One More Day

by Hadley, Auryn

  "Is Ryan here?" she asked. Ryan paused. He knew that voice.

  Jogging around the corner, he hurried into the main room of the shop. "Maria?"

  "Uh?" Colby asked, looking between them.

  "Let her in. That's Mack's nurse."

  "Yeah, ok," Colby said, pushing the door open for her, then locking it behind her.

  "I'm sorry," Maria said. "I didn't know you weren't open yet. Um, officially I'm here to get some more cards."

  "Where is she?" Ryan asked.

  "Damn," Maria whispered to herself. "I thought that's what she'd do. Look, Ryan, I can't tell you. Patient confidentiality and all that."

  "Is she ok?" he begged. "She was just gone this morning. Her stuff's still here, but she's gone!"

  "We'll find her, bro," Colby promised.

  Maria lay something on the counter. It was a small card, crumpled into a ball. "Maybe this fell out of her pocket?"

  Ryan leaned over and pressed it flat, then closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Close the whole fucking shop, Colby - and bring the truck."

  "Helmet!" Colby yelled as Ryan raced down the hall. He looked at the card: Regional Hospital, check in 8am. Sx 2:30pm

  "How bad?" he asked the nurse. "I don't give a shit about confidential whatver. That's my best fucking friend who just disappeared on us this morning."

  "It's not good," Maria said. "Give me some damned business cards, and I'll tell you what I can."

  He pulled open the top drawer and grabbed a box, dropping them on the counter. "Is she going to die?"

  "I dunno." Maria leaned on the desk. "We don't even know if it's really worse, or if we just saw more this time."

  "Yeah," Colby said. "Coffee?"

  "I'd love one," she admitted. "I've been standing all fucking morning."

  "C'mon around back. I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about that girl." He pointed over the door. "She kinda has something about her, makes us all want to be the white angel to her black."

  "She did that?"

  Colby nodded and tilted his arm, showing the tattoo dancer. "And they did this. We do have good coffee."

  He led her to the break room, turning on lights as they went. Gesturing to a chair, Colby made his way to the counter, and got the coffee started, then returned, sitting across from her.

  "I'm Colby, by the way, one of the tattoo artists here."

  "Maria," she said with a smile. "So you all live here, too?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. Ryan and Mack on the second floor, I'm on the third. We call it the island of misfit toys."

  She chuckled at that. "Someone watched too many Christmas specials."

  "Ryan," he said with a smile. "His mom died from cancer, and he grew up in foster homes. I'm an ex-drunk, and Mack has cancer."

  "Recovering alcoholic?" Maria asked, looking around. "Not exactly the line of work I'd expect for that."

  Colby shrugged. "You've met Ryan. Not a fucking drop of booze comes into this place. He gave me a job if I could get sober. Made me a deal that if I ever wanted a drink, I had to tell him." The coffee pot beeped, and he stood. "In six years, I've told him a lot, and he's always made sure I never had one. Mack, too. Broke up with my kinda girlfriend of four years a couple of weeks ago, and she made the dancer tattoo for me. Sugar? Cream?"

  "Black. Why the dancer?"

  He smiled as he set a cup before her. "The angel in the painting? It's Ryan. There's a smaller painting on the side wall in there. A ribbon dancer. Ryan did that one, and it's Mack. They were fucking painting each other into their art before they'd even talked. So, the image is my one best friend and was inked by my other. Reminds me that I always have someone to lean on, ya know?"

  "Why the cervical cancer purple?"

  "I'm gonna be the damned maid of honor," Colby said. "Soon as Ryan gets the balls to tell that girl how he feels about her, and she stops trying to push him away to protect him. Told Mack I'd wear purple taffeta."

  Maria grinned, trying to hide it with a sip of her coffee. "Maid of honor? Thought you said you'd known Ryan longer?"

  "Yeah, but he's got Tony. Mack? She's just got us. How bad is it?"

  Maria didn't even pause. "Both lymph nodes, but nothing on her lungs. They're cutting her open today."

  "Fuck," Colby said softly. "How long will she be out?"

  "In the hospital? Three, maybe four days?"

  "And bed ridden?"

