I am brought to tears when Brock comes out with his whole team following him, and they each take turns sitting down in the chairs. What started as a little thing became a whole dream come true for these boys. They were given tickets to the game tomorrow with free accommodations for them and their family. Olivier never does anything small, and I can’t say I’m surprised by this. But I’m sure that he couldn’t have done it without Doug’s blessing. It’s a big deal to fly in seventy people for a fundraising event.
A man walks by with a little step stool and puts it up against Brock’s chair. “Evie!” Brock yells for her. “Come and shave my head,” he says, and she walks to him, getting on the stool and holding the razor with the barber as she shaves Brock’s head. Her laughter drowning out everything.
I stand next to them and look up at Zack, his eyes smiling with pride, with happiness, with love, and then to Jack whose eyes are identical to his father. He cornered me in my brother’s living room, and what was supposed to be a scripted case became something so unscripted.
Epilogue
Zack
Two months later
“You need to relax,” I tell Denise as she sits down in the chair in Steve’s office, her leg bouncing up and down.
“I don’t understand,” she starts. “He got the results this morning, and he wouldn’t even show me.” Today is the day we get the results back from his last treatment. I’m a nervous wreck, but it makes me feel better to calm her down.
I put my hand on hers. “Breathe,” I tell her, and she leans forward and runs her hand in my growing hair. Hair that now matches Jack as his is growing back. The knock comes, and I look at the door, and it opens and Steve walks in with Jack who comes over and sits on my lap. “Did you have a good visit?” I ask him about the visit he wanted to do with the nurses, showing off his new hair. Even though we are always here volunteering or picking up Denise. It’s different for him, so I watch Steve go around the desk and sit.
“Thank you for coming in,” he says, looking down, and I hear Denise groan. He looks down and laughs a bit.
“Spit it out.” She gets up now. “Or I swear …”
“I got the results back from the blood we drew last week, and,” he says, looking down and then up again, “I’m happy to say that from this his T-cells counts are normal. Jack, you, my friend, are in remission.”
“Oh my god,” Denise says from beside me, sobbing out, holding her chest as she cries. Grabbing Jack from me, she buries her face in his neck. I lean over, taking both of them in my arms as we cry around Jack.
This, right here, the support she’s given us, the love she gives me and my son every single day.
“I have to call Janet,” Denise says, and I just nod at her. Evie got her results yesterday, and like Jack, she is going to be okay.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” I tell Steve, kissing Jack’s head now that Denise gets up and goes to call Janet. “You saved him.”
He shakes his head. “I wish I could take the credit, but I can’t,” he says, smiling and getting up. “Jack, now that you’re going to be better, what are you going to do?”
“We are going to Disneyland,” he says to Steve, and he throws his head back and laughs.
“As soon as the season is over, we are going to go to Disneyland,” I tell Steve. “It’s a family trip.”
“Michael is coming too and maybe Evie,” Jack says, and I get up and walk out of the room. I spot Denise at the nurses’ desk as she cries in Mallory’s arms.
I walk to them, and Mallory smiles at me. “Go celebrate,” she whispers to Denise, and she nods at me. “We need a picture for our wall of fame,” Mallory says, and I grab Denise, bringing her to me and kissing her tears away.
We pose for the photo, both of us squatting down next to Jack, and the picture comes out perfect.
We get in the car, and I slowly make my way over to Long Island. “Are we going to Max’s?” she asks while she texts. “I’m texting them with the good news,” she tells me, and I don’t answer. Instead, I keep driving. I pull up in front of a house where I spent the past two weeks coming anytime I had free time.
“Where are we?” she asks, and I open the door and get out. Walking around the car, I get Jack out. I look and see Denise standing there looking up at this gray two-story house with a wraparound white balcony.
Six steps lead to the white front door, which is half glass. I grab her hand, intertwining it with mine, and I walk up the steps with her following me. “What is this?” she asks again, and this time, I take the key out of my pocket.
“Welcome home, baby,” I tell her, turning the key and watching her face turn to shock. “I know I should have talked to you first.”
“You bought us a house?” she asks, shocked.
“I did,” I tell her, opening the door and pushing it open. Putting my hand on her lower back, I usher us inside the room.
She steps in and sees the winding staircase. “This is beautiful,” she says.
“Surprise,” Jack says, laughing as he jumps in front of her. “It’s for us,” he says, smiling. “I got a new room.”
We walk in as she takes in all the work that we’ve done over the past two weeks. Pictures of us hang on the walls, all of our furniture new and just delivered.
“What do you think?” I ask once we walk into the family room that is attached to the giant kitchen. “I know it’s a far commute, but we have the car, and the train station is a five-minute drive.”
“I think,” she says. Turning in a circle, she sees the whole back of the room windows open, letting you see the huge yard with an inground pool and play area.
“I think this is the most beautiful house ever.” She smiles at us, and I nod at Jack. “And is that all the furniture that I was looking at with you?” she says, spotting all the items I made her choose on Sunday while we lounged on the couch. It became a game of which one do you love better.
