“Dad said he was going to call David after he got off the phone with me.”
My phone beeped while I was on the phone with Tory, so I figured it was David calling. “Tory, I have another call. Hold on in case it’s David. I’ll be right back.”
It was David and, like Tory, he was worried about his dad. “David, I’m on the line with Tory. As soon as I get off the phone with her, I’ll call you.”
I returned to Tory and listened as she relayed the details her dad had told her. He’d noticed blood when he went to the bathroom and had a colonoscopy during which they’d discovered and removed a tumor, which turned out to be cancerous.
“So what’s the prognosis?” I asked.
“The doctors told him they removed all the cancer but would like him to undergo chemo to give it, in Dad’s words, an extra kick in the ass.’”
I smiled because I could hear Mike saying that.
“Tory, I’m sure your dad will be fine. He’s strong and in great shape.”
“That’s what the doctors said.”
“See?”
“But who’s going to take care of him? He has no family there. Maybe I should quit my job and come home.”
“You know your father wouldn’t want you to do that. Besides, I’m here.”
“But it’s not exactly like you guys are on great terms.”
“Listen, Tory. He’s your father. I loved him very much once. And no matter what happened in our marriage, there’s a part of me that will always care for him. Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ll reach out to him, offer my help? If he needs someone to run him back and forth to chemo or a place to stay temporarily, I have plenty of room.”
I could hear Tory exhale over the phone. “Would you, Mom? I know it’s asking a lot but I’m really worried about him. I’m afraid he’s not telling me the whole story.”
“I promise. I’ll call him later or stop by his apartment after work tomorrow.”
After Tory and I finished talking, I called David and our conversation was almost a carbon copy of the one I’d had with his sister.
“Let me know what he says,” David said. “And Mom, thanks.”
I checked the time. It was half past nine. I knew Mike would be up, but I usually didn’t call anyone after nine unless it was an emergency. I weighed whether to wait until the next day or whether dropping by and talking to him in person would be better, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to reach out, so I dialed his number. He must have recognized the number because as soon as his phone rang he picked it up. “Hi, Scarlett. I guess the kids called.”
“Yes. They’re both worried sick. Tory was even thinking about quitting her job to come home and take care of you.”
He sighed. “That’s our Tory. Just like her mother.”
His comment took me by surprise. It wasn’t often he compared Tory to me, but when he did, I took it as a compliment. “I promised her and David I’d look after you.”
“You did, huh?”
“Yes. And I will. Whatever you need Mike, I’m here.”
Mike’s voice started to crack. “Thanks, Scarlett. I don’t deserve it, but thanks.”
“How about I stop by tomorrow after work and we can talk?”
“Only if we have dinner first,” Mike said. “How about dinner at The Mansion on Cherry Hill? Is that still your favorite?”
“Yes, but we don’t have to go there.”
“No, I want to. Meet you at six.”
I hung up the phone and picked up Muffin. “Something tells me, Muff, he’s not telling me everything.”
I crawled into bed and started researching colon cancer online. An hour later, I’d learned more than I wanted to know.
When I arrived at the restaurant, Mike was sitting at the table we had once called ours. When he saw the waiter show me over, he stood to pull out my chair.
I sat. “Thanks.”
“I ordered a bottle of pinot noir.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“It’s still your favorite?”
I nodded.
Mike looked tired. Puffy pouches hung under his eyes and his tie was loosened halfway down his chest.
“So, how are you feeling?” I asked.
“Been better, that’s for sure.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Mike let the air seep slowly from his lungs. “Not much to talk about. I’ve got the big C.”
“But they think they got it all, right?”
There was a pregnant pause and my heart started to beat faster. “Mike? Tory said they got it all.”
“Yeah, they got it all. But since they found cancer in a few nearby lymph nodes, they want me to undergo chemo.”
“Oh, so it’s not just because they want to give it ‘an extra kick in the ass.’”
Mike nodded. “Look, Scarlett. I didn’t want to worry the kids. I told them I’ll be fine and I will be. Can we talk about this later?”
“Sure.”
We ordered our usual, or what had been our usual when we used to come here on our monthly date nights when the kids were little. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed their prime rib and, in a weird sort of way, it was nice being there with Mike. Not as his wife, but as his friend.
We talked about the kids and my plans for the boutique. He listened with interest when I described in detail the road trip Shonna and I had taken.
Mike sipped his wine. “I’ve so envious. I always wanted to drive Route 66.”
“Well, you still can.”
“You know, Scarlett, I realized when all of this cancer stuff came up how much time I’ve wasted on things that don’t really matter.”
I sat back, sipped my wine and listened as Mike lowered his drawbridge and let me in. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d talked and shared so openly.
I decided to ask what his girlfriend thought. “How did Angela take the news?”
Mike looked down at the table. “We aren’t together.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, we just didn’t have that much in common. Truth be told, she probably has more in common with David and Tory than she does with me. I realized I was with her, not because I loved her, but because I hated being alone. That wasn’t fair to her. She’s young and deserves better.”
