“I don’t know. We could always claim we’re newlyweds. One of the guys at the fire station recently got married and when his new wife comes to visit the two of them are all over each other. It’s plausible.”
“I don’t even know what to think. On one hand, I wish I would never have gone near a mammogram machine or heard of breast cancer. Yet, if this had never happened, I would’ve never met you —”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way when I think about the letter. It’s amazing to think how much it’s changed both of our lives already. Just know I’m here for you whatever happens.”
“I know. I’ve never been so scared and so hopeful at the same time.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MALLORY
I DRUM MY FINGERS AGAINST my kitchen counter as I try to ignore the blueberry muffins Edna left for me. I feel terrible. I know she knows something is wrong. But I don’t know what to tell her. If I spill the whole story, I’m sure she’ll feel guilty because she is the one who persuaded me to get a mammogram. I don’t even have any news yet and it’s driving me crazy.
Desperate, I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Rocco. “Please tell me I haven’t interrupted you in the middle of a life and death call,” I blurt when he sounds distracted.
“No, that’s not it at all. I’m simply trying to keep my parents’ boxer, Sugar Ray, from eating the charcoal briquettes that are falling out of the bag. He thinks he’s helping my dad set up the barbecue. He is a sweet dog, but he’s not so bright.”
“Sounds like fun! I love dogs. I’m planning to get one of my own soon.”
“Do you want to come over? My mom has been marinating chicken for the grill. It’ll be delicious.”
“I probably shouldn’t. I would be terrible company — I am a nervous wreck waiting for the results. I don't understand what’s taking them so long to read a simple ultrasound. It must be catastrophic news.”
“Try not to read too much into it. You never know how many emergencies have come in or who got bumped ahead of you. You should join us. It’ll be a great diversion.”
I sigh. “I might as well. It’s not like I’m getting anything done here. I should be reading materials for work — but I can’t concentrate on anything.”
“Sounds like you need a mental health break. Do you like music? A group of my friends are getting together to go to a concert tonight. It’s a little country, a little jazz, a little folk music. It’s awesome.”
I choke on my Sprite and almost drop my phone. “Rocco, throwing on some cutoffs and a tank top so I can have a barbecue with your parents is one thing. Getting ready to go out for a concert with your friends when they’ve never met me is a whole other level of preparation. How would we explain whatever is going on between us?”
“I know you’ve probably been told this before, but my friends are totally chill. Don’t worry about explaining our relationship to them. In fact a few of them even know the basics because they helped me track you down.”
I groan into the phone. “Like that won’t be all kinds of awkward. I don’t think you understand how high the stakes are when women make friends. First impressions are everything. Women plan for weeks before they go to a concert. Wardrobe choice is key.”
“I doubt if it’s too important in this venue. Think a couple of notches above a coffee shop.”
“If you’re sure, I’d love to come. Would your mom mind if I bring some blueberry muffins?”
“She’d love it, but my dad would love you even more. Blueberry muffins are one of his favorites. Mom was planning dinner around three since the concert starts at six. I’m sure my dad will appreciate the extra goodies.”
“I will pack a few extra just for him. See you later.”
“You are a lucky woman Mrs. Pierce,” I comment as Rocco brings me a tall glass of ice-cold strawberry lemonade and Mr. Pierce places a bowl of fresh, plump berries between us. She hands me a small paper plate and pushes a sugar bowl in my direction.
She smiles as her eyes follow her husband until he leaves our line of sight. “You are right. I am incredibly blessed," she comments as she turns back toward me. "I don’t know about you, but I like my fruit with a little powdered sugar on the top. Call me Veronica, or Ronnie. Rocco’s father is Richard, but the only person to call him that is his father. Everyone else calls him Rick."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Veronica. You have such a beautiful rose garden. I especially love your cherry trees."
"I was so surprised to receive the pictures of you and Rocco in my flower garden. For such a sweet, outgoing guy, Rocco is quite camera shy. I never get him to smile for photographs — but you got some lovely pictures of him. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. How did you pull it off?"
