“That’s what makes her special.”
“You think my mommy is special?”
I laugh. “Where’d you think you got your specialness from?”
She smiles, but her eyelids are getting heavy. “Read me a story, Uncle Crew.”
That’s one request I’m not prepared for. “I don’t have a book.”
“Make one up,” her voice is drifting off, sleep coming soon. “Or Google one.”
I chuckle, not even able to believe she knows what Google is.
“I like princess stories,” she says softly, her eyes now closed.
I summon my storytelling abilities in a child-approved form. “There was once a beautiful princess. She was nice and friendly and had the most beautiful face in the whole world. She met a prince that was roaming the world, looking for his kingdom.”
I pause, thinking she’s asleep.
“Was he lost?” she whispers.
“Yeah. He was lost, monkey.” I sigh. “He found the beautiful princess and she loved him and he loved her. But he thought he found his kingdom somewhere far away. And he went to find it.”
“Did he find it?” she asks.
“He did for a little while. And then he realized that it wasn’t his kingdom at all. It was dressed up like his kingdom, but it was a trick. He rushed back to the princess, but she’s not there anymore.”
“She left?”
“Well, she’s there. But she’s been invited to a kingdom with another prince.”
“Do they fight?”
I smile. “No, they don’t. The first prince realizes that if he were a true prince, he wouldn’t have left her for the shiny kingdom. He would’ve taken her with him. So he leaves her with her new prince because he really loves her. Not more than he does, but in a different way.”
I glance out the window and feel the sunshine coming in. “The other prince loves her in a way that’s better for the princess.”
“I think that means they both love her a lot,” Ever says, her breathing evening out. “Do they live happily-ever-after?”
I lie to her. “Yeah, monkey. They do.”
JULIA
Ever’s asleep in my arms. I hoist her on my shoulder and fiddle with the key in the lock. I see a note stuck to the door, flapping in the wind. It’s from the water department and I know it’s a disconnect notice because I didn’t get them paid last week. Once you’ve been late a number of times, they just go straight to threatening to disconnect you.
I heave a breath and push the door open.
One thing at a time.
I kick the door shut and carry a sleeping Everleigh into her room. I lay her on her bed and remove her coat and shoes. I kiss her cheek and tuck her in. She’s out of it, completely exhausted from all of the tests today. Her arm is getting a bruise where the I.V. went in and it makes me sick.
Her hand reaches out instinctively for her monkey. She pulls it close to her chest as I watch it rise and fall, her breathing even. I just wish I could pause time and stay right here, my sweet baby girl sleeping peacefully and me watching her. I can look at her and pretend like everything’s okay. I can close my eyes and try to pretend like I didn’t have such horrifying conversations today. I’ve always said I wanted to stop time to keep her from growing up, but now it’s even more than that.
What if she doesn’t get the chance to grow up anyway . . .
I stifle a moan, placing my hand over my mouth.
This can’t be happening.
The front door rattles and I don’t want it to wake her. She needs to rest. With a final glance, I leave her room and head to the door. I pop it open to see Crew standing there, shoving something in his pocket. The notice is missing from the door, but I don’t bring it up. Maybe it’s flown off.
Keep telling yourself that.
He has a fast food bag in his hand and I realize I haven’t eaten all day. The smell makes me nauseous.
I step to the side and let him in. He heads straight for the kitchen, but doesn’t sit.
“Where is she?” He places the bag on the table.
“Asleep. She passed out as soon as I got her to the car.”
I see his Adam’s apple bob and his eyes find mine. They’re dark and brewing. I see him hesitate, trying to get the courage to ask the question I know is coming.
“What did they say?”
I wouldn’t talk to him about it in front of Everleigh. I know I’m going to have to explain it to her, but I’m not sure how to do that. How do I tell her that she’s going to have to get one poison pushed into her body in hopes that it kills a poison already residing there? That she’s going to be so sick, experience so many hateful, painful things, all in hopes that that it will ultimately save her life? The doctor gave me suggestions and reading material and even volunteered to help, but I told him I’d take care of it. I don’t want to do it, but I want it done with more love and less sterility as possible.
I take a look at Crew and gather the tiny morsels of strength I have left. “It’s not good.”
His face falls. He grabs the back of a chair, his knuckles turning white.
“I don’t remember all the fancy words they used, so I’m just going to tell you how I understood it.” I fumble through my purse and pull out a stack of pamphlets and paperwork and drop them on the counter. “I haven’t had time to read all this, but they said I should.”
