The Letter

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The Letter Page 4

by Mary Crawford


  Rocco frowns. “Just like that?”

  “Oh, he gave me a chance to save my job. All I had to do was agree to sleep with him.”

  “What a disgusting cad! Couldn’t you file charges or something? That has to be illegal!”

  “It is — but remember I was fresh out of college. I was the new kid on the block and he was senior management. It was his word against mine. He made sure there were no witnesses.”

  “Of course he did. That’s what jerks like him do. I feel like I need to apologize for my entire gender.”

  I wince. “I hate to tell you this. The story gets even worse. So, since I lost my plum, high-paying job I had to move in with a couple of good friends from college. At first it worked out okay. I did some tutoring and test proctoring. I even sold makeup at the mall. It wasn’t glamorous, but I was making ends meet.”

  “Still, it had to be discouraging to graduate from college and end up working in jobs like that.”

  “It was. But I was just buying time until the right job came along. My grades in college were stellar, so I was sure I could land another position soon.”

  “What happened?”

  “One of my roommates decided to become obsessed with the other one. Even though we had all been just friends for years, JR suddenly decided Juliette wasn’t free to date. When she tried to go out, he attempted to kill her.”

  “You wouldn’t believe how many domestic violence calls we respond to. It’s horrifying.”

  “After testifying at his trial, nothing shocks me anymore. The whole experience shaped my career. I used to think I might be interested in covering politics. In a way, I guess I still do. But now I focus on how political decisions impact crime.”

  “That’s all very interesting. But it doesn’t explain your random medical tests,” Rocco says with a puzzled look.

  “I told you it was convoluted,” I explain. “After the trial, Juliette couldn’t stand to live in the house where she was attacked. My grandma had recently passed away and gave me a small inheritance and I used the money to purchase the house from Juliette’s parents. They were just happy to get it out of their hands, so they let me have it for dirt cheap. I remodeled the whole thing.”

  “It’s a terrible way to get a house, but a nice way to turn around a bad situation,” he comments, seeming to struggle to find the right words to say.

  “Before the trial, the police department warned my elderly neighbor, Edna, that she should be on the lookout for unusual activity. She took it upon herself to become an amateur sleuth. She considered it her responsibility to watch out for me. Of course, I didn’t learn about this until years after the fact. Edna made up reasons to check up on me. She brought over meals and fresh food from her garden. Edna would bring over her dog for me to visit in case I was lonely. Soon, she started stopping by my place a couple times a day just for coffee. When she found out my parents live clear across the United States, she made me one of her honorary grandchildren. She buys me gifts for every holiday — not just Christmas but like Arbor Day.”

  “How cool is that? I bet she makes amazing cookies, doesn’t she?”

  “Oh, you have no idea! At Christmas time, I eat so many sugar cookies I practically need a crane to get me back over to my house. So, you can see why I feel like I owe Edna the world.”

  Rocco nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “It started out small. First, Edna needed new shoes, and she wanted me to take her shopping. Nothing wrong with that, right? That’s all pretty normal. Then, she had to go in for some sort of x-ray where she had to drink barium. She was afraid it would make her throw up. She wanted me to talk to her in the waiting room to keep her calm. I figured it was the nice thing to do. So, I went with her. I’ve never seen anyone shake so bad over having to drink a small cup of fluid. I thought she would pass out.”

  “Wow! I wonder if she had a previous bad experience?”

  “The next time she asked me to go on a strange outing; she told me she was scared to go to the eye doctor because they were planning to dilate her eyes. She has glaucoma and she needs it tested routinely. All of a sudden, she wanted me to have an eye exam because her doctor was retiring. She wanted me to check out the new doctor to see if he was okay. Reluctantly, I agreed because she was so afraid of her last medical procedure. I guess it’s a good thing I went. My contact lens needed an adjustment because it was putting pressure on my cornea.”

  “Sounds like it was a good call.”

