Mindy addresses the crowd, “I bet you’re wondering why I called two of my favorite guys up on stage.” Charlie nods vigorously, and the crowd laughs. “Well, I’m so proud of them I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. I just wanted to tell you “Reading Is for Life” has reached out and they want to feature CJ’s World written by Elijah Fischer and illustrated by Charlie Whitaker in their catalog.”
Charlie looks up at his sister in shock. “Our book? In those catalogs that go out to all the school kids? Like all the kids everywhere, all around the world could order it?”
Mindy nods. “Isn’t that cool? You know what’s even better? They want to talk to you and Elijah about having Jiggernut Publishing produce a whole series of CJ books.”
“You mean we might do more than one book? Awesome!” He turns toward Elijah. “Can we?”
Elijah still appears to be processing the news, but he leans forward and says, “Seems like we have an audience to please. Jigger, jig, jig, I’ve learned to never disappoint book lovers. It looks like we need to do some serious brainstorming.”
“Lucky for you, I brought some paper tonight,” Charlie says as he dashes off stage.
Mindy chuckles and shakes her head. “My little brother never goes anywhere at a normal pace. I’m told I was a lot like him as a kid. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed hearing my exciting news. I’m sure you all came to hear my Uncle Aidan sing. As the saying goes, the show must go on.”
Elijah is still standing quietly beside Mindy trying not to let his nerves show. After a few moments she looks up at him and laughs. “I love you — but if you don’t want to sing backup, you might want to go sit down.”
He steps away from the microphone and clears his throat. “Jigger, jig, jig, in a minute. We need to talk.”
“Here?” Mindy squeaks as she points to the audience.
“That’s the plan, jigger, jig, jig.”
Mindy looks dubious. “Are you sure?”
Elijah nods. “Jigger, jig, jig, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. As your friends and family know, it is virtually impossible to surprise you — but I’m going to try.”
“Elijah … are you going to make me cry?” Mindy asks as she covers her mouth with her hand.
“Jigger, jig, jig, it’s a distinct possibility,” he says as he gets down on one knee.
“I don’t even know if my Papa is here to see this,” Mindy cries as she wipes tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“No worries, Mindy Mouse,” Denny Ashley answers from the back of the room. “You know your grandma and I wouldn’t miss one of your concerts for the world.”
Elijah removes a ring from his pocket and holds it out towards Mindy. “Mindy Joe Whitaker, jigger, jig, jig, I’ve been in love with you almost from the moment I met you all those years ago. Jigger, jig, jig, I probably wasn’t anything close to your dream guy. I was awkward, shy and a little funny looking. I had braces, glasses, and I talked funny. Not only that — I randomly hit myself, made funny faces and counted strange things. Sadly, not much has changed. Jigger, jig, jig. The braces came off, I wear contact lenses and I have a better hairstylist. Even so, I still have Tourette’s syndrome. Even with the new medication, I still have tics which make me strike myself and, jigger, jig, jig, blurt gibberish.”
Mindy reaches out and ruffles his hair. “I don’t mind. All that doesn’t matter. It’s not as if I don’t have my own quirks.”
“I know. That’s what makes our love story truly extraordinary. Mindy Jo Whitaker, will you marry me and love me until the end of time and until all of our memories have faded into yesterdays?”
Mindy nods mutely and signs yes in American Sign Language as she holds her hand out for Elijah to slide the ring on.
Aidan O’Brien who had been watching the whole event unfold from his perch on the stage leans into his microphone and says, “For those of you not fluent in sign language, the little girl I watched grow up and consider to be my honorary niece just said yes to the man of her dreams. I couldn’t be happier.”
“Jigger, jig, jig, before I put this on your finger, I want you to look at it,” Elijah says to Mindy as he kisses her gently. “Jigger, jig, jig. Thank you for saying yes. I know it’s a cliché, but you’ve made me the happiest man on the planet.”