“Being alone isn’t all that bad,” I said. “You get used to it.”
Mike rubbed his neck. “I was a real asshole, wasn’t I?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Well, I know I was. And I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better. That I didn’t value you the way I should have. Anyway, I just want you to know that. I’m glad you were the mother of my children. You’re a wonderful mother and no matter what happens with me, I’m happy they have you.”
I knew Mike was trying to apologize, trying to make amends for all his wrongs. And I wasn’t going to deny him that. There was a time when I hated him, a time when I felt as if I’d never be able to be his friend. But seven years had passed and a lot of healing had happened. Maybe we could be friends again.
We went back to my place and I showed Mike around.
“This place is so you, Scarlett. Sorry I was such a jerk about you selling the house and moving here.”
I waved my hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now, let’s talk about your treatments.”
“Do we have to?”
“Yes.”
Mike followed me into the kitchen and sat down while I put on the old Griswold cast-aluminum kettle to boil water for tea.
“Now, there’s a tea kettle I haven’t seen in ages,” Mike said. “That was your mother’s, right?”
I nodded. “It might be old but it still has a lot of life left in it.”
Mike laughed.
I sat down across from him. “I know you don’t have anyone to look after you here. I mean, you had Angela but now she’s out of the picture. I promised the kids I’d look after you. You could move in
here temporarily. As you can see, I have two extra bedrooms. You’d have your own bathroom.”
Mike shook his head. “I can’t do that, Scarlett. Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“Well, okay. But if it gets too tough at home living by yourself, you can stay with me. I won’t smother you, I promise. But I can make sure you eat and help with transportation to and from chemo.”
I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Mike started sobbing into his hands. I walked over and rubbed his back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I’ve cried more in the last few days than I’ve cried in my entire life. And not just about getting sick, but the avalanche of reality that’s buried me. My whole life I wanted to be somebody, make something of myself. And I did at the expense of those I loved most. And finally, when I got to the top, it didn’t feel as great as I thought it would. Something was missing. I figured it just wasn’t enough, so I’ve spent the last three years searching for more, but never found it. Then I got sick and realized it was there all along, I just didn’t see it. Please forgive me, Scarlett.”
I mashed my lips together. “I forgive you. And I hope we can be friends. We share two beautiful children and one day, if we’re lucky, we’ll share grandchildren. There’s no reason why we can’t be friends.”
After Mike left, I thought about what he’d said. I knew what it was like to face the possibility of death and take stock of your life, the mistakes you’ve made, the dreams you’ve forgotten. I’m not sure it’s possible to live a life without regrets. I think the most we can do is try. I understood Mike’s need to make amends. I accepted them. But I would never love him again as I one did. I was emerging from the cocoon I’d placed myself in since the divorce. And I wanted to fly again.
Chapter 24
The steady thump of my footsteps echoed in my ears. I saw the tunnel ahead and dug in, picking up the pace as I eyed the finish. The air rushed in and out of my lungs in a mild burn and I pushed myself as hard as I could. The ground below me blurred as my heart pounded to the beat of my heart. You can do it! You can do it!
I was up to running five miles and it seemed as if each day I was making progress. So much so that I started to look at local runs to participate in. I loved running on the rail trail. I could go on autopilot without having to worry about traffic, something I had to be cognizant of the mornings when I ran in the city. There were no crosswalks, no stop signs or red lights. Just a meandering path that followed the old railroad tracks through part of the county I’d not see otherwise.
My throat ached for air and, when I’d passed the tunnel, I slowed down and eventually walked. It was a great start to my Saturday. After a shower and a bite to eat, I had my appointment with Bryce. Today was tattoo day, and another opportunity to cross something off my list. Bryce and I had gone back and forth a few times on the design and I loved where we’d ended up. I especially loved that he was able to incorporate the numeral sixty-six into the design.
I was walking Muffin when David called. “Hi, Mom. Thought I’d check in to see how everything’s going.”
“Great.”
“Really?” I heard the surprise in David’s voice.
“Yep, just ran five miles.”
“That’s great, Mom. Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll nail that marathon. By the way, I’m able to get away for a long weekend. Are you going to be around in two weeks? I thought I’d fly home, see your new place and, of course, spend time with Dad. I’m worried about him.”
“That’s great, David.”
“I did some checking and…”
I interrupted him. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, it’s good. Well, I think it’s good and I’m hoping you do, too. There’s a small race in town the Saturday after I come home. I thought we could run it together.”
Now I was the one surprised. “How long?”
“10K.”
“Yikes! That’s more than I’m used to running.”
“Mom, you just ran five miles. It’s 1.2 miles more. You can definitely do it.”
I said yes before I had a chance to reconsider. “This will be my first race. I hope I don’t look stupid.”
“Trust me, Mom, you won’t.”
“Have you talked to your father lately?”
“Just did. He sounded awful.”
“The chemo drains him,” I said.
“Have you seen him lately?”
“Actually, I was going to stop over after I get my tattoo.”