Crew pulls his ringing phone out of his jacket pocket. He doesn’t even look at the face; he turns it off and slips it back inside.
It feels like I’m watching this conversation from another dimension. I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but it doesn’t feel like I’m saying them. My entire body feels so vacant. Numb. I remember this feeling vaguely from right after Gage died. People would talk to me and I wouldn’t hear them, they’d sit beside me and I wouldn’t even notice. They’d cry on my shoulder and I’d just pat their back and then they’d leave, wiping their tears.
“Basically the tumor has already started to spread, which means the cancer isn’t located in only one spot. That’s bad for a couple of reasons, one of which is that they can’t just go in and remove it.”
He dips his head. I hear him take a deep breath and release it. I know he’s processing what I’m saying but I just go on, ready to get the words out and leave them in the air. He can do with them whatever he wants. I don’t even know what to do with them right now.
My daughter has cancer.
My hand trembles as I pick up a pamphlet. “Dr. Perkins said that it’s an aggressive form, so the treatment needs to start right away. There’s a plan in this folder if you want to read it. I just . . .” My sight gets blurry, Crew’s face muddled through the tears clouding my vision.
“Jules . . .”
I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “But here’s the thing . . . there’s a new therapy out right now. It’s been very effective in kids under six. They want to get Ever in the testing group.”
“Where will that be done?”
“In Boston.”
“So that’s in addition to the chemo?”
“I’m honestly not sure, Crew. There’s so much information. I just feel like I’m drowning in terms and dates and definitions right now. I should have taken notes or something.”
“Is it leukemia?”
“No. It’s called neuroblastoma. I don’t know if that’s better or worse . . .” My voice cracks, the events of the day finally starting to catch up with me. “I feel so stupid, Crew. I don’t even know what they said after the word ‘cancer.’ I must’ve sat there with a stupid look on my face!”
I start to cry, but he doesn’t come toward me. He just pulls his eyebrows in together and watches me like I might throw something at him.
“I’m failing her at every turn. I should’ve taken her in earlier. I should’ve—”
“What you should do is shut up,” he says, standing tall. “You’re rambling right now and that isn’t going to help. None of this is your fault, do you he
ar me?” He takes a few steps in my direction, his head dipped. “Not your fault.”
“I’m scared. No, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“I know, Jules. But let’s try to focus on what we can do,” he says, his voice full of more conviction than his eyes. “So this trial will help?”
“This trial is our saving grace, I think. I keep repeating what Dr. Perkins said; the trial will be more like a nuclear bomb instead of a drawn out war. That’s how he explained it.” I move to the table and sit down, my legs feeling weak. “I’m so scared, Crew. Their faces when they explained the diagnosis . . .” I shiver and Crew reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. I gaze at the wall, the wallpaper peeling away. “This trial is the only thing holding me together right now. The only thing giving me hope. The doctors really think this will work and will work quickly. Or that’s how I took it anyway. Maybe I wanted to take it that way, I don’t know.”
“So when does that start?”
“They’re just waiting on the insurance to approve it and then the doctor in charge of that will basically take over Ever’s care. Dr. Perkins assured me that they’re the best of the best. In the meantime, we go back for some blood work and another scan tomorrow. We start the treatment after that.”
“So, they seem optimistic?”
“They do.” I wipe at the tears with the hem of my shirt. “They had a panel of doctors go over her results today and they seem very confident that we have a good ‘game plan.’ The therapy is what they talked about the most.”
“Are you going to need help getting to the hospital or anything? I can’t miss too much work, but Will is on a different shift than me. I know he’d jump in if you need him.”
“I’ll figure it out.” I look at his pocket, knowing my water notice is in there. I feel like such a burden to him. I wish more than ever that Gage was here . . . for all of us. “I’ll take care of my water bill this week, too.”
“Stop it.” His tone gives little room for argument. “I’ve got it.”
“No, Crew. I’ll pay it this week.” I don’t want to argue about this. Honestly, I don’t want to give two thoughts to the damn water bill right now. I don’t even have the money to pay for it, but I’ve figured these things out before. Maybe Mr. Ficht will give me a small loan.
“Damn it, Jules. You have enough to fucking worry about. Stop fighting things that you don’t have to fight.”
“These things are my fight. They aren’t yours.”
“How can you fucking say that to me?” Even he blanches a little at the level of his voice. He shakes his head, his voice quieter. “How can you act like this isn’t my fight? Huh? Fucking explain that to me, Julia.”