  "She'll need to be watched for at least four weeks. It's a rough recovery. I can stop by after work and help, though."

  "And what do you want for it?" he asked. "Nobody does somethin' for nothin' these days."

  "A cup of coffee?" Maria offered. "Look. Ryan's been a saint. He sat in the waiting room the other day with henna, staining eyebrows onto one of our elderly patients. You say no one does anything without a reason, then explain that man to me."

  Colby sighed and stared at his coffee, then chuckled just once. "He's a knight in shining ink." He wiped quickly at his face. "He's the fucking white angel, Maria. He does that shit to make her smile. Please tell me she's going to be ok?"

  Maria just shook her head. "I can't, Colby. She's at IIB. They're doing surgery today, hoping to get it all, but if they don't? She's got maybe six months? A year at most."

  He sniffed and nodded. "Think praying would help?" he asked, lifting moist eyes.

  "Do you?"

  "Fuckin worth a shot. Sure won't hurt, right?" He wiped at his eyes again.

  "I'm not real religious," Maria said, "But I'll pray with you, if you'd like?"

  Colby nodded, grabbing her hand. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, then spoke softly. "Dear God," he said awkwardly, then took a deep breath. "Don't take her yet. I'm not good for shit. There's thousands of people out there that don't deserve to breathe. But not Mack. You fucked with her for too damned long, just give her a bit of good."

  He sniffed again and rubbed at his face with his free hand. "The knight in shining armor is supposed to save the damsel in distress, damn it." A small sob escaped, and Maria slid closer, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "I'd take her place if I could," Colby whispered.

  That was as far as he got before he simply broke. He shoved his face in his hands and cried, not even trying to hide it. "I want a fucking drink," he said so softly, rubbing his arm. "I can't take this shit, and I want a fucking drink."

  Maria gave up any semblance of being a professional, and just wrapped her arms around the tough looking guy covered in tattoos who was begging for help from friends who were too busy to save him. He clung to her like a man lost at sea and just cried.

  "What would Mackenzie say?" Maria asked gently.

  "No." Colby said, managing one small laugh. "Then she'd make a fucking coffee."

  "Then no," Maria said with a sad smile, tilting his chin up. "And you already have your coffee."

  "Thanks, babe." He wiped at his face. "I'm not usually a fucking mess like this."

  "Not every day that your best friend has cancer."

  He shrugged. "She has since she's been my best friend. You know she was gonna do this shit on her own? She started workin' here on a Thursday, and had her first dose on the Monday after that. Tried to hide it, so she wouldn't get fired."

  "That's fucked up," Maria said.

  "Yeah. Fuckin' Ryan's been half in love with her for a damned year. Still dunno why he hired her. He says it's so he could at least draw her, but I dunno. She said she wasn't gonna sleep with her boss, but they worked it out."

  "Wait," Maria said. "He came the second day, and said he was her boyfriend."

  Colby smiled and shrugged. "He lied. Mack just went with it. Thing is, she was sure that he was too good for her, and he was sure she was. One day I'll find someone like that, you know?"

  Maria nodded. "I think we all hope for that. I know I do."

  He grabbed her hand, and smiled. "Hun', you've got nothing to worry about. Gotta be a million men out there waiting in line for a chance with a pretty woman like you. I'm sorry I just blubb
ered all over you."

  "It's ok," Maria said. "Not a lot of men with the balls to cry over a friend." She rubbed his shoulder gently. "Bet there's a million women out there who'd love to meet a man who can care that deeply. You gonna be ok to drive?"

  "Yeah," he said. "I gotta put a sign on the door, and do a few things. All our clients know about Mack."

  "How can I help?"

  "Willing to make a few phone calls?" he asked. "Need to cancel some appointments."

  "Yeah," she said. "And when I get my next tattoo, I know where I'm coming."

  He wrinkled his brow. "You have a tattoo?"

  She nodded. "A rod of Asclepius on my ankle."

  "Fitting," he said. "And the right symbol."

  "Educated too," she said, tugging him to his feet. "This place isn't quite what I expected."

  He sighed. "She gonna be able to draw?"

  "Eventually. She'll just sleep the first few days, most likely."

  "Then we'll have to get her upstairs," he said to himself. "And long T-shirts, so she won't rub the cut."