“Whoa! Wait! Mom! You’re getting a tattoo? Dang! I don’t even have a tattoo.”
I guess I hadn’t told David about what I’d planned, so I explained.
“Are you going through a midlife crisis, Mom? You move. You go on a road trip with Shonna. You’re working on opening a store. And now you’re getting a tattoo.”
“They were all on my list!”
“The tattoo was on your list?”
“Well, not exactly. But doing something unexpected is. And I never thought I’d ever get a tattoo. Back in my day, the only people I knew who had them were guys in the service. But it’s different today. It’s become part of mainstream America.”
“Yeah, makes sense. But there are still a lot of companies that would frown on any tattoo that’s visible.”
“That’s why I’m getting it on my hip. No one will know it’s there except me.”
I repeated my promise to check in on Mike after my appointment with Bryce and headed to his shop.
Bryce was behind the counter checking out a customer when I walked in. He nodded and I waved. When the man turned round, I realized it was Peter. I hadn’t recognized him from the back, and he was wearing a blue and white baseball cap.
I smiled. “Hi, Peter.”
“Scarlett, what are you doing here?”
I laughed. “Probably the same thing you are. Today’s the day Bryce does my tattoo.”
Peter looked at Bryce and then at me. “Oh, I see.”
I sensed that Peter was curious, so I divulged more information than I normally would. But he wasn’t exactly a stranger. I’d been attending his class regularly. I’d even bought cycle shoes. Renee was right about smoother pedal strokes and not bouncing in the seat, which helped my pelvic floor a lot.
“A butterfly, eh? I love the symbolism, too.”
“Thanks.”
Now it was Peter’s turn to offer some additional information and I paused to see if he would. He delivered.
“I was just checking out the memorial tattoos. I’m still undecided, but Bryce comes highly recommended. I’d like to hear about your experience afterward.”
“Sure.”
I was curious about who Peter loved who had passed away, but I figured if he wanted to share he would. We said goodbye and I hopped onto the padded table like Bryce instructed.
“Here’s a pillow. Just try to relax. Put your right arm over your head.”
Bryce cleaned the area and then went over it with a disposable razor to remove any hair.
“When I looked in the mirror, I never even saw any hair on my hip.”
Bryce laughed. “Even the smallest of hairs can cause problems, so I want to make certain the area is smooth before the transfer.”
He then wiped the area again.
“Ready?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yes, let’s do it.”
Bryce placed the piece of thermal paper, positioning it exactly where we’d discussed and pressed it against my skin. When he pulled it away, there was a purple-ish blue likeness of my future tattoo.
“Last chance to turn back,” he said.
“No, it looks good.”
“I’m going to put some ointment over the transfer,” Bryce explained. “It’ll keep it from rubbing off and help the needle slide along the skin more smoothly.”
Bryce put on black latex gloves and prepared the tattoo machine and opened a pack of fresh needles.
<
br /> “That looks like some kind of weapon you’d see in a sci-fi flick,” I said.
Bryce laughed. “Now remember. If you’re nervous, don’t hold your breath. Take a nice, slow, deep breath and try to relax. The first minute or so will be the roughest. After that, your skin will get used to it and the pain will subside.”
Whenever I’m nervous about something, I try to go to my happy place in my mind. I pictured the beautiful butterfly house I’d taken the kids to when they were little. More than a thousand live tropical butterflies flew freely in the glass conservatory. We’d watched a butterfly emerge from a jewel-like chrysalis. Walked among tropical plants and trees. It was a beautiful day and I remember how excited Tory had been when a butterfly landed on her shoulder.
I bit my lip as Bryce created the black outline of the design. He then wiped away the remaining bluish marks.
“You’re doing great,” Bryce said. “The outline is done. Now the fun part begins.”
The rest of the tattoo didn’t hurt as much as getting the outline. The coloring and shading seemed to go quickly.
“All done,” Bryce said.
I looked at my tattoo in the mirror. “It’s beautiful, Bryce. Just the right size. You did a great job.”
“Thanks. Now, let’s talk about care.” Bruce explained that I needed to care for the tattoo just as I would care for a wound. He applied a layer of ointment before applying a bandage and handed me a piece of paper explaining aftercare, but also told me in person.
“If you have any problems, call me. But I don’t expect you to. Everything went well.”
I left the tattoo shop feeling great. Once, when I was little, I came across a Monarch butterfly with crumpled wings. Apparently, it had emerged from the pupal case and fallen to the ground before its wings were fully opened. The wings dried in a wrinkled and folded position and the butterfly was unable to fly. I didn’t want to be that butterfly. I didn’t want to emerge, only to discover a parasite had taken my life away. And yet I knew, especially since I was going through all of this with Mike, how quickly life could turn. One minute you might be running a marathon, the next battling a disease with the potential to take your life.
I rang Mike’s doorbell but he didn’t answer. I knew he was home. Tory had called me after David this morning and like him, she, too, was worried about her dad.
A Year of Second Chances Page 16