I grab her hand and get down on one knee, Jack following my position. Her mouth opens, and a gasp escapes her. “You came into our life at the dreariest moment,” I say, looking over at my son and thinking about how far he’s come since he’s been here. “You took us into your heart and showed us a love that is unconditional.”
“I love you,” she says, tears pouring down her face. “Both of you.”
“You taught us that being loved is something that makes you a better person, that when you have this love, you can take on the world.” I smile when her cries get a little louder, and she uses one hand to rub away her tears. “I want you to love us for the rest of your life. I want you to be by me when we have small problems and when we have huge ones.” I smile through my own tears. “Denise, would you do us the honor of marrying us and making us the luckiest guys alive?”
“Yes,” she whispers at first. “Yes, I will marry you,” she says. “I’d marry both of you, today, tomorrow, and every single day after.”
“She said yes, Daddy,” Jack says, throwing up his hands. “Everyone can come out now,” he says, getting up, and I see Denise look around while our family members come into the room, shouting with happiness.
“Congratulations.” Allison is the first one to hug her and then my mother follows.
“Can I put the ring on my fiancée?” I ask them, and they look at me as I slip the four-carat princess-cut diamond on her finger.
I lean down to kiss her, and she wraps one hand around my shoulder and puts one hand on my cheek. “I forgot one big thing,” I whisper to her. “She signed the papers.” Chantal signed the divorce papers; she tried to get the prenup to stand, but when we got confirmation from the tabloid that they paid her for the scoop, it made the contract null and void. In the end, she got the house in Arizona, where she lives by herself, and I got to marry the woman who was made for me.
“Even Jack?” she asks me, and I nod. She signed away all rights to him.
“He’s ours,” I tell her, and she leans in, and right before she kisses me and seals the deal, s
he says, “You’re both mine.”
Epilogue Two
Epilogue Two
Twenty-two years later
Denise
“Would you stop that, Mom,” Jack says to me as I fix his bow tie for the hundredth time.
“I’m just making sure it’s on right,” I tell him. “You’re still my baby.”
“I know, Mom, but I’m nervous enough as it is. It doesn’t help when you are all over me,” he says, leaning in and kissing me. My son, that’s right, my son in every definition of the word, is getting married today.
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell him, this time fixing his jacket and dusting away fluffs.
“Dad!” Jack yells, and my husband comes in the room. I look over at him, and he still takes my breath away. We’ve been married for twenty-two years, and it feels like I met him just yesterday. “She’s doing it again.”
Zack laughs. “Just let her do what she needs to do, and it will make it that much quicker.”
“Why don’t you go and see if Joshua or Elizabeth need your help,” he says of his younger brother and sister.
“We are fine!” I hear my seventeen-year-old daughter yell from somewhere in the house.
“I don’t hear no one complaining about me when I’m making waffles,” I tell him, and Zack just laughs.
“The car is here,” Joshua, my twenty-year-old son, yells from somewhere in the house, most likely his bedroom.
“Come on, we can’t be late,” Jack says, kissing my cheek and walking out, leaving Zack alone with me.
“You going to be okay?” he asks, coming to me and moving the hair away from my neck. “You should be happy he found a girl who loves him to the moon and back.”
“I am happy. I’m just sad he’s moving out,” I tell him. “It won’t be the same without him.”
“Baby, just last week you said you couldn’t wait till he left.”
“That was different. I tripped over his shoes at the door,” I tell him. “He leaves them in the middle of the room. Is it so hard to put them on the side?” The only time Jack moved away from us was to go to college, but when he took a job at the Max Horton Foundation, I didn’t really give him a choice about moving back home.
He laughs. “Case in point.” He kisses my nose. “Now, let’s go before he has a hissy fit and becomes groomzilla.” I now laugh and walk out of the house, holding my husband’s hand.
We get to the church, and we stand here outside the doors. “We are proud of the man you’ve become,” Zack starts to say, and his voice trembles.
“Not you too, Dad,” Jack says, and the door opens, and we place our arms in his and walk him down the aisle. Our closest family and friends fill the church to the rim. I don’t even try to stop the tears from coming as every single moment from him growing up plays over in my head like a flashback movie. The good times, the bad times, the times we grounded him and he hated us, the times when he pushed his limits and we pushed back. It has all led to this point. When we get to the front of the altar, he turns and shakes Zack’s hand and brings him in for a hug, then he turns to me and hugs me, reciting the I love you forever poem.
“Thank you for being the best mother a guy could ask for,” he says, kissing me.
Zack puts his arm around my shoulder and leads us to the first pew as Jack walks up the altar and turns to stare back at the door. I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder and turn around to see Max smile at me.
We watch the bridal party walk down the aisle, and then the door closes once again. “This is it,” Jack says, and I watch him standing there in his tux with Michael next to him, his hands folded in front of him.
The wedding march starts, and we all get up, looking down at the closed doors until they open, and I think to myself who would have known that an innocent friendship that started so long ago would lead to this. My son waits at the altar with tears running down his face as Evie walks toward him.
The End.
I modeled the scene after the amazing work of St Baldricks
if you want to learn more about them or if you want to see if there is a local event near you; you can learn more here http://stbaldricks.org
Don’ t want to miss any updates sign up for my newsletter.
