by Leaona Luxx
“Chord, you’re the best man I know, and if anyone can handle this for his family, it’s you.” His voice cracks with each word.
“Why? For the love of God, why? Didn’t I do without him for long enough? Fuck!” I fist my hair.
“Yes, you did.” He clears his throat. “You have every damn right to be angry.”
“They’re doing a biopsy in the morning at nine, since we’re already here.” I rub my eyes with my palms.
“Do you want us to come down?”
I sigh. “No, it’s too late now anyway.”
“Have they gave you any possibilities?”
“She thinks it’s cancer, we’re just trying to find out what type.” I swallow past the bile rising in my throat.
“Please, try to keep us posted. I know we’re the last thing on your mind, as we should be, but we love him too,” One gasps, trying to stifle his emotions for me.
“I know.” I blot my eyes again. “One, I don’t know what I’d do without Lea. Please, please let her know, I’m eternally grateful.”
“She loves you, you know that. Besides, she’s a mother first.” One knows he’s a lucky man, but it’s always good to hear others know it too.
“We love her, please tell her.”
“I will, little brother. We love y’all, try to get some rest.”
“We will, thank you. Love you all.” I end the call, pull myself together and walk in the room.
“It’s a good thing you packed a bag, how’d you know?” Sarah slips a t-shirt over her head.
“Yeah, I did such a great job, I forgot my wife a nightie.”
“Not wife, our son said, not yet.” She giggles. “He just busted us, right then and there.”
“He sure did.” I tug her to me. “He’s right, we’re not married. What are we gonna do about that, baby?”
She locks her hands behind my head, gazing into my eyes. “We’re going to get married, as soon as heavenly possible.”
“That’ll work.” I press my lips to hers. Finding solace in her lips, I take my time loving her.
Sarah and I both struggle for sleep, I’m not sure either of us ever do. We’re up before the alarm, ready to go as the car arrives. Once in the hospital, we register and find our way to outpatient surgery to wait.
I clasp Sarah’s hand as the elevator dings, opening the door to our floor. She offers me her best smile, weak but loving. We step around the corner to find my parents.
“What are you doing here?” I stutter as my breath hitches.
“Do you three honestly think we’d let you be alone?” Dad hugs me, kissing Silas’ cheek. Mom has Sarah wrapped in her arms, she’s trembling.
“I needed this so much today, thank you.” Sarah’s lip quivers.
Mom dries Sarah’s face. “You’re as precious to me as he is, Sarah Beth. And Silas owns Grandmother, don’t you baby?” Silas nods, clasping on to me. “Grandpa and Grandmother are taking him shopping after this, we need a new toy.”
“I need a new memory card for my video camera.” Silas chirps as we sit down.
“Is that all? Maybe we can find something else to go with it,” Dad says to Silas’ delight.
Silas shakes his head, eyes wide. “LEGOs.”
“Now, you’re talking.” I smile at him as a nurse steps into the room.
“Hamilton.”
“That’s us.” I swallow hard as bile rises in my throat, knowing what my baby is about to endure. I’d give anything if it were me instead.
“We’ll be here,” Dad says, kissing Silas again.
Mom wraps her arm around us, kissing Silas. “Praying. We love you.”
Silas lays his head against my shoulder. Sarah has a death grip on my hand as we walk our son back. The staff are amazing, they let us stay with Silas the entire time, suiting us up. He giggles when I put my mask on.
“You look funny, like a doctorw.”
“I am Doctor Tickle. How are you today?” I tickle his feet as he giggles.
“Good.” His eyes wide, he waits to see where I’m going next.
“How are you here?” I tickle under his arms.
He laughs louder. “Good.”
“What about here?” I goose Sarah, making her jump with a yelp. She play slaps my arm, Silas rolls laughing.
“Momma’s gonna get you,” Silas says as he cackles.
“Yes, I am.” She slaps at me again. The door opens, sending my heart plummeting.
“It’s time.” Two words and my world spirals.
Sarah grasps my hand as we walk little man back. An hour later, I run out to give my parents an update.
“Hey.” They hurry to their feet, Mom sliding her arm around me. “It’s done. He has to lay on his side for a while and then we can take him home until the results come back.”
“How is he?” Mom’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“Good. I mean, I’d be out for the count but he’s strong, like his mom.”
“We’ll be here,” Dad says. “Can we get you anything?”
“No, please go eat. I’ll text you when we’re ready to leave.”
Mom hugs me. “We love you.”
“I can’t tell you what it means to us you’re here.” I suck in a much-needed breath.
“Always.” Dad hugs me when Mom releases me.
“I’ll text you.” I open the door, turning back to wave at them. They made parenting look so easy, I’m one helluva lucky kid.
The driver jumps out to grab the door, but I’m already out and headed around to get Silas. Sarah scoots over to the window with him, making it easier to grab him. I reach for her hand, and she looks up at me before taking it.
“Aren’t your hands full enough?” Her brows are pulled low.
“Not when it comes to you, Sarah.” I yank her hand, and she bumps into me giggling.
She opens the door, shoving it. “I like your hands full of me.”