  “I thought the eye doctor would be the end of it, but then she wanted me to get a mammogram with her. She steadfastly refused to get one unless I went with her. At her age, I knew it was an important test, so I went for what I thought was an inconsequential test. Edna was so nervous, and it seemed like such a small thing to make her happy — I wasn’t even sure they did a full mammogram. When I never got results, I thought maybe the whole thing was just an elaborate charade.”

  Rocco runs his hand through his hair. He reaches for the file as he asks, “May I?”

  Confused, I hand it back to him. He scoots closer to me and pulls a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulls what looks like an x-ray film out of the file. He holds it up to the sunlight. “I know you think this was all some big screw up on the part of the hospital, but this strange comedy of errors might just save your life.” Rocco points to what looks like a white shadow on my left breast. “Like I said, I’m not really a doctor, but I scored quite well on all my anatomy and physiology stuff in my paramedic course work. If money was no object, I probably would’ve gone to medical school. The way the body works, or in this case, doesn’t work — fascinates me. I suspect this area is what caused the radiologist to have concern in your case. He gave you a BI-RADS score of five. It means the radiologist is ninety-five percent sure you’ve got an issue which requires further study.”

  “Let’s be honest, all that is just a polite way to say I’ve got cancer, right?”

  “Nothing is definitive quite yet. It could simply be an anomaly on your mammogram — but, you need to have a look at it, for sure.”

  “How is this even happening to me? I wasn’t supposed to have a mammogram for a couple decades. I have too much to do to have cancer. I can’t die! I’m on the verge of proving a young man has been incarcerated for a crime he didn’t commit. Why does this have to happen right now?”

  “My best friend died from leukemia when I was nine. There is never a good time to get cancer and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make sense of it. You might as well not waste your energy trying.”

  A million thoughts race around in my brain. “I love my job, Rocco, but Word Soup PNW is just a little upstart paper. Our health insurance benefits are almost nonexistent. What am I going to do? Passion for my job doesn’t cover medical bills!”

  I tremble as panic sets in. A tear slides down my cheek and Rocco reaches up and wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

  “I don’t know all the answers. But, one of my good friends is a doctor. Jaxson’s specialty is orthopedics, but he can steer us in the right direction. If he doesn’t know the right answer, he can find us someone who does.”

  I pull away and look at Rocco incredulously. “We? I know the paperwork says we’re married, but the truth is we are still strangers and you’re not responsible for me. You can walk away and pretend we never met.”

  Rocco shakes his head. “I suppose I could, but unless you want me to — I’d rather not.”

  “Why on earth would you want to stick around? Whatever happens, it won't be fun,” I argue.

  “Well, I’m not a huge believer in random coincidence. I figure there was a reason I was plopped into the middle of your life, so I might as well stick around and see why I was invited to the party. Besides, you probably could use an extra friend or two.”

  Rocco’s words bring me up short. “That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. I need to think about it for a while. I have so much to consider. My whole life has been turned upside d
own.”

  Rocco reaches out, grasps my hands and gives them a squeeze. “I understand. You know how to get hold of me. If it goes to voice mail, I’m not ignoring you — it just means I’m on shift. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  Andre lays his chopsticks down on the edge of his plate and leans back in his chair. “Mal, I get why you’re freaked out about the cancer thing. Anybody in their right mind would be.” He leans forward and takes a sip of his ice water. “But, you have to run this whole thing about Rocco by me again — because from the cheap seats, it looks like the dude has been nothing but perfect. If I were in your shoes, I’m not so sure I’d be so quick to kick him to the curb.”

  I stick my tongue out at Andre as I tease, “Oh shut up! You’re only saying that because you think he’s cute. What would Philip say?”

  “My amazing fiancé would compliment me on my good taste. He thought Rocco was scorching hot too. You didn’t notice him taking a few candid shots the other night? Philip is almost finished with the portrait he’s been working on. He was searching around for his next subject. Your knight in shining armor might perfectly fit the bill.”