Natasha Madison Newsletter
Perfect Love Story Sneak Peak
The Love Story Series
When one man’s death exposes a complex web of lies, three couples discover the true meaning of love, loss and redemption.
Perfect Love Story
Hailey
What do you do when you find out your whole life was a lie?
That your husband really wasn't your husband but someone else's.
That the vows you made to each other were simply empty promises.
You pick up and move to the country to start fresh.
When life hands you limes, you make sure you have tequila because your life is about to get stirred up.
Jensen
Married to my high school sweetheart, the best thing she gave me was my baby girl.
But we weren't enough for her. I wasn't enough for her.
The last thing I expected on my birthday was a Dear John letter, but that’s what I got when she upped and left. Now, it's just me and my girl against the world till the new girl moves in next door.
Is there such a thing as a perfect love story?
Perfect Love Story
Hailey
“Hello.” Turning down “Glorious” by Macklemore blasting in the background while I washed the kitchen floor with Pine Sol and water, I answer the phone after the first ring.
“It’s me.” I hear my best friend and cousin, Crystal, say from the other end. “Where are you?” I can’t see her face, but I know something is wrong. Even though she’s asked me that question a million times before, this time it’s different. There is no carefree tone. This time, it’s curt and to the point with no laughter in her voice.
“I’m home,” I say, almost whispering as my hand shakes against my ear. My mouth suddenly goes dry, my neck starting to get hot. Something inside my stomach suddenly drops when a slow burn sets in.
“You need to come to the hospital.” Crystal is an emergency room nurse at St. Mary’s, so whatever feeling I was having before has now doubled. “Blake is on his way to get you.” When she mentions my brother, I now know something is gravely wrong. The honk outside doesn’t allow me to question her any further. “You need to get in the car, okay?” she says softly but firmly. “Listen to me, Hailey. Go outside and get here.” My head nods as the hand holding my phone to my ear falls away.
The front door opens, and Blake comes in, looking at me with sorrow and sadness. His brown eyes meet mine briefly, and then he looks down. He doesn’t say anything to me; he simply holds out his hand to me. I put my hand in his, and he leads me out to his truck. He opens the door for me, helping me take that step in.
As I’m looking at him, he pulls the seat belt over my chest and buckles me in. My mind’s still playing the phone call, trying to dissect the conversation. Trying to find one little word that can be the clue. “It’s going to be okay.” His voice breaks through the haze.
I nod my head at him, then he steps back and shuts the door, jogging over to his side. He gets in and puts the truck in drive. I’m on the outside looking in, watching my life fall apart without knowing it.
The only thing I’m certain of is that the sun is shining without a cloud in the sky. As I watch a bird soar through the sky almost in the same direction we are going, I think to myself, Bad things don’t happen when it’s sunny outside, right?
I watch the bird, not even realizing we’ve made it to the hospital. I don’t have a chance to open my door because Blake has it opened before I even think to reach for the handle. “You’re going to be okay,” he assures me as he raises his baseball cap to run his hands through his short dark hair.
“What’s going on?” I have a feeling my entire life is about to change, so I beg him to tell me before we wa
lk through those doors. Blake doesn’t answer. He just reaches down to grab my hand and lead me through the revolving doors.
The harsh smell of antiseptic immediately fills my nose. Voices bombard me, though, none of them are familiar. Glancing around, I take in the hustle and bustle of the emergency room. My heartbeat echoes in my ears as I try in vain to locate a familiar face. I just need to know who we’re here for.
As we silently walk down the corridor, my mind never stops thinking about why we are here. I look up at Blake, asking the one question that makes my heart squeeze with such intense pain, it feels like it might explode.
“Is it Mom? Dad?” I can hear the pleading in my tone. He gives me nothing, continuing to look straight ahead. My eyes go back to the floor, following the tile pattern as we make our way beyond the entrance to the emergency room. The first thing I see is both of my parents, alive and healthy. My mother has tears running down her cheeks, and my father has his arm around her shoulders. They are standing next to the nurses’ station. I look back at Blake in horror. “Is it Nanny?”
He doesn’t have time to answer because Crystal comes out from behind the nurses’ station in her everyday uniform of blue scrubs and Crocs, wearing a stethoscope around her neck.
With one glance at her face, I stop my feet in their tracks. My feet are stuck to the floor as if someone crazy glued them to that spot. I can see the hurt and tears in her eyes. She looks at me with her head tilted sideways, her bottom lip trembling. My body blocks any movements I try to make. I try to advance to Crystal, but I can’t. My knees start to give out, and a horrible shrieking sound comes from somewhere.
I try turning my head to see where the yelling is coming from, but I can’t. I’m on my hands and knees in the hospital corridor. It isn’t until the coldness seeps through my hands that I realize I’m the one screaming. That wretched sound is coming from me. Me. My throat raw, my eyes burning, and my heart irrevocably broken. No words need to be said. No confirmation given. I don’t need them to bring me to a place where we can “talk quietly.” It’s at that moment I finally know what everyone else knows.
Something So Unscripted Page 23