I look across the lawn at Rocco who is playing Frisbee with Sugar Ray. I grin at the comical expression on the boxer's face as the toy dangles from his mouth.
"To be honest, I only got those great pictures because your son was being incredibly sweet to me on one of the toughest days I've had in a while. I had to have some testing done at the hospital, and Rocco volunteered to go with me to keep me calm."
Veronica nods. "Yes, he told me a bit about the paperwork problems."
I grimace. "It's awful, isn't it? But the funny thing is, your son isn't treating it like it's devastating news. That's how we got the great pictures. After my test, I was feeling completely stressed out. So, he brought me back to your beautiful garden for an impromptu yoga session and a bit of positive thinking meditation. So, he let me take pictures of him — hundreds and hundreds of pictures. Some of them were serious, others were goofy. Many were sweet and touching. It's almost as if he's actually the husband the hospital thinks he is."
"Would that be so terrible?" Veronica presses. "Rocco needs someone in his life. He carries so many burdens on those wide shoulders of his. He needs a soulmate to share his life with."
"I'm sorry. I like your son — a lot. More than I ever dreamed I could. But, I don't think I'm soulmate material right now. There's a good chance I might not live long enough to see my thirtieth birthday.”
“Oh dear, is that what the tests said? Rocco didn’t mention anything to me about the results.” Veronica answers as tears spring to her eyes.
“Oh, don’t cry, Veronica. I don’t know anything for sure yet. I’m merely guessing because the radiology department is taking forever to get back to me. Rocco tried to tell me it doesn’t mean anything terrible, but I still have a gut feeling. This has been such a crazy situation from the beginning. I’m not sure what to think.”
“I don’t blame you for being scared. I went through something similar when Remy was a baby. Rick was deployed overseas, and I got scary results back on my Pap smear. They thought I had cervical cancer. I didn’t want Remy to be an only child. I had to do all these follow-up exams toting a baby in my arms. I was a basket case because I thought I would have to get a hysterectomy and face cancer all by myself while raising an infant. I was beside myself with grief and fear.”
“What happened?”
“That’s when I got a lesson in the world of false positives. Before then, I had no idea medical exams could be wrong. Lucky for me, I was one of those women who got a false positive result when everything was perfectly fine. Rick and I were afraid to trust the negative test results for a while. Even after he returned stateside, it took us a while to have enough faith to get pregnant with Rocco.”
“I’m glad everything worked out for you. At the moment, I’m numb with fear. I haven’t even told my parents what’s going on because I’m not even sure what to say. They are not particularly supportive of what I have decided to do with my life and I have a feeling that in their minds, breast cancer would turn out to be my fault too.”
“You never know. This might be the perfect opportunity for you to mend fences with your family.”
“I really should. If this turns out to be what I think it is, I might not have much time left.”
“
Don’t let Rocco hear you talk like that. Even if the worst is true, and you have breast cancer, survival rates are much higher these days than they used to be. You are young and strong! Look at it this way; because you helped your neighbor out, you caught it early — way early!”
I walk over and give Veronica a hug as tears flow down my face. “Thank you so much. I needed to hear that. I’ve been turning this over in my head so many times trying to figure out ‘Why me?’ I guess I forget millions of other women face breast cancer and beat it. I can do this. I can be one more.”
“That’s the spirit! Now, I have to figure out the sides for dinner. Do you prefer potato salad or pasta salad?”
“I am a potato salad kinda gal.”
“Pickles or no pickles?”
“Pickles! Is there any other kind?”
“See? I knew my son had great taste in women! Would you like to help me put it together?”
“Sure, I’m not Julia Child or anything, but I like to cook.”
I clutch Rocco’s hand as we weave through the crowd in the big oversized barn. I glance up at the banner hanging above the stage which reads “Locate My Heart”. “We’ve covered several stories involving them at Word Soup. The story of Toby Payne was simply haunting. I can’t get it out of my head. Can you imagine being kidnapped when you’re just a kid and waiting years to be found? I would’ve lost hope. What happened to him was a miracle. The folks at Locate My Heart are miracle workers.”