I do a double take. “You’re a bad girl, I think I like it.” I wink at her as I walk in, and she shuts the door, smiling.
“You more than like it.” She waggles her brows, tiptoeing to kiss me.
“I’m gonna lay him down, then I’ll grab our bags.”
She walks toward the kitchen. “I’ll get his meds and meet you up there.”
I lay Silas in bed. “I’m gonna run and get you something to sleep in.”
He looks up at me under hooded eyes. “Can I sleep in your shirt, like Momma does?”
“You sure can, let’s pick one out.” I take out a couple of shirts.
He picks out the blue Panthers shirt, one that means so much to me. “That one, I love football.”
“Good choice, I do too. I love this shirt.” I slip it over his head. “You know why?” He shakes his head as his arms pop out.
“Because I bought it for him, the Christmas before I left.” Sarah wraps her arms around my waist. “I can’t believe you still have it.”
“Girl, that thing hung in my room like a shrine with your pictures around it.”
“Yep, you’re still sprung.” I grab her wrist, pulling her around. Tipping her back, I press my lips to hers.
“You better believe it.” I take her lips again as Silas lays back, chuckling. “What?” I cock my brow.
“Y’all are gross!”
“Speaking of gross, here’s your medicine.” Sarah sits on the bed, helping our little man. “Our home looks like it was hit by Merry Maids and Costco.”
“Huh?” I laugh.
“The fridge is packed! There’s so many popsicles in it, it’s about to burst.” Silas’ eyes are wide. “And the place is spotless.”
“Did you say popsicles?” Silas’ lopsided smile is the best.
“I’ll run and grab some,” I say, turning to the door.
“I want one!” Sarah yells as I hit the stairs. My heart may be broken but it’s so full.
The last few days have been horrendous. I don’t like waiting, I hate it in fact. Chord’s worn a path in the floor pa
cing when he’s not working. Three days, there’s been no word. We don’t talk about it, but we can see it in Silas’ face—he’s getting worse.
“Have I mentioned how I despise waiting?”
Chord peeks up at me from his laptop. “Not in the last hour.”
“What are you doin’?” I crawl to the other end of the couch, straddling him to peer over the screen.
He glances up at me with the most amazing lopsided grin. “Working. What are you doing, beautiful?”
“I don’t know.” I sit on his legs, staring at him.
His eyes flicker to mine. “You need something?”
I twists my mouth to the side. “Nope.” I sigh.
He hits a few buttons, closes the computer, and lays it on the table. I’m in his arms and on my back in a flash. “I think you might want a little attention.”
I roll my eyes. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, the fact I’ve known you for nineteen years and know you will never tell me you want it.” He trails his lips over my jaw, sending delicious tingles down my body.
“You know me so well.”
“Better than you’ll ever admit.” He snickers.
“You’ve always just done what I need, there’s never been a reason to tell you.” I kiss his temple.
“True but it would be nice to hear that you need me once in a while.” His lips press below my ear, and desire blooms in my belly.
“Are you trying to get something started?” I wrap my legs around him, deflecting the other topic to a later date.
“Mmm, do you think I can?” He runs his nose between my breasts.
“I think you already have.” His mouth takes mine in a slow commanding kiss. “Good thing I’m not wearing panties.”
Chord groans with appreciation when his hand slips between my legs. “So I see we have a situation.”
My breasts heave as heat rushes through my veins. “Please, Chord.”
He shifts, slipping his boxers down, sliding into me in one fluid motion. At this moment, he gives me what I need. A safe place to lose myself in, without thought of where we are and what we face.
Chord and I decide to go to work. We need a sense of normalcy at times. The wait is driving us insane, a week is seven days longer than we can take. Silas is in his daddy’s office, his Uncle One bought him a mini fridge with everything he could want in it.
I love this family, my family.
“Hey, baby. I need to run this over to the courthouse to get it filed. Will y’all be okay for about thirty minutes?” Chord’s brows are pulled tight, he hates going anywhere we’re not.
“We’ll be fine for a half hour.” I smile, hoping to convince him.
“I’ll be right back.” He leans in with a kiss that’s interrupted with a ringing phone. His face goes pale as he glares at the screen. A pang in my stomach has it bottoming out.
“It’s them.”
He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “Chord Hamilton.” He listens quietly as I hold my breath. “I understand, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Thank you.”
I begin to tremble uncontrollably, and Chord takes my hand, hauling me to his chest. I would give anything to stay here, in his embrace. This is not my reality, it’s one only nightmares are made of.
“Did they say anything else?” One’s voice is low, filled with worry.
“No, I guess we’ll know everything then.” Chord’s forehead is pulled tight, wrinkled.
“I’ll make arrangements for you. Brannon can file the papers, you need to pack in case they keep you.” One takes his phone out, texting like rapid fire.
“Chord?” His eyes lock with mine, reflecting everything I’m feeling. Lost, confused, wrecked and yet, he stands strong.
“We’ve got this, together.” He presses his lips to mine. “Always.” I nod, choosing to let him think I believe his words, knowing we both feel hopeless.
“I’ll finish here. Take the papers or we’ll just go home and worry.”
“Thirty minutes.” He kisses me again then heads out.
