by Jena Wade
“I have cancer,” my dad said.
My mom let out a sob and my dad pulled her into his lap. I’d never seen them do that before. He held her in his arms.
Maddox sucked in a long breath and for a while he didn’t let it out. I looked at him wondering if he was going to suffocate from shock.
Then I wondered if I was going to suffocate as well, since I didn’t think I’d let out a breath yet either. “And you didn’t tell me? How long?”
“We didn’t want to worry you.” mom said.
“Well, I’m fucking worried now.”
Maddox squeezed my hand, silently telling me to shut up. I should have listened, but I was so angry in that moment. “What kind of cancer? What’s your prognosis? Why aren’t you getting treatment? What the fuck is happening?” Tears fell, I threw my arms in the air, acting like a complete child, but I couldn’t stop myself. “How could you keep this for me?”
“Let them talk,” Maddox said as he laid a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back into the chair. I hadn’t even realized I’d stood up.
“Did you know about this?” I asked, even though I knew he didn’t, my mind wasn’t operating logically at the moment. I was driven by pure emotion, heading straight over the point of no return.
He looked just as heartbroken as I felt. His color still hadn’t returned, and he looked like he might cry at any moment. Tears ran down my cheeks freely. I don’t know when I’d started crying and I didn’t know when I would stop.
“It’s pancreatic cancer,” Dad said, “Unfortunately, they caught it very late. The prognosis is not good. Even with treatment it’s…” He trailed off. Fatal being the unspoken word. He didn’t have to say it out loud. I knew.
“But you’re going to try, right?” Maddox asked.
I don’t know how he could form words right now. I was having trouble just forming my own thoughts.
“I’m going to start chemo this month,” Dad said, “I wanted to get through the holidays before we did anything. I didn’t want my last Christmas to be miserable.”
“Don’t talk like that,” mom said. She swatted his arm as if he had just tried to get a taste of raw cookie dough, rather than alluding to his inevitable demise.
I have no idea why she bothered. He was a dead man walking. How was I going to go on without him?
“Is this why you wanted to sell the store?” I asked. Everyone looked at me oddly, as if that was the last thing on their minds. I’m not sure why it was on mine.
Dad shrugged. “I wanted to retire for a while now, Seth. Honestly, I wish I had done it sooner. Then maybe your mom and I would have had more time.”
Mom just looked at him, and he held her against him.
“What treatment are you going to do? When does it start? What is the plan? What doctor have you been going to?” My mind started working again, reverting to the organization and planning that I craved. If we could just put together a plan, we might be able to beat this. “What is the name of the cancer?” I pulled out my phone ready to google it as soon as they told me what it was.
Dad gave me a stern look. “Don’t go doing outside research, Seth. What’s done is done. I’ve seen the doctors, I’ve gotten second opinions. It is what it is. We need to accept that.”
“No,” I said, “you have to fight it. We have to fight it.” I refused to believe that he could just give up. I refused to believe that I could possibly lose him.
“I have an appointment next week with the oncologist. You’re welcome to come along, or we can Skype you in.”
“I’ll be there,” I said, “I’ll quit my job, I’ll move back home.” I didn’t know how any of those things were going to help but I was ready to do them.
“Absolutely not,” Dad said, “you’re not going to put your life on hold just for me. The two of you…” he looked at me and at Maddox. “Have your whole lives ahead of you. Don’t worry about me, I’ve lived a long life. We’ll make the best of the time we have together and that will be that. I love you boys and I refuse to see you give up your dreams for me.”
“But I wouldn’t be—”
“No.” He cut me off, “You’re going to finish that job in Philadelphia and that’s that.”
I wasn’t sure what else there was to say, so I just stayed quiet trying to process everything that had happened, trying to prepare for everything that was going to happen.
Eventually we all ate, though we barely put a dent into the meal my mother had laid before us. Maddox and I left and went back to his apartment. We sat on the couch in silence. We had been home for about fifteen minutes, and we hadn’t even turned on a movie or anything yet.
I knew at some point I would have to drive back to Philadelphia, but I couldn’t even fathom getting into a car right now.
“I could call in sick tomorrow,” I said.
Maddox sighed. “Your dad said you don’t need to put your life on hold.”
“I feel like my life has been turned upside down. I hardly know what putting it on hold even means right now.”
Maddox snuggled against my chest and wrapped his arm around my waist. He held me tightly as he softly cried into my shirt. I laid my cheek against his head, my own tears falling just as fast and just as hard.
“It’s going to be okay, right?” I said.
“Miracles happen every day,” he said, “we can beat this. Your dad is strong.”
“Yeah,” I said. Knowing full well that miracles were rare and that the likelihood of my father miraculously recovering from a terminal cancer wasn’t going to happen.
“I think you should move back home,” Maddox said.
I started a little, then looked at him, narrowing my eyes. “What do you mean? Dad said he wanted me to stay in Philadelphia.”
Maddox rolled his eyes. “The man’s not exactly thinking clearly right now.”
“Hey.” I said.