Mindy takes the ring from Elijah and looks at it again. “How did you do this? It looks almost exactly like my bracelet!” Turning to the audience, Mindy explains, “When I was adopted, my dad gave me and my baby sister bracelets promising to love us until the stars fall from the sky. It’s the same promise he made our mom when he asked her to marry him.” She holds up her arm for the audience to see. “I’ve cherished this bracelet since that day. The only time I’ve ever had it off is when I had to have my wisdom teeth out.”
“I know how much traditions, love and commitment mean to you. Jigger, jig, jig, look inside the ring.”
Mindy turns the ring in her hand and examines the inside of the band. When she sees what’s printed there, she dissolves into tears. “Darn it! You’re making me ugly cry in front of all these people.” She shields her eyes against the stage lights as she looks out into the audience. “Daddy, you were right. Elijah is perfect for me. He understands everything. Thank you for not letting him give up on me when I was pushing him away. I know all of you in the audience can’t see what this says, but Elijah was thoughtful enough to carry on our family tradition. The engraving reads ‘UNTIL’.” She hands the ring back to Elijah. “I will happily wear this ring until the end of time when there are no more tomorrows.”
The audience erupts in applause as Elijah and Mindy seal their engagement with a passionate kiss. Aidan O’Brien clears his throat as he announces, “I’m going to sing some corny love songs as I give my backup singer a little while to collect herself and show off her ring to her family. Isn’t love grand? Congratulations Mindy Mouse!”
Mindy collects herself and wipes away tears. “By the way, the perfect engagement gift for Elijah and me would be a donation to Locate My Heart. It’s a charity that means a lot to both of us.”
After Elijah and Mindy go backstage, Mallory shuts off her camera. “What an amazing love story! You told me Mindy was phenomenal. You weren’t kidding. I think Elijah is cool too. I thought so when I read his book a few years ago — but he’s even more impressive in person. I’m glad they’re together. I don’t understand everything there is to know about Mindy’s gift, but it has to be exhausting. I bet Elijah understands a lot of what she goes through.”
“My friend Jaxson is married to her aunt. Donda says Mindy is much happier since Elijah came back into her life. Apparently, Mindy has always been the kind of person who carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. Elijah helps share the load. He’s actually quite funny if you can get him to let down his guard around you.”
Mallory grabs my phone and flips through the pictures I took throughout the whole proposal. She sighs wistfully. “This was so perfect. If I can beat the whole cancer thing, I want to find a guy who will do something like this for me. I don’t want extravagant trips, cruises, or a proposal in the middle of an NFL game or anything. I want someone who knows me well enough to know that a single word engraved inside of a ring would make me never want to take it off.”
Mallory’s words remind me that whatever I have with her is based on a very flimsy construct. Although my feelings are quite real, the whole premise is artificial. I’m just pretending to be her husband for now. Somehow, I keep forgetting that I’m not the real thing. I’m not even really her boyfriend. I swallow hard before I carefully choose my words. “I hope whoever you find makes all your dreams come true because it’s not if you beat cancer, but when you beat cancer. I have no doubt we’ll be throwing a party when you are five years cancer free and again when ten years rolls around.”
“Do you truly think so?” Mallory asks. “I’m almost afraid to hope for anything.”
“One of the things we learn as paramedics is that at lea
st part of the outcome is based on mental outlook. Whether it’s faith in a higher power or good old-fashioned hope that things will get better, I don’t know. But, I do know believing in a positive outcome does make a huge difference. As your dedicated, pretend husband I’ll be by your side to cheer you on every step of the way. You can beat a few mutant cells, you are a warrior!”
“I can see your mom’s enthusiasm is contagious. Veronica gave me almost an identical speech this afternoon. Did you guys practice together or something?” Mallory jokes with a tight smile.
“Actually, we didn’t — but like I said, my mom is very persuasive. She is also a very powerful ally. If she is in your corner, watch out. She will move everything in her path to get her way. Lord help the person who crosses her.”
“Maybe we should sic her on the hospital if they don’t hurry up and get the results back to me. I’m tired of waiting.”
