“Babe, I really need to go. How does it look?”
“She looks smokin’ hot, Harry,” Sally piped up.
I thought about Tracey, Sammie, Annie, Patricia and all the other beautiful bald ladies who stood in this with me and drew on their courage.
“She looks beautiful, man,” Coop offered, his words heavy with emotion. My eyes darted to his before I was brave enough to look at the stranger in the mirror. “It’s different.” I brushed my palm over the smooth surface.
“I’m proud of you, babe, and I can’t wait to see it in person,” he said, then quickly added, “Hey bro, can you send me the video? Sally’s got my email address.”
“Sure thing,” Cooper agreed without further protest.
“Go save the world,” I said, picking up the phone.
“I’m on it. I love you, Avery Bishop.”
“I love you right back, Harry Whittaker.”
“What?” Cooper lowered his phone and stepped into the room with purpose. “Did you just say ‘Harry Whittaker’?”
36
“Harry Whittaker, the world-renowned paediatric neurosurgeon who I idolised at med school?”
“What are you on, Coop? Harry’s not world-renowned, and he’s only five years older than you, so it can’t be him.”
Cooper shrugged. “If it is, he’s the top paediatric neurosurgeon in the Southern Hemisphere.”
“There’s no way. He’s too young for that, and I would have known. He would’ve told me.”
“What are the chances, sis? Two doctors with the same specialty and the same name from the same tiny country – come on.”
“A higher chance than what you’re saying, that’s for sure.”
“Get me a photo,” Cooper demanded.
I shook my head. “This is ridiculous.”
“This guy started writing papers, no … publishing papers in medical journals when he was an intern. He’s a friggin’ medical genius. When his residency finished, he was rolling in offers from prestigious hospitals all over the world. Get me a photo so I can prove it’s him.”
“It’s not him,” I argued, then picked up my phone and started scrolling through the gallery to prove it.
“You don’t need to do that,” Sally piped up from the wardrobe where she’d gone to check out my shoes.
“What do you mean?”
“He is that Harry Whittaker,” she confirmed.
My eyes grew wide. “How the heck do you know?”
“Because I’m a stalker when it comes to my best friend’s lovers, and he confirmed it when I asked him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What difference would it have made? I figured you’d find out eventually.”
“You’ve reeled in a big one, sis,” Cooper joked.
I pushed him out of the way and marched into my bedroom. “Get me my laptop.”
“I’ll do that if you get some clothes on.”
“Deal.” I turned back into the walk-in wardrobe to grab a pair of slacks and a T-shirt. What the fiery hell?
An hour later, I’d learned all I needed to know about this mystery man I’d been dating – a man who’d spent nearly a decade training in the top neuro hospitals in the world and still travels internationally to do consults and seminars – a man who uses cutting-edge technology to slice into children’s brains and, to top it all off, not only volunteers at the clinic in Samoa for two months annually, but also built it, funds it and facilitates surgeons from all over the world to turn up and operate for free.
“He’s a genuine superhero,” I said in shock. “How did I miss this?”
“You were too distracted by his hotness?” Sally offered.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“What difference does it make that he has this whole other life you didn’t know about? Cape, tights, women screaming his name …”
“It’s not funny, Sal.”
“Why is this a big deal? I thought you’d be proud to be dating someone so accomplished and passionate about their work – someone who’s making a difference in the world.”
“That’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? If I ruin him by dying, the whole world is going to hate me.”
“Oh, Avery,” Cooper said. “That’s just stupid.”
Sally grunted and headed for the doorway. “I’m so glad you’re here, Cooper. You can talk some sense into her. I’ve done this dance fifty times already, and I’ve got muscle fatigue.”
“It’s too late to stop what you’ve started, sis. He’s a good guy.”
“I know.”
“Just let him love you.”
I collapsed on the bed with an exaggerated groan.
“There’s no doubt about it. That guy, superhero or not, is head over heels. As another man who’s passionately in love with his wife, I can tell you … whether you dump him now or leave him down the track, he’s going to be a bit broken for a good while. Love does that to you.”
The painful truth wrapped around my heart and I genuinely couldn’t find the words to argue. As much as I’d protested, as much as I’d fought this very thing, Harry had become so much a part of me I couldn’t possibly let him go.
“And besides, Riri, you’re still early in your treatment. This chemo is going to work – then you’ll have your surgery and do whatever else you need to do to get your life back. Then we’ll celebrate with a wedding in Kenya.”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s gonna happen. I can feel it in my bones.”
I laced my fingers in his as he positioned himself beside me.
“You’ve already got the lingerie sorted, and by the way that man is talking, I’d say you’ve got the husband lined up too.”
Coop pressed an exaggerated kiss to my forehead, then lay back and closed his eyes, leaving me and my bald head with a whole new fantasy and newfound hope in a miracle.
37
I was walking on air after seeing Dr Privit before my second-to-last round of chemo pre-surgery. My bloods were good, the adjusted treatment plan seemed to be working, and my head game was strong.