“Sorry.” Maddox held his head in his hands. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean that I’m sure he could use the help. Your mom, too. Can’t you find something closer?”
I didn’t know what to say. We’d just had this conversation on New Year’s Day and we’d both been fine with the decision we’d made. Dad wanted me to finish my internship.
“I thought that we were just going to wait out the rest of the year. It will be fine, there’s only a few more months.”
“Yeah,” Maddox said, “That was before we found out that your dad was dying.”
“Jesus Christ, Maddox.” I knew the truth in my heart, but I didn’t want to say it out loud and I most certainly didn’t want to hear it from him. Shouldn’t we be hopeful, upbeat? Wasn’t that how people conquered the big bad “C” word?
Tears started to fall again from Maddox’s eyes and he grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it.
“This isn’t supposed to happen,” he said, “This just sucks.”
“I know.” I rubbed his back. Tears brimmed on the side of my eyes as well.
When would we ever stop crying?
“Dad said he wanted me to finish the job in Philadelphia,” I said.
“I know he did. But I really think you should listen to your heart on this one. Come back home spend as much time with your parents as you can, Seth.”
“I will. I mean, maybe I can do both. I don’t want to disappoint him by quitting, when he specifically asked me not to.”
Maddox sighed and closed his eyes. “Okay. You’re right. I just—I don’t know.”
I hugged him against me. “One day at a time, right?”
Chapter Eleven
March
Somehow March flew by without me even realizing it. I worked, I slept. I went home every weekend to see my dad and spend time with him. My dad also learned how to text so that while he was getting his chemo treatments he could text me the entire time.
I was at work when he was in the hospital, but I still made time to reply. I had to tell my co-workers about it, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It all felt so sur
real. This was not something I had ever imagined that I would need to do. And I’m sure my dad never imagined that he would have to go through all of this either.
I thought a lot about what Maddox had said about moving back home. Quitting my job. Was I really putting my career before my family? And for a job I didn’t even like? Or was I simply making an adult choice? I had no idea. Adulting was so damn hard half the time.
Maddox and I really didn’t talk much. Even though I was home every weekend and we saw each other for dinner or in passing, we didn’t really talk about anything. Our nightly phone calls were reduced to a simple recap of our day, carefully avoiding talking about anything too serious.
We would put on a good show for my parents. I didn’t think they knew that anything was wrong. I wasn't even sure what was wrong. I knew that both Maddox and I were grieving in our own way trying to accept the curve ball that had been thrown at us. I couldn’t help but think it would be easier if we were coping together, rather than apart.
In mid-March I was called into my boss’s office. I should have known that it wasn’t going to go well. Beware the Ides of March. Wasn’t that what Caesar had been told?
It was a Friday, and I was already itching to leave even though it was only 11:30. I could hardly focus on my work when all I wanted to do was spend time with my family. My co-workers had been very supportive. My boss had been less so.
“Take a seat Seth.” Rob gestured to the empty chair directly in front of his desk. I sat and stared at him, unsure of what exactly I was supposed to say in this situation.
“I’ve noticed that you’ve been a little distracted lately.” I don’t know why he sounded surprised, I had told him about my dad’s diagnosis.
“Yes, sir I apologize for that.” I offered no further explanation. I was damn tired of second guessing myself and I wasn’t about to explain my situation again. I knew my work hadn’t suffered. I’d made sure of that. I just hadn’t been as talkative as I usually was.
“Around here,” he said, “we like to keep our work and our personal life separate. And I think perhaps you haven’t been doing that.”
Anger fired in my stomach. What could I possibly say to that? I knew my boss was a dick. I’d realized it on the first day and more so throughout the year as he’d had made countless comments about my relationship with another man. But seriously? How the fuck was I supposed to keep my personal feelings out of my everyday life in the midst of what was happening.
It was at that moment that I realized Maddox was right. I shouldn’t be at a company that didn’t value me as a person. The morale around here was lower than low. My co-workers were great, I wished I could take them all with me. But the management, that was another story.
I realized that we had been sitting here for a few minutes and I hadn’t spoken.
“I understand.” I wasn’t sure what else I could possibly say. Fuck you came to mind. But perhaps quitting would have to be saved for another day. I would have to think it through after all. Maybe it was time to write a list pros and cons of working at my dream job. I had made one before when deciding to take this internship. Maybe it was time to revisit that.
My boss just stared at me and I realize that I was being dismissed so I got up and left.
Nicole was waiting for me in our cubicle. “What happened?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I’ll tell you over lunch. Let’s go for a walk.” It was close enough to noon that the two of us left and went downstairs to the café grab the coffee and then headed outside to sit on a bench.
“I can’t believe he told you that. What happened to all that work-life balance bullshit that they told us at orientation?” She said after I’d run through the entire conversation for her.
I shrugged again, feeling numb to the pain. At this point I could care less about my dream job, all I really wanted was enough money to be able to survive and spend time with my family. Maybe career wasn’t exactly the most important thing in life.
Nicole must have sensed my disinterest in the subject, so she changed it. “Are you going home this weekend?”