“That would be an interesting strategy for sure. But I’m not sure we are ready to go nuclear on the hospital just yet. I’ll ask Jaxson to poke around and see if he can figure out what’s taking them so long.”
“I’d appreciate it. I’m tired of waiting around. I want to make plans — even if they aren’t the plans I had hoped for.”
As I’m walking in the door to go on shift, my phone rings. “This is Rocco,” I answer without looking.
“Well, after all that time waiting, the call was quite anti-climactic,” Mallory declares abruptly, without preamble. “They want me to make an appointment for a biopsy. Maybe it just seems less dramatic because I already knew what the news would be because I found out from Mindy.”
“Aww, I’m sorry Mal. I was hoping Mindy would be wrong, although I knew the odds of that were slim. Word on the street is she’s never, ever been wrong. Are you okay?”
Mallory sighs. “Yes and no. I thought I was coping pretty well — but then Edna came over and saw I’d been crying. She wanted to know why. I couldn’t very well lie to her. Now, Edna blames herself for the fact that she tried to guilt me into getting a mammogram. You know, back in the old days mammograms were a lot more powerful and her generation had the misconception that the tests themselves cause the cancer. That’s not true. The whole conversation was a disaster. Edna thinks she caused all of it.”
“Oh geez, I’m sorry. That’s rough. Sometimes, there’s just no talking people out of their belief systems either. Maybe I can have a conversation with her and explain it.”
Before Mallory can answer, a call goes out over the intercom system and over our radios. Since I am still in the vehicle bay, the sound echoes everywhere. “I’m sorry, a call just came in. I’ve got to go. I’ll try to call on my lunch hour.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were at work. Real quick — they offered me Tuesday or Friday in two weeks, which is better for you?”
“Definitely Tuesday,” I answer. “If I catch some time over lunch, I’ll call you.”
I put my phone in my pocket and lean against the truck as I try to collect my thoughts. Raylene takes one look at me and asks, “You look stressed. Need me to drive? Let me guess, Chevy did something crazy again? Did you have to take him to the vet?”
I shrug. “You can if you want. My day is off to a rough start.” Chevy has had more than his fair share of trips to the local vet. He is not the picture of grace. I shake my head as my expression grows sober. “Unfortunately, my friend’s cancer diagnosis was confirmed this morning. She has to go in for a biopsy to see which stage of breast cancer she has.”
“I’ve been through this before. As much as it sucks, a biopsy doesn’t mean she has cancer yet. They could still rule it out.”
“I sorta doubt that’ll happen at this stage,” I argue. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, my mom didn’t catch her breast cancer until she was late stage IV. So, she passed away when I was in high school.”
I flinch as she shares her story. Raylene notices my reaction before I could cover it with something more socially acceptable. “Sorry, I guess I just wanted to remind you that not everybody’s story is the same. Everyone’s fight is individual to them — your friend’s biopsy might show something, or it might not. Wherever you and your friend go, people will tell you about the most heroic cancer legend whether it be real or fictitious. Other people feel compelled to tell you the goriest, most horrendous battle with cancer they’ve ever heard of without regard to your own pain and suffering.”
I bristle at Raylene’s brutally honest assessment. “Why do people feel they have the right to be that way? Don’t they understand cancer is difficult enough on its own?”
“I think there are a lot of people who are trying to be helpful. As for the other folks, I truly don’t know. Maybe they’re trying to get sympathy points for having the worst sob story. I never understood it even when I had to go into foster care.”
“So, you might have already figured this out. Mallory is more than just my friend — or I would like her to be when this is all said and done. How can I avoid being one of those people who fall into the jerk category?”
“Don’t assume that just because you’re a paramedic with medical knowledge you know what’s going on. Ask questions — but be willing to listen to the answers. Try not to make her entire world about cancer. It’s so isolating when everything in your entire universe is about killing a few cells in your boobs. When you have cancer, you lose your sense of identity and purpose. You can help her keep that. Help her feel beautiful even when she’s hanging her head over a dishpan and her hair falls out in the shower.”