  "Incision," Maria corrected without thinking. "Sorry."

  "No, you're good," he said, smiling. "That's how we learn. She's fuckin' getting over this shit. Not an option."

  Chapter 24

  The bike whined as he flew down the highway, wind whipping across his shoulders. He flicked on the blinker, checked his blind spot, and moved over a lane, slowing down just enough to make the exit, then sped up again. He hit the light at green, leaning deep into the corner, and looked for the next turn. He knew where she was. He knew how weak she was. All he wanted to do was make sure she knew she wasn't alone before they knocked her out.

  Pulling into the parking lot, he found an empty space and dropped the stand, twisting and pulling the key out in a practiced motion, hurrying in the door as he peeled the helmet from his head. He hated hospitals, always had. The sterile smell of them, the hushed voices, all of it made him remember the time his mother had spent there. Too many years he'd played in the halls, trying not to be a problem.

  It'd been a nurse who gave him the poetry by Lord Byron. He'd spent hours trying to understand the deeper meaning of each poem, giving him something to think about besides his mother's death. He knew most of them by heart now. The one Mack had quoted was the worst. Maybe the most beautiful, but also the most painful.

  "Can I help you?" a woman asked. Across the desk, in large brass letters, was the word "Information".

  "What room is Mackenzie Lawrence in?"

  She glanced at a screen and typed in the name. "Fourth floor, room 427. Just take that elevator up and turn right, then ask as the first nurse's desk."

  "Thanks," he said, taking the three steps to the elevator and pressing the button. It dinged almost immediately, the doors sliding open. An older man stepped off, holding the door for Ryan. With a polite nod, he took his place, pressing the button.

  He wanted to pace, but held himself still. He wanted to ask what she'd been thinking, but he knew. Deep down, he knew Mack was just trying to protect them. He knew it had to be bad, but he was going to keep hoping.

  When the doors opened, he turned right, wanting to run, but held himself to a fast walk. He found the curved desk easily and set his helmet on it, rubbing at his disheveled hair, hoping someone would appear soon.

  "Can I help you?" a kind faced woman asked, walking up the hall.

  "Looking for Mackenzie Lawrence?"

  "Hm," she said, moving around the counter.

  "Did he say Mackenzie?" a woman asked from around the corner.

  "Yeah," the nurse called back.

  Wheels squeaked, and a plump woman in maroon scrubs walked through a door at the side. She paused. "Let me guess, Ryan?"

  "Yeah?" He hoped that was a good sign.

  "She's in surgery."

  "Fuck," he breathed. "K."

  "Dr. Janis said I'm to update you on her condition. You want to come with me?" She waved him to follow and walked down another hall, pausing at a door, then pushed it open. Inside were a handful of chairs and a television, some game show flickering across the screen.

  "That bad?" Ryan asked.

  The nurse sat, gesturing for Ryan to do the same. "Not really. The last round of imaging found a few dark spots that hadn't been seen before. Unfortunately they were on the other side. They're removing her uterus, cervix, and a portion of the vaginal vault. Do you know what that means?"

  Ryan nodded. "Yeah. What's the chance of clear margins?"

  She smiled. "I see you've done your homework. Good. Dr. Janis is thorough. Problem is, with the type of cancer she has, there's always the possibility that it's already spread. She'll need four weeks of recovery, and then it's back to chemoradiation."

  "Prognosis?"

  She sighed. "I can't tell you yet. We won't have that until pathology is done. Ryan, with both lymph nodes being affected, the chance of a full recovery decreases. If it's already spread..."

  He closed his eyes and took a long breath. "Yeah."

  "Mackenzie didn't take you off the emergency contact information, but she told me what she did."

  He nodded. "She's trying to protect us. I get it. She just quoted the wrong poem."

  "What?"

  "Never mind." He waved that away. "So how do we improve her chances?"

  "Studies show that the patient's outlook has a lot to do with it. When she spoke to the doctor, she said she wanted to get better so she could beg you to forgive her."

  "Shit, Mack," Ryan breathed. "She's always gotta do it on her own, you know?" He sighed. "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

  "Theresa, I'm her nurse."

