daily reminder.
“I was worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry … I wasn’t really able to—”
“I know, babe. Sally keeps me updated.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
“There’s nothing to apologise for, Ave. I have no expectations of you.”
“I miss you,” I whispered, after a brief hesitation.
“Do you need me to come home?”
“No. I want you here, but I need you to stay there.”
“So, do I come home or stay?” he asked.
“You stay, Harry. You don’t get the ugly – you just get the good. That was the deal.”
“I didn’t make that deal. I said I’d take it all.”
I remembered sitting on his lap as he told me that he knew he loved me and was all in. Just like it did in the moment, the memory filled me with both warmth and dread.
“You stay. If you turn up here, I’ll send you back.”
“You wouldn’t,” he countered.
“I would.” By the sound of the silence on the other end, I suspected he believed me. “Now tell me about Samoa. Any more tattoos to report, or sexy island girls drawing your eye?”
“No chance on both counts.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “The weather?”
“It’s pretty dire if we’re already talking about the weather.”
“Not when I’m freezing half to death and you’re living the high life in the island sun.”
“The weather’s good, but I’m in the clinic for fourteen plus hours a day, so I’m not exactly getting beach time.”
“Tell me,” I asked, wanting to know details.
“We have an ophthalmologist here from Switzerland.”
“What the heck is that?” I wasn’t sure I could repeat the word.
“An eye surgeon.”
“Why didn’t you just say that, you big show-off? And while you’re at it, you can just call yourself a kids’ brain doctor. I mean, come on! What’s with all these fancy names?”
Harry laughed. “Well, anyway, the ophthalmologist and I—”
I huffed, and he started the sentence again to punish me.
“The ophthalmologist and I operated on this little girl who’s been blind since birth, and this morning we got to take the bandages off.”
“And? Could she see?” I asked impatiently.
“It was the most beautiful thing ever, Ave. I wish you could’ve seen her face when she saw her mum for the first time.”
He paused to allow me to respond with words, but I was too busy stifling an ugly cry with my hand to say anything more than a muffled, “Tell me.”
“Her whole family filed in one by one. She identified their voices and then traced her fingers over their faces to study their features. I’ve performed a lot of surgeries but witnessing the moment when a blind person sees their loved ones for the first time … there’s not much that compares.”
“You’re amazing.” I sniffed.
Harry paused. “I’d leave it all, Avery, if you need me to come—”
“I know,” I interjected. “And I love you for it, but I don’t want you here, Harry. Not when you could be there saving lives, giving blind people sight, creating miracles. I want you in my dreams, not my nightmares.”
“But, Ave—”
“No, babe. I have Cooper and Sally. I don’t want you here in this.”
“Okay,” he said graciously, but I could hear the frustration in his voice. “Just pick up, even if it’s just to hear my voice, to show me you’re okay.”
“I’ll try.”
“Ave …” he countered.
“Harry, it's a bit hard to answer the phone when my head’s down the toilet. If I’m able, I’ll pick up … I promise.”
I heard muffled voices in the background before Harry announced he had to go.
“Lie on the beach for me one day.”
“I will. I love you.”
“You too, Prince.”
The
phone went silent as Harry rushed off to save someone’s life. I slid down on the bed and held the phone to my heart as I remembered chasing him down in the park and falling into his arms like a helpless maiden. I’d called him Superman. I smiled with the realisation that Dr Harry Whittaker truly was a real-life superhero.
I woke two hours later feeling stronger than I had in weeks and decided to take advantage. I showered, shaved and chose an outfit that was comfy but still socially acceptable, then walked into my bedroom, took my heels off my dressing table and slid them onto my feet.
I strutted back to the mirror and took a good look. When I saw her stare back at me, I smiled and breathed her into my bones.
“Hello, my old friend.”
Cooper was standing in the doorway with Thai takeaways when I turned around. I kicked up one of my heels to show them off.
He grinned. “Looking good, sis. Talking to your man seems to have done the trick.”
I managed to eat a small plate of dinner and keep it down, which was a mean feat, then we all cuddled up on the couch and watched Dirty Dancing – my choice, of course, because my lioness was in charge, and she wanted to remember. Instead of getting swept up in Johnny and Baby’s romance, I closed my eyes and lost myself in my own, and it was more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen on a TV screen.
Sally nudged me. “You watching your own movie, hun?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I told you it was a good one,” she whispered.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
I laughed as Cooper launched off the couch and announced he was going out. “Enjoy your movies, ladies – both of them.”
“We will,” we chorused, giggling like giddy teenagers.
35
The ulcers came like fire, followed by excruciatingly itchy skin, but I managed to cope enough to return to work part-time. Harry’s return home was delayed due to complications with a patient in Australia and then an emergency back in the clinic in Samoa.
Cooper decided to extend his stay. He said it was to look after me, but I was pretty darn sure it was a ploy to meet Harry against my wishes. That was a battle I’d lost the will to fight.
I reduced my clientele to a manageable load so I could have some semblance of normality at work but not be tempted to overdo it and risk my health.
I received a gift basket and gorgeous bunch of peonies from Michael, thanking me for helping Georgia, which was perfectly timed as a welcome back to work.
Stuart and Jasmine still had a fair way to go to gain back the trust they’d lost but had been making steady progress.
Abi was allowing Joanne to play certain types of music at home, although rock was still off the menu, which was understandable. Curtis had been found and charged with Abi’s rape as well as two others, which broke her heart – but despite huge feelings, she was managing well.
Ingrid had been trying hard with the breathing techniques, and getting up earlier was having a positive impact on her psyche; but overwhelm and angry outbursts were still ever present, and she needed more from me than I was able to give. Thankfully, albeit reluctantly, she agreed to see one of my colleagues rather than go it alone.