“Mallory has beautiful hair — but if she loses it because of chemotherapy, I won’t fall out of love with her. That would be ludicrous.”
“It’s one thing for us to sit here and calmly discuss it. It’s a completely different thing to live through it. You guys are in a brand-new relationship. She may not even trust her ability to keep your attention in sexy little outfits, high heels and full makeup. She may fear she has no chance if she has to have a mastectomy and chemotherapy and radiation.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, of all the things for Mallory to worry about — that’s insane. I don’t care about any of that stuff. I just want her to live.”
“Rocco, I know all that about you because I’ve been your partner for a long time. Mallory just met you. You need to have a heart-to-heart conversation and let her know what you’re thinking. She can’t read your mind. It might make you both feel better about the situation.”
CHAPTER TEN
MALLORY
ROCCO WALKS UP TO THE table of the little bistro a few blocks from my office where I agreed to meet him for lunch and pulls me up to a standing position. He acts like he hasn’t seen me in months as he drops a passionate kiss on my lips. When we finally break apart, I have to take a moment to catch my breath. You’d never guess we had a family dinner over at Edna’s house only three nights ago. It was a blast retelling the story of Mindy’s engagement and the family gathering we were invited to afterwards at a local truck stop. I was shocked at how normal Aidan O’Brien and his whole crew were. I suppose I expected they would be changed by stardom and somehow different from the rest of us. Yet, I found I have a lot in common with Mindy’s friend, Madison, who used to be a journalist and her grandmother Gwendolyn who is a lung cancer survivor.
I realize I must have completely spaced out during my conversation with Rocco when he snaps his fingers in front of my face. “I know I told you I have a reputation for being a great kisser, but I’ve never had it render a person completely catatonic before. Do I need to kiss you again to reverse some sort of spell?” he quips.
I shake my head as if to release some invisible spell. “No, I’m just stressed, and I got lost in my thoughts of the other night.”
Rocco winks at me. “I hear you. When I think about that night, I get lost too. I get lost in memories of how perfectly you fit in my arms and how I never wanted to let you go.”
I groan in frustration. “I wish I could go b
ack to that night. If everything is so perfect, why is there all this paperwork? It never seems to end.”
“What’s up?” he asks as he examines the piles of paperwork spread out on the table in front of me.
I throw up my hands in frustration. “I don’t even know how to fill half of this stuff out. You know, I could eliminate a bunch of these if you were actually my husband.”
“Sounds good,” he says as he sits down at the table.
“Be serious! I’m just saying for a system who gave you my medical records on a whim, they make it remarkably hard for me to give them to you on purpose.”
“Who said I wasn’t being serious? The way we met may have been a bit unorthodox, but I click with you on levels I haven’t connected with anyone else — ever. Is it so bad that I wish our pretend relationship was actually the real thing?”
I flush deep red and have to fan myself. “Honestly, I thought it was just me. At night I dream we’re a normal family. It seems so real, I’m disappointed when you’re not there when I wake up.”
“We can work on changing your fantasies to reality, anytime you say the word,” Rocco offers with a wink.
You have no idea how much I wish I could make all this go away by merely uttering a few magic words. But I don’t think that’ll work. I point to another stack of papers. “Even if I ignore the paperwork about you, this is about my medical history. You know what? I know nothing about the medical history of Mallory Edmondson, Nariko Yoshida, Mallory Yoshida or whatever the heck you want to call me. It doesn’t matter because either way I have no idea who I was before I was adopted or where I came from. It’s all a mystery.”
“Nariko is your real name?” Rocco asks with a quizzical look.
“Nariko Yoshida is the name written on my adoption papers. I was raised as Mallory Edmondson. My father’s name is Edward Edmondson, the Second. My mother is Rosalind Edmondson. When my family practically disowned me over my decision to move to the west coast and pursue journalism, I went back to my birth name to gain a sense of identity. To be honest, it was a way to hurt them because I felt abandoned. I kept the name Mallory because it was my grandmother’s middle name and she always supported my dreams.”
The Letter Page 7