  "Thanks," he said. "There's gonna be a freak of a man coming soon. Tall, bald guy with a piercing through his nose covered in tattoos?"

  "Is that her boss?"

  Ryan smiled a bit at that. "Nah. I'm the boss. Colby's just her best friend."

  "Oh," Theresa said. "Ok. Well, Mackenzie was pretty upset, so we gave her quite a few extra meds. The doctor is a bit worried about where she's going when she's released."

  "Home," Ryan said. "I'll talk to her, but even if she just stays with Colby and doesn't want to talk to me again, we're still taking care of her."

  She sighed, and nodded. "K. It'll probably be about four days before she's released."

  "Oh shit," Ryan said, realizing something. "She still hasn't told her dad."

  "I don't even have a father listed."

  "Any way I can get in her room?" Ryan asked with a pleading smile. "I need her phone."

  "Yeah," she said, patting his shoulder. "We can only have one visitor at a time with the patients, but you can trade out with, Colby is it?" Ryan nodded, so she went on. "This is the visitor's lounge. Those chairs at the side pull out into what they call beds. Uncomfortable as hell, but you two are welcome to them."

  She stood and gestured for Ryan to follow, leading him into a barren room. Mack's things were set at the side, but the bed was gone, leaving a vacant gap. Ryan opened her bag and grabbed her phone, sliding it into his pocket.

  "She won't need it," he said, "and I will. Any idea how long until she's back?"

  "Three, maybe four hours?"

  He sighed. "You have coffee?"

  "None brewed, but we can do that."

  "Is it any good?" he asked. "Or should I bring some to share?"

  Theresa chuckled. "It's really bad. We have powdered creamer, and just about any sweetner you could ask for, though."

  "Have a fridge?"

  "Small one in the visitor's lounge. I take it you're about to become a permanent fixture?"

  "I'm not leaving her alone," Ryan said. "My mom died without any one to take care of her but a lost little boy. Mack deserves better."

  "Well, I'll let them know at the desk. You need anything, just ask, ok?"

  She'd barely left the room when Ryan started making calls. He told Colby to grab the phone charger, pick up coffee and cream, plus a few things for lunch. While he didn't
give him the full details, he did explain that it would be hours before Mack was out of surgery.

  The next two calls he made were harder. Flipping through Mack's contact list, he found the number for her mother. He pressed the button and the phone rang four times before someone finally answered.

  "What?" a blurred voice asked.

  "Is this Ms. Lawrence? Mackenzie's mother?"

  "Who the fuck are you?" she snapped. "Ain't been Lawrence in years."

  "Sorry, look, I'm afraid I don't know your name - "

  "Then why the hell are you calling me?"

  "Mackenzie's sick," he said.

  "Then tell her to fucking deal with it." The woman groaned. "Fucking kids, always wanting a handout."

  "She has cancer," Ryan said. "She's in surgery right now. I thought you might like to know. She doesn't need anything, I just thought you might like to know."

  "Well, I ain't paying for her funeral," the woman snapped. "Fucking piece of shit never did anything for me."

  Ryan sighed. "Don't worry, she has people who love her. I just thought you might have cared. Have a nice fucking day."

  He hung up and fought the urge to throw the phone. If anything, Mack had downplayed her feelings for her mother. He reminded himself that he was being the good guy and looked up the number for her father. Pressing the button, he hoped this call would be different.

  "Mack?" a man asked, the sound of wind in the background. "Lemme roll up the window, I can't hear shit."

  "Mr. Lawrence?" Ryan asked.

  "Hang on!"

  The wind sound dimmed until it was finally gone. "Sorry, what was that?"

  "Is this Mackenzie's father?" Ryan asked.

  "Yeah. Who's this, and why are you on her phone?"

  "Ryan," he said. "Her boyfriend. Are you driving?"

  "Yeah, boy. Mack ok?"

  "Look, can you find a place to pull over and call me back?"

  Silence hung between them for a long moment. "She's not dead is she?" he asked.

  "No, but I think you might not want to be driving when we talk."

  "Yeah. I got an exit in a mile. I'll call you right back."

  The phone went dead, and Ryan looked at it, waiting. It took two minutes, but it rang. "Yeah?" Ryan answered.