  I scoff. “Rocco is hardly my knight in shining armor. If anything, he’s more like my own personal Grim Reaper.”

  “I don’t know. I’m starting to change my opinion about the guy — and not simply because he’s adorable. He worked awfully hard to reach you. I didn’t make it easy to get to you and he wasn’t dissuaded. If he didn’t care about you, he could’ve thrown the file in the trash and not thought another thing about it. So, in my book he gets bonus points for going above and beyond the call of duty to be a better-than-average citizen.”

  I sigh. “But why? Why would someone like him do something like that for me?”

  Andre shrugs. “As hard as it may be to believe — especially in our line of work — maybe he is just that nice.”

  “What do you think of his theory that our paths crossed because we were destined to meet or something?”

  “It’s either that or a straight up miracle. There’s no other plausible explanation for all of this.”

  I stare long and hard at Andre. “Pardon my skepticism, but I find it hard to believe anything to do with cancer could be considered a miracle.”

  “I understand. I also know you’ve been telling me you wish you had more friends in Oregon. This guy is offering you the chance to make more connections here, what could it hurt to reach out? You just have to fight your natural shyness and go out on a limb. I think you should. I bet he’s one of the good guys.”

  “The question is … will I even be here long enough to find out for certain?”

  “That may be a whole different kind of fight. But, I have a feeling Rocco Pierce would happily stand by your side if you invite him to be there.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ROCCO

  I SCOOP A BOX OFF of my parents’ porch on the way through the door. “UPS driver was here early,” I comment as I place the box in front my dad before I grab a cup of coffee. When my dad sees the return address, he grins. “Oh, great! Your mother’s Christmas present came. Maybe you should hide this at your apartment. She always snoops out my best hiding places.” Finally, my dad looks up at me. “Geez! You look awful. Long night?”

  I nod. “We had back-to-back fatals. First, there were a bunch of kids drag racing while drunk. One of them flipped the car and damn-near decapitated themselves. There was nothing I could do there. They were dead before we ever pulled up. Blood-alcohol count was twice the legal limit.”

  “Some people never learn,” my dad mutters. “Booze and cars never mix.”

  “I no sooner cleared that scene when I was called out again. I’m not even sure why PD called us. Maybe they thought we could do some good. We tried resuscitation, but it was far too late. A mom and her eighteen-month-old daughter died of carbon monoxide poisoning. It appears as if she was trying to heat the house with a gas oven. I’m not sure if it was a malfunction or what, but PD found them with the oven door open and all bundled up. Raylene and I couldn’t save them.”

  “Oh son, I’m so sorry. Are the police investigating what killed those poor people?” my dad asks with a look of sympathy.

  “I honestly don’t know, Dad. It seemed pretty straightforward on scene.”

  “That’s a real shame. Nobody should have to die simply to stay warm.”

  “I agree.” I take a long sip of coffee and try to mentally shake off my shift.

  “Want some breakfast? I’m about ready to fry up some eggs and bacon.”

  “Sure. I just stopped by to pick up my laundry.”

  My phone beeps and I check my messages. I can’t hide my smile from my dad. “Good news?” he asks as he walks toward the refrigerator.

  “The best I’ve had in a while. It seems I’ve just picked up a late lunch date with Mallory.”

  “Mallory? Is she the gal your mom was telling me about with cancer?”

  “Well, I don’t know for sure she has cancer, but she probably does,” I reply, choosing my words carefully.

  “Seems to me that would be something a person would know, wouldn’t they?” my dad asks with a puzzled expression.

  “Probably in a normal situation, but nothing about this has been normal. It’s complicated.”

  “Are you sure you want to get involved? Doesn’t your job have enough drama?”

  “I already am involved. Strangely enough, I’m in no hurry to get uninvolved. I feel drawn to Mallory — even before I met her I felt compelled to find her. Now that I have connected with her, I can’t get her off of my mind.”