“I don’t think Toby would disagree with you. It might surprise you to know he is one of your biggest fans,” Rocco responds as he looks down at me and grins.
“No way! You’re making that up!”
“I’m serious. He was teasing me because he works for a company who helps locate missing people and people who have been victims of identity theft. He told me he expected it to be a much bigger challenge. Toby never expected me to hire him to find someone he was already following on social media. He’s probably here tonight. His brother is engaged to the director of Locate My Heart. Would you like to meet Toby?”
“I don’t know. Would he think it’s weird that I know about his story? I feel a bit like an online stalker.”
“With all the media attention Toby’s story received nationally, he’s pretty used to people being curious about it. As long as you don’t put your reporter hat on and grill him about the past, I’m pretty sure he’d be cool with it.”
I giggle. “Okay, I’ll try to tamp down my natural tendencies and not be nosy.” Rocco chooses a table near the stage and pulls out a chair for me. Just then, a group of musicians climbs the stairs to the stage. The entertainment beat is not my thing, but even I know who these people are. “Oh my gosh, Rocco! These are not just any old coffee shop singers — that’s Aidan O’Brien, Tasha and Jude, and Mindy Whitaker. I did some research into Mindy for a story on the use of psychics in solving crimes. I became a huge fan of her music in the process.”
“If you’re a fan of her music, you’ll be even a bigger fan of her as a person. She is extraordinary.”
A young guy with dark hair approaches our table. “Jigger, jig, jig, you mind if I sit here? You guys have jigger, jig, jig, great access to the stage and I have big plans.”
I gesture toward the table. “Sure, there is plenty of room.”
Rocco stands up and greets him: “Elijah, how is your dad? That was a pretty nasty fall Seth took.”
“He’s fine. Jigger, jig, jig, Dad was just embarrassed he fell while he was transferring into the shower. Thanks for not making a big deal out of it.”
Rocco shrugs. “We rescue people from situations like his all the time, it’s our job. It really isn’t a problem. I’m glad he wasn’t hurt. So, tell us about your big plans.”
Elijah pulls out a chair, shrugs off his backpack, and sets it down on the ground. He nods toward me and sticks out his hand. “Jigger, jig, jig, hi I’m Elijah Fisher. I write books.”
Belatedly, I remember to close my mouth before I reply, “Um … I know. I’ve read some of them. As a Japanese-American who was adopted by Caucasian parents, I was bullied a lot as a kid. Behind Glass Bars profoundly spoke to me. I’m Mallory Yoshida, by the way. I write too, but not the way you do. I am a journalist. I cover the crime beat.”
Elijah blushes slightly. “Jigger, jig, jig, thank you so much. That book changed my life in many ways, jigger, jig, jig. It was also the first time I met Mindy. Someday, when I’m not a nervous wreck, remind me to tell you how my — hopefully — soon to be fiancé saved my family’s life.”
“I covered a little of that story for Word Soup, but I would love some inside insight.”
Rocco chuckles, “Hey, Ms. Reporter, I think you overlooked the biggest scoop. If I didn’t miss Elijah’s point, I think he’s planning to pop the question tonight, right?”
This time, I’m the one whose face heats. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I stomped all over your news. Occupational hazard I guess, I tend to focus on all the gory stuff. Congratulations!”
Before Elijah can respond, his attention is drawn to the stage. He sits transfixed as Mindy walks toward him. Her hair is braided artfully to keep her wild blonde hair out of her face while the rest flows in riotous curls down her shoulders. She is wearing a lavender gauze dress which is tied at the waist with a leather belt. She looks like a forest nymph from a fairytale. When she reaches our table, she leans down and kisses him. “How did it sound from over here? I feel like the mic isn’t picking up my acoustic guitar very well.”
“Jigger, jig, jig, I’d like to say you sound gorgeous as usual, but I think you have a point. You’re being drowned out a little by Jude,” Elijah says before he enthusiastically returns her kiss.