It couldn’t believe I was excited about someone hacking my breasts off, but truth be known, I was. I’d leapt over the first hurdle and was sprinting for the second. It hadn’t been pretty. My god, it had been the worst kind of torture, designed by the devil himself, but I’d done it, and for the first time in months, I felt as though I had a future to plan for. One month at a time, sure, but I’d take it.
To top it all off, Harry had called this morning to inform me he was coming home in two days, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear. Today was a good day.
I’d told Cooper to go and rack up some donors and equipment for the clinic and leave me to spend some time with the ladies. I did away with my beanie the second I walked into the hospital and wore my baldness proudly. If precious Sammie could do it, so could I.
The second I rounded the corner onto the ward, wolf whistling ensued, so I decided to do the catwalk down the aisle like the good old days.
“It suits you,” Sammie said.
“Thanks, hun,” I replied, claiming my normal seat. “Hey, what on earth are you doing in here? You’ve graduated, remember? No more poison for you.”
“Thank God!” Sammie said. “I had a late start at uni and missed Thomas – so here I am.”
“What, only Thomas?” I slapped my hand to my heart.
“Of course,” Thomas said, inserting my line. “Who else was she going to miss? This motley crew?”
“Hey!” Protests sounded from around the room.
I rested in the easy banter. I’d missed it.
“You look much better,” Annie acknowledged.
“Well, it’s not all heels and lippy – that’s for sure. But I’ve got my surgery date, so that makes this a good day,” I said with a grin.
Congratulations came from all corners.
“So, what’s with the bald head, Hollywood?” Thomas asked. “You want attention or some
thing?”
I smiled. He was a keeper. “Obviously. Why else?”
“Some people,” he joked, finishing up, then checked everyone else before leaving us to our own devices.
Sammie sat next to me and asked me about the big shave. So I told them the whole story: the trackpants versus heels dilemma, Harry telling me to put my sexy honeymoon lingerie on – which led to another string of questions – and Cooper’s protests about filming a porno. The space filled with raucous laughter, their imaginations going wild after the dramatic episode he’d created on his first visit. My life had become a telenovela. Thomas snuck back in to tell us to settle our crazy butts down.
“Yes, sir!” we all chorused with military salutes.
We conversed in whispers, then settled into our respective zones. I was in my favourite turquoise bikini, lying in the Samoan sun, even though I probably wouldn’t fill it out anymore. No, shut up – I still have my beautiful pre-cancer body in my happy place. Okay, I walked into the crystal waters, my face raised to the Samoan sun. That irresistibly alluring scent of masculine hotness wafted past me. Yes, that’s now an actual word; put it in the dictionary already.
Harry was there, of course. The warm water splashed around our legs as he spun me in his arms then drew me deeper. I could hear his voice whispering sweet nothings. I could feel the touch of his hand as he caressed my skin. The touch of his lips.
I miss you, baby. Come home.
“What’s up with her?” I heard, and my heart arrested. I pulled back from Harry and studied his face.
“Who?” I asked. Yes, I’m still in Samoa.
“She’s in her happy place, with her Prince Charming most probably,” I heard Sammie announce, and snapped out of it to see Harry – my Harry – standing next to Tracey with her hand in his.
My eyes and mouth grew wide … the IV lines the only reason I didn’t launch out of my chair.
I watched his gaze move upward, and I reached up to touch my bald head. I gasped.
“It looks beautiful, Sandy.” His words detonated a nuclear bomb in the calm environment Thomas had requested.
“Sandy?” Tracey’s eyes glistened as realisation hit.
“Who’s Sandy?” Sammie asked from beside Annie. “Avery Bishop, close your eyes. You promised – you’ve already got your Prince—” A rush of breath entered her open mouth as her eyes snapped between us. “No way! Dr Sexy Toy Boy is Prince Charming? You have to be kidding me! Of all the men in the world!”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Well, this is a twist no one saw coming,” Thomas announced, re-entering the room to see what all the noise was about.
“Tell me about it.” Sammie narrowed her eyes at me playfully.
I mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.
“Go on, son.” Tracey let go of Harry’s hand and tapped him on the back. Harry’s eyes never left mine as he moved towards me in blessed slow motion.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly. That’s all I had to offer, despite fantasising about this moment for six weeks. I scooted myself to the edge of the chair and trapped him between my legs, as he lowered himself in front of me.
“Hi,” he echoed.
I raised my free hand and burrowed it into his hair. He slid both arms around my back and carefully drew me closer as Thomas hovered nearby paying careful attention to my lines.
When his lips touched mine and that blessed silence rained down, I melted into his arms. So much for severing the connection. A fire alarm could have gone off, and no one would have moved. This was a scene for the box office, and I knew for a fact that no one would be asking for a refund.
When our lips parted, we spoke in whispers, as the rest of the room looked on in silence, enthralled by this new development. Here I was, hooked up to a bag of misery, and all I could think about was getting my man home.
Thomas did his rounds then slid a chair next to mine.
“Thanks, mate,” Harry said as he rose and shook his legs out.
I scooted back and glanced around.
“So, Hollywood,” Harry smirked. “Did you miss me?”