  My dad examines me closely from head to toe. “I know you didn’t ask my opinion, but if you want to catch this young lady’s attention, you better go home and get some rest, get cleaned up and go visit yourself a barber. You are looking a little rough around the edges.”

  “Haven’t you heard? Women find the rugged look sexy these days,” I comment as I rub my fingers over my beard.

  “There’s rugged and then there’s Sasquatch’s cousin. I think you crossed that line a few days back, son.”

  “Good point. I’ll stop by and see Stan before lunch.”

  “Do you need your mother to give you a refresher on table manners?”

  “No, I think I’ve got it. I’m not completely uncivilized.”

  “Your mother is very concerned about how much fast food you eat. She sees the receipts in your pockets when she does your laundry. Why is your mother doing your laundry, by the way?”

  “Have you ever tried to talk her out of something?” I counter with a laugh.

  My dad shakes his head in resignation. “Good point. I’ll see you next week when you drop your next load off. You can tell me how your date went then.”

  Mallory erupts in a fit of giggles as my shot bounces so wide it goes into the gravel beside the course. “Nothing personal Rocco, but I hope your aim is better when you handle needles.”

  “Inserting IVs is a completely different skill set than playing miniature golf. Besides, I’m a tad sleep deprived.”

  Mallory looks dismayed as she covers her mouth. “Why didn’t you say something? I just burst into your life and demanded an audience like I’m royalty. I didn’t even think about the fact you might have worked graveyard.”

  I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Mallory, don’t worry about it. I am exactly where I want to be.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see our waitress walk toward our table on the covered patio. “Looks like our food has arrived. Shall we?” I offer to take her golf club.

  She hands it to me and smiles. “Sure. I’m starving.”

  As we’re walking toward our table, a woman abruptly scoots her chair back into the pathway. I place my hand on the small of Mallory’s back and guide her around the intrusion. When we reach the table, I pull out the chair for her and help her out of her jacket.

  After I sit down and place my napkin on my lap, she studies me with open curiosity. “I have be
en on some interesting dates lately. Rarely does anyone impress me so quickly. You’re off to a good start.”

  “That’s good to hear. I had to make up for my less than heroic performance at mini-golf.”

  Mallory takes a couple bites of her salad. “This is amazing. Thanks for not hassling me for ordering salad on a date. I just like salad for lunch. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good Caesar salad. Listen to me babble.”

  I squeeze her hand in what I hope is a reassuring gesture.

  “Maybe I’m not ready for this conversation after all. I’m sorry for bothering you when you should be sleeping. Thank you for lunch though. It’s just the break from reality I need right now.” She turns away and tries to hide her face as she wipes away tears with the back of her hand.

  I hand her a napkin. “It sounds like you could use a shoulder to lean on. My offer of friendship still stands.”

  Mallory sets down her fork and turns toward me with an intense, somber expression. “You may be sorry you ever opened that stupid letter —” she lets her speech trail off.

  “I don’t see it that way at all. I don’t know what happened, but the hospital didn’t have you in their computerized systems. So, if I hadn’t gotten your record, you may never have received your results. It was a good thing bits and bytes got scrambled in cyberspace.”

  Mallory sighs. “Results. I wish I had actual results. Instead, what I have is someone’s guess that there might be a problem. I don’t even know what to do with that. I feel so frustrated. I’m stuck. I don’t know where to go from here.”

  “I hope you don’t mind. I talked to my friend, Dr. Jaxson Shepherd. His mother-in-law had lung cancer a few years ago —”

  “Did she survive?” Mallory asks anxiously.

  “Yes, Gwendolyn is more than five years cancer free. Her oncologist gave me the number of someone she recommends for the treatment of breast cancer.”

  “Wow! You didn’t have to do any of that stuff. You barely know me,” Mallory stammers.

 

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