The nausea was ever present, even with the help of antiemetics. On rough days, I was able to push through into the eye of the storm. Sometimes I was in the savannah – sometimes I was lying on the beach with Harry, admiring his sexy behind – sometimes I was skydiving or lying in Harry’s arms. I took Tracey’s advice and allowed myself my moments, my days in bed, my grief, then drew on my strength and dragged my sorry butt out of bed and into those heels. Even if the baggy trackpants I was wearing covered any sign of them, just the knowledge they were on my feet made me raise my chin and claim my territory.
I felt strong and in control – despite the uncertainty of every day – until I was standing in the bathroom pulling my hair up into a loose ponytail, preparing to go for a short walk around the park with Cooper, when a handful of hair came away in my hand.
There I was standing in my trackies and red-soled shoes, feeling like I had this, and my mane was falling out in chunks. A string of profanities echoed in the tiled room.
“Hey mate, she’s going to have to call you back.”
I looked up to see Cooper staring at me from the door, dumbstruck.
“Give me the phone,” I demanded.
“My mane’s falling out!” I cried into the phone.
“What do you want to do?” Harry asked, as if I had a choice.
“I don’t know! I love my hair. You love my hair ... Harry, it’s falling out!”
“It’s okay, Ave. It’ll grow back.” His words sounded far away, lost in a place where hopes were free.
I stood mesmerised by the clump of hair in my hand, then spun around to the doorway where Cooper remained frozen in place.
“If you’re just going to stand there like an idiot, go away!”
My useless right now, but amazingly supportive brother, knew a war zone when he saw one. He cautiously backed out of the room with his hands raised in surrender.
“I assume that wasn’t meant for me,” Harry said.
“No, but if you’re not going to help, you can bugger off too.” I was seething. Not at Cooper … not at Harry … just at the whole damn world.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.
“I’m losing my hair, Harry. What the hell do I do now?”
“Trackpants or heels, babe?”
What a stupid question. “Both.”
“What do you mean both?”
“I mean, I’m wearing both. What’s that got to do with this situation right now?” I dropped my handful of hair into the bin and reached back up. When I pulled my hand away, it was full again. “Damn it! Harry, it’s all coming out. My hand is full of hair right now.”
“It’s okay, babe. Listen ...”
“I’m listening.” I shook the hair out of my hand frantically, hit speaker phone – so I could use both hands –then leant down and pressed my palms against the cold vanity.
“The trackpants are about letting life happen to you – the heels you wear to take your control back.”
I inhaled a deep breath.
“Which one is it, Ave? You need to choose.”
“Wait, just wait.” I stepped out of my heels, then slid the trackpants and singlet off. I was standing in my underwear in front of the mirror with huge chunks of hair missing from my head. I narrowed my eyes and willed her to take control.
I saw her surrounded by the enemy.
She knew she was surrounded by love.
These are the times we draw on each other’s strength.
“Ave?”
I slipped my feet into my heels and raised my chin. “Heels, Harry. I chose the heels.”
The phone went quiet, then someone called Harry’s name. His answer was muffled, as if he’d held the phone to his chest.
I took a good long look at my mane, my pride, my femininity, and silenced the part of me that was being suffocated by fear and uncertainty.
“You ready?” Harry asked, coming back into focus.
“For?”
“To shave that sexy head of yours.”
I inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to absorb some of the excitement from his voice. “I don’t have any—”
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Cooper yelled triumphantly from the doorway, clippers in hand. “What the heck are you doing in your underwear?”
“She’s what? Harry called out. “Did you seriously strip, Avery? That’s brilliant.”
“I chose the heels,” I said, flicking one up in the air to show Cooper.
“I’m sure you didn’t have to choose only the heels,” he murmured, handing me the clippers.
“I love you,” I said with all the sweetness I could muster. “How do I work these things?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
I looked up to see Cooper had rallied the troops. “Hey, Sal.”
“I feel like I’m missing out here,” Harry said before yelling out again in a muffled tone.
“Babe, you can go if they need you,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t.
“No chance. I’m not missing the big moment.”
“Hey, Harry,” Sally called, plugging in Cooper's clippers. “Do I get to strip down to my underwear too?”
“No!” the boys chorused, then Harry added. “Hey Cooper, I need evidence – can you record it for me?”
“No way,” I said. “I’m standing here in my crusty underwear.”
“It’s not crusty,” Sally protested.
“Change it.”
“Which one?” I asked Harry, past caring what anyone else thought.
“The honeymoon suite one,” he said without hesitation.
Cooper’s protest rang out as I pushed past Sally to run into my walk-in wardrobe. I ignored it.
Sally caught on to the fact Harry had said ‘the honeymoon suite’ and got all hysterical. Meanwhile, I’m doing the fastest underwear change in history, trying to make sure I was decent-ish before I walked back into my overcrowded bathroom.
“Oh, yeah … they’d work for a wedding night,” Sally gushed.
Cooper swore under his breath.
“I want a video, Cooper,” Harry repeated.
Cooper huffed, then pulled his cell out of his pocket. “I feel like I’m being forced into filming something X-rated with my sister as the lead. I’d like to say publicly … this is not cool.”
“Suck it up, bro,” I said. “This is not about you.”
My tone was enough for him to shut his gob and hit record.
“You ready?” Sally asked.
I leant over the sink, closed my eyes and offered a silent nod.
My hair gave little resistance. In fact, I probably could have done away with the clippers and saved everyone the drama.
When the buzzing ceased, Sally smothered my head with shaving cream and finished the job with a cut-throat razor.
“All done – you can look now.”
You can look … “I don’t think I can.”
There was a muffled shout from the phone again … this time more urgent and it shook fear from the driver’s seat.
Then She Roars Page 17