Waiting for the moment of intimacy to pass, I add. “I’ve never heard you live, but you sounded pretty good to me.”
It’s almost as if Mindy didn’t notice me sitting at the table and she has the oddest reaction I’ve ever seen. I’m used to people not knowing what to make of my race in small-town Oregon — but her reaction is downright strange. She studies me for a couple of seconds and then sways on her feet as the blood drains out of her face.
Elijah helps her sit in a chair next to me and pours her a glass of ice water from the pitcher sitting in the middle of the table. “Breathe through it, jigger, jig, jig,” he murmurs in her ear. “Information is power, remember?”
Mindy draws in a shuddering breath. “I know. But sometimes I just hate what I see.”
Just then, the full weight of what Mindy is saying hits me. All the parts of the puzzle start to fall into place. I gasp and then pull in a deep breath. “Mindy, I know what you do. I’ve studied your gift and what it’s meant for law enforcement. I can tell from your expression whatever you see about my future is devastating. I also know I’m expecting some results from an ultrasound and follow-up mammogram. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out those two things are probably related. Rocco brought me here tonight because I was going crazy waiting for information from the hospital. If you have news for me, I welcome it, even if it’s bad. Not knowing is absolutely killing me.”
Mindy’s eyes widen with surprise. “I have to be honest. That’s not the reaction I usually get when people learn about what I do. I wish I had better news. From what I see, you’re in for a fight. Breast cancer is not common in people your age, but it does happen. There’s a part of this that makes little sense. It looks like your diagnosis will actually help you in your job. I wish I could spell it out more clearly, but my gift doesn’t work that way. I see bits and pieces. I see a battle, but I don’t see you losing the war — if that makes any sense. You’ve got lots of people on your team.” Mindy stands up to leave.
“Thanks Mindy. I appreciate your honesty, even though it’s hard to tell people bad news.” I rise to give her a long hug.
As she pulls away, she adds one last remark, “I’m adopted too so I understand that it can be complicated, but your adoptive parents should be on your team.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that recently. I’ll work on building some bridges.”
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t give you happy news. I’ve got to go get ready for the concert. I hope you and Rocco enjoy it. I wish our meeting could have gone differently.”
“Surprisingly, I’m not all that upset with how it went. Now that I know, I can start to make some plans. Thank you.”
CHAPTER NINE
ROCCO
MINDY’S SPONTANEOUS ANNOUNCEMENT MAY HAVE brought a sense of peace to Mallory, but I’m not sure it did the same for me. I watch my date quietly as she is enthralled with Mindy and Joe Summers’ performance of Silver Bells. No one seems to mind that it’s nowhere near Christmas as everyone listens to the beautiful, chart topping duet. All I can think about is what Mallory will actually be doing at Christmas time. I’ve seen what radiation and chemotherapy does to patients and it’s not pretty.
After the thunderous applause dies down, Mindy clears her throat. “I’d like to call my little brother, Charlie, and my boyfriend, Elijah, to the stage.”
Elijah looks dazed. “Jigger, jig, jig, this wasn’t part of the plan,” he mutters.
I clap him on the back as I hold up my camera. “It’s okay, we’ve got you covered. Just roll with it.”
“I don’t do well with unexpected changes, jigger, jig, jig,” he wheezes.
Mallory touches him on the forearm as he walks by. “I understand. I’m like that too, but you’ve got this. Whatever you do, she'll be enchanted.”
Elijah looks over his shoulder and mouths, “Thanks.”
Mallory moves her chair closer to mine and leans into my side as she rests her head on my shoulder. “This is going to be romantic,” she whispers as she surreptitiously positions her camera on the table so she can record the encounter.
The crowd laughs as Charlie bolts across the room and bounds onto the stage. Elijah is a little more reluctant as he climbs the stairs and stands next to Mindy. He shields his eyes against the stage lights before he puts his arm around her waist.
The Letter Page 6