“Wait—” My eyes darted to Tracey’s then back to his. “You knew I was Hollywood?”
“Of course – why do you think I only came in when you weren’t here?”
“But how did you know that?”
Thomas raised his hand as if he was in a courtroom swearing on a bible. “Guilty as charged.”
My mouth widened. “You two know each other?”
“Prince and I go way back.” Thomas leant in to fist pump Harry.
“For how long?”
“Ah, about twelve years,” Thomas answered.
“No. I mean, how long have you known?” I asked of Harry.
“Since we got back from Taupo. That’s when Tracey described this diva who strutted into chemo and flipped their world upside down. I related.”
“Did you know?” I asked Tracey, my mind royally blown.
“Oh, darlin’, I’m as shocked as you are, and to be honest, with everything I know, I fear I’m not ever going to be able to look at you the same again.” She directed the last part at Harry.
He leant in close. “So, how much does she know?”
I grimaced.
Sammie burst out laughing. “Oh, this is gold! You worried she might know about the wild spa se—”
Both Tracey and I cut her off with a loud, “Sammie!” which caused a new bout of hysteria.
Annie watched us intently. “I still can’t believe your Sandy is Hollywood and Dr Sexy Toy Boy is Harry – I mean really – does this stuff really happen?”
“What’s with the Dr Sexy Toy Boy?” Harry whispered.
“Sammie.”
His eyes darted to hers then back to mine. “Gotcha.”
“Seems like it might,” Tracey said, answering Annie. There was a heaviness in her expression, and I understood why. She loved Harry as a son, and he loved me – the girl with an uncertain future.
Harry laced his fingers in mine, which halted my fears. My man was home. I couldn’t allow myself to be anything but thrilled.
“Well, if I can be so bold,” Annie said, “now that I have the whole picture, it really does feel like there was some kind of divine intervention involved.”
Her reference to a higher power caught me off guard.
“I couldn’t agree more, Annie,” Harry said, much to my surprise.
“I didn’t know you were religious,” I whispered.
“Would it matter?” he challenged.
“Well, no … I … it just doesn’t fit the picture.”
“You mean, I don’t fit the stereotype of a believer? Humans weren’t designed to live in boxes, babe. Humanity and the lives we live are far too complex for that.”
“I agree, but—”
I looked up remembering we were in a room full of people battling for their lives and this may not be the best place to have a discussion about God and religion.
“It’s all the sex that’s throwing her off,” Sammie offered.
Heat rose to my cheeks.
“That’s an interesting point Miss Sammie is making over there,” Thomas added while he disconnected Annie’s line.
I didn’t know what to say. Yes, that was a part of it. The thought brought back flashes of memory, none of them helping with my blushing situation, especially with Harry – the source of my discomfort – sitting beside me. I’m definitely going to hell.
“I’m not religious,” he added.
The release of tension was tangible as I relaxed against the back of my chair.
“But I’ve always believed in God.”
“Really?”
“That’s how Mum first met Tracey; her daughter and I grew up going to Sunday school together and sleeping under tables at home Bible study nights.”
“He was a little ratbag back then too, but he turned out alright.”
I smiled. “He turned out amazing.”
“Don’t worry, dear,�
�� Annie said. “Believers come in all shapes and sizes. We all have our own journey to walk and we all look different doing it. Believing in God doesn’t make you any different to anyone else. You still have the same challenges … you just see things through a different lens.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Well, it’s easier to face a big challenge when you know how immensely loved you are. Faith and hope are powerful motivators. For me, God has always been a voice in the dark, whispering things that encourage me to hold on to hope or keep breathing when life has me in a stranglehold. He’s always been there when people have failed … as of course they do. We all do.”
“I don’t understand how you could find God in any of this. Faith and hope don’t seem to change anything, do they? We still have cancer.”
Tracey glanced at Harry for a second before answering as if they shared something intimate. “Avery, we get it. When Lizzie died – Harry’s mum – we journeyed through all of these questions ourselves, and some of us turned away from God for a while, but the truth is … healing doesn’t always come in the physical, and sometimes there can be blessings hidden in our trials.”
I frowned. “Is that another way of saying everything happens for a reason?” I’d heard a lot of that crap when my parents died, which is one of the main reasons I’d turned away and never looked back. My skin tingled as Harry traced his thumb over mine.
“Remember the day when Sammie shared how much you’d inspired her to claim her life back.”
I looked over at Sammie and smiled. Yes, I remembered.
“That is something beautiful coming out of something ugly; some people call it collateral beauty. Your presence in this room has had a significant impact on the atmosphere … on our lives.”
“I’ll second that,” Thomas said as he started working on Tracey’s line.
“You’ve brought laughter into a room full of doom and gloom,” Annie said. “You reminded us that, despite the battle, we’re still alive. That’s what Tracey was trying to say, Avery. Knowing this doesn’t make the cancer suck any less, but it can give you a different perspective – a different lens to see it through.”
For some reason, my heart started racing, and I didn’t know why. I’d had conversations about God with Cooper over the years, but they weren’t like this. I looked over at Harry and thought about what Tracey had said.
Then She Roars Page 18