“Sarah, y’all can go home and take care of what you need to do.” One tilts his head, his mouth in a firm line.
“We know, but we also need to work; it’s important to us both.”
“Alright. Everything’s ready for tomorrow, and don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.” One slips his arm around me, hugging me like he always has, my big brother.
The last twenty-four hours have been the longest in my life. I sit here, leaning on Chord, holding our son’s hand, terrified.
“Hamilton.” Chord stands with Silas, his grip tightens on me as I sit there.
He turns to me. “Come on, baby. We’ve got to do this.”
I will myself to move, clasping his hand in a vice. “You’ve got us?”
“I do.” He holds Silas close, never letting me go. The nurse shows us into Doctor Garcia’s office, taking Silas with her to the exam room.
We watch the doctor walk in, sitting in front of us. Neither of us breathing. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Doctor Garcia.” Chord tucks my hand under his arm.
“I’m going to explain what you’re facing and what I believe to be the best plan for Silas. Please know, you can ask any questions, interrupt me if you need, or take as much time as you need to understand everything as we start this process,” she says, and we nod in unison.
“Silas has a rare childhood cancer that occurs in the liver. There are a number of things that could’ve been factors in the development. The cancer is in his right lobe but has metastasized to his right lung at this point.
“This disease primarily affects children early in life but as old as five to six years of age. Surgery is not an option; to be frank, I’m not sure treatment will be of any help. With that said, I feel we need to try. Every case is different, as is each patient.” I sit there, the room spinning, my ears are ringing from the blood coursing through my veins.
“What are you suggesting?” Chord is shaking, but his voice doesn’t match.
“Again, surgery isn’t an option. We can try to stop the growth with chemotherapy, hoping it helps to shrink it and keep it from attaching to any other organs. As for the long term, there’s no promise this will help.
“It will largely depend on Silas’ toleration of the medication and if, at this stage, it will help. Cells have also been found in his lymph nodes. We consider this stage four and in the most serious form.” We don’t move when she’s done.
My body revolts, I have to vomit. I spring from my chair, Chord on my heels. “Here, use this one.” Doctor Garcia points to her restroom.
I run, losing the contents of my stomach as soon as I lift the seat. Chord stands, holding me up as he gathers my hair. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, collapsing into his arms.
There, we sit on the floor of a restroom, holding each other. Our world falling apart just as it was coming together. Chord pulls himself together, helping me up. I prop myself against the door as he hands me a cold, wet towel.
I wipe my face, then my mouth. Stepping to the sink, I rinse the taste from it. Chord helps me to straighten my hair. His arm around me as we join the doctor again, no words have we spoken. There isn’t any to compare to how we feel.
“I’m sorry, I deal with this every day and it never gets easier. I find myself angry most days but continue on, in hopes of making a difference in the rare chance that I can.” Her voice is low, calming.
“What do we do now?” Chord’s words are short and precise.
“I can set up intravenous therapy, locally for you. You would need to return here for follow-up tests and ongoing treatment. We will need more tests after a few weeks to see if there’s any change, even small shifts can be promising,” she explains.
“What is your prognosis? Will this help or are we up against a beast with no hope.” I sink my nails into Chord’s hand, he doesn’t flinch. I’m not sure I can hear this, but I
guess I need to.
“With Silas’ particular progression and the fact it has already metastasized, I’m skeptical, but again—every situation is different.” She folds her hands in front of her.
“We have to try. I want to do everything humanly possible for him. And if I need to go beyond, I damn well will. Tell me and I’ll do it.” Chord’s resolve cracks, his armor has taken all the beating it can today.
“I’ll set him up. Give me just a moment and I’ll be right back with his information.” She stands.
Chord bolts from the room. I follow him, finding him across the hall. I clasp my chest when I find him, Silas in his arms. My heart clenches. I can’t catch my breath as I watch Chord hold the son he was just given but has no promise of keeping.
His knees buckle with the weight of his hurt, destroyed with pain. He falls into a chair, clutching Silas to his chest. I fist my hair, begging this to be a nightmare. Praying I’m not awake.
Doctor Garcia returns with Silas’ orders. I put them in my purse as Chord stands with our son, taking my hand. We stop for a return appointment, they schedule testing, and we’re ready to go home.
Chord holds Silas all the way home, I’m molded to his side. Neither of us wanting to let go of the other. We arrive home, battered and bruised, knowing our hearts will never be the same. Yet, we’re together and that’s all that matters.
“We need to eat, anyone want anything special?” Chord asks.
The doorbell rings, and we know exactly who it is—our family. “You didn’t call.”
“I forgot, they must’ve known when we landed. Should I tell them to go?” His frown is deep.
“No. We need them now more than ever.” He caresses my cheek.
“I love you. Most.” He jogs to the front door.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call, we’re just out of it,” Chord says as everyone walks in, carrying multiple things in boxes and bags.
“Food, wasn’t sure what y’all would want, so it’s a little bit of everything,” Elise says as she kisses Silas.
“Did you bring sketti?” He raises his brows.
“We did. There’s popsicles, ice cream, chicken and pot stickers. You name it, we have it,” Lea says from the kitchen.