I nodded. “My dad has a treatment on Saturday, so I’ll spend the whole day with him at the hospital. I think he might be staying the night there too.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “It’s really cool of you to stay with him. Not everyone would do that for family.”
After the discussion with my boss I left work right at five and headed home to my lonely apartment. I grabbed my suitcase that I had packed all the time, ready to leave at a moment’s notice just in case anything should happen.
I needed to be home with my family, to be with Maddox. I wanted to tell him he was right, that my career wasn’t worth sacrificing my integrity. Maybe he would have an idea on what to do. Should I stick it out for another month and a half or just quit and call it a day? My heart and my head were both telling me different things and I had no idea which was right. Is this what adulthood would always feel like? Why couldn’t I just make a damn decision?
After my dad had been diagnosed I’d actually penned a resignation later. It sat in my outbox, just waiting for me to hit send. I told myself I just wanted to be ready in case the worst happened, but really, I had just mentally checked out from that job once my relationship with Maddox had turned sour.
Oh, I still did my work, management had no complaints there. But my heart wasn’t in it. It was hard to go to work every day and be around people who weren’t excited about their work, it didn’t give me any incentive to be excited about it either.
Maybe I was an idealist, but I really just wanted a job that I enjoyed, in the career path that I’d studied for.
I snorted at that thought. No one would ever call me an idealist.
I threw my suitcase into the back of my car, and got in. I barely had the car started before I was shifting into gear and backing out of my parking space.
Three and half hours into my trip, just two miles from the exit to Milton the car in front of me drifted off the side of the highway. It all happened in slow motion and I was helpless to stop it. The driver over-corrected swerving into the lane next to them, the truck in the left lane slammed on their brakes, but there wasn’t enough time.
The car hit the side of the truck, the momentum from their overcorrection hurling them into a tailspin and then the car rolled. And rolled. And rolled.
I hit my brakes, my eyes widening and brain racing a mile a minute as I tried to remember what the protocol was for a situation like this. Swerve? No. that would be bad at this speed. I fumbled with the dials near the radio until I found my flashers button, quickly checked my rear-view mirror. Plenty of distant between me and the cars behind me. Thank god.
It was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like years before the wrecked car finally came to a stop. I pulled to the side of the road, paused for a second because I wasn’t sure what to do. I had no training of this. No plan in place for witnessing an accident or being there first to help.
Help. Shit. I had to help them. Jesus Christ.
I fumbled for my cell phone and called 911 as I climbed over to the passenger side of car, so I could get out without walking directly into oncoming traffic.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Um. I’m on the highway, going west, three miles east of Milton. There’s been an accident. It just happened. Um…” I lost my train of thought. I lost my fucking train of thought. Who does that in an emergency?
“Thank you, sir. I’m sending help right away.”
I snapped back into reality as I got out of the car and hurried toward the rolled car.
“It’s a white, ugh. Ugh. Chevy Lumina. I think. I can’t tell how many people are in it.”
I was only twenty feet away now. Before I went any farther I took in my surroundings, making sure it was safe to move.
The truck that the car had swerved into was parked in the median, the damage was minimal, and the driver was out, making his way toward the rolled car. Other
cars crept by, rubber necking. Some people were on their phones, probably with the police, I hoped with the police.
The car had landed upright, and I couldn’t see the person through the smashed windows. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“Sir, Sir!”
I snapped back to reality. “yes?”
“First responders are on route and should be there in a few minutes.”
“I’m gonna—Can I—I want to make sure the driver is okay. Can I do that?” Shouldn’t this be something we’re taught in driver’s training? Or something. What To Do In An Accident 101, required course for all ages.
“Did you call 911?” the man from the truck was suddenly next to me and we were within a few feet of the rolled car.
“Yeah. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just shaken. Oh, God. I hope she’s okay.” He half jogged to the rolled car and I followed.
As we approached, the driver sat upright, slowly. Her dark hair was matted to the side of her head and blood ran down her face. She was alive, although very disoriented.
I heard sirens getting closer. Thank god. The real help was here.
The driver of the truck was talking to the lady. Telling her not to move until the paramedics got there. He said something about the car being off and there not being any danger of explosion.
Explosion? I hadn’t even thought of that.
I realized I was still holding my phone to my ear. “Um. Looks like the driver is okay… relatively speaking. She is conscious, but her face is bloody.”
The 911 dispatcher asked me a few more questions and I answered as best as I could. Somehow, I managed to remain calm, despite the fact that the lady in the car continued to bleed and was going in and out of consciousness.
The entire situation felt surreal. Like I was standing outside myself watching rather than living it. I moved out of the way when the ambulance arrived and was able to get off the phone.
Once the police and ambulance arrived I got out of the way. The discussions with the police were over pretty quickly. I gave them my statement and they went on to do whatever it was that they did with that information. The crew that cleans up accidents was there, towing away the damaged vehicles and sweeping the highway. People drove by, rubbing necking as they went off course. I just wasn’t quite ready to climb behind the wheel just yet.