I swallow hard and try to remember why. Everything is blurring together. “We aren’t your responsibility, Crew. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“Pity? Is that what you think this is? You think you aren’t my responsibility?”
“We aren’t, Crew,” I all but whisper. “I’m your brother’s widow, the mother of your niece. You have no obligation to us.” I look him in the eye and force a swallow past the lump in my throat. “And I can’t have you be a part of our life and leave us, too. Especially not now.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“You walk away when everything gets hard. You walked away from me once. You walked away from your mom when she was sick. You walked away from your responsibilities and good judgments and look where that got Gage. I just . . . I can’t count on you, Crew. I can’t. This isn’t my heart or water bill on the line. This is very seriously our lives in the balance now. You have a way of barreling into people’s lives and taking over and then just going and not caring how it affects them. And right now, I have to be completely focused on Ever and not worrying about when you’ll leave. You’d crush her if you left her now, more than normal.”
“You’re saying you think I don’t care about you two?” He looks at me in disgust and my heart drops.
“I know you care about Ever. I’m not saying that, I’m just saying that I have to protect her from you in case you take off. Her life is so unstable already.”
“Protect her from me? Damn, Jules. Give me a little credit here, won’t ya?”
“Crew, I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m overwhelmed right now. I’m just so completely overwhelmed right now.”
“Don’t you know I care about you, too?”
“I’m recalling a conversation from the park where you made it very clear you don’t do anything for me. And that’s fine. But I have a lot on my plate right now that I need to deal with. Things just got really serious here and I . . .” I hiccup back a sob.
His chin dips and he swears under his breath. “Jules, I didn’t mean that. I was just pissed.”
“It doesn’t change the truth behind it.”
“There is no fucking truth behind it,” he says defiantly, taking a step towards me. “You’ve always been something to me. Don’t you see that?”
“Yeah, sure. I saw how much of ‘something’ I was to you the day you came home after months of being in Minnesota and you just walked away. Again.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know what? That doesn’t even matter. We haven’t talked about it in years; there’s no reason to talk about it now.” I hear Ever cough in her room and my breath catches in my throat. “Especially now,” I whisper.
He watches me intently, his eyes searching my soul.
“Call me if you need anything. When you need something, I should say.” He walks to the door and opens it but stops one last time. “But just consider for one fucking second that me leaving you and going back to Minnesota was me telling you how much I cared about you. And that, Julia, has never fucking changed.”
I watch the door shut behind him.
CREW
The chains bounce with each hit.
I drive my fists into the heavy bag suspended to the ceiling of my garage from every angle. I rip into it, knuckles kissing the leather, making the bag pop with every strike.
“Ah!” I growl, glancing my elbow across the stiff leather. The sweat from my skin causes my arm to slide across the bag, leaving a glistening trail behind.
I stop, out of breath, and glance at the clock. I’ve been at this for a solid hour.
I heave air into my lungs and feel the lactic acid in my arms and thighs. I need my brain to concentrate on that and not on what Julia had to say.
“It’s not good.”
“Fuck!” I yell, throwing another combination. My anger surges once again and I take it out on the bag. Throwing another jab, cross, hook, I feel a burning sensation in the top of my back.
I stand still, watching the bag spin. My chest feels tight as I try to locate the source of the pain.
I’ve never really felt this before. I’ve pulled every muscle, ripped every muscle, in my body a number of times. But this isn’t that. It feels eerily reminiscent of my last fight at Minnesota, only much, much, much less.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I mutter, grabbing a towel off a chair in the corner. I dry my face and then throw it across my neck. “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch.”
I try to tell myself that it’s probably a pull on something from work. That I’ve never had anything hurt like that before, so the odds that it’s nothing serious are good. Maybe something just strained when I hit the bag.
Yeah, that’s probably it.
I head inside to grab a bottle of water. I ran three miles as soon as I got home. But when I was done, I was as pissed as I was when I started, so I decided to hit the bag instead. No matter how many times I threw, I couldn’t diminish any of the anger.
“Knock, knock, motherfucker.” The door swings open and Will waltzes in.
“I need to lock the fucking door.”
He just laughs, but I hear the hesitancy in it. “What’s happening?”
I down the rest of the water and
toss the bottle in the trash.
“Well?” he asks, leaning against the wall.
“Well what?”
“Dude, come on.” He shakes his head and walks into the living room. I follow him and sit on the couch while he takes a seat in the chair he always uses. “How are things with Ever?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
And I don’t. I don’t want to discuss this shit. It seems asinine you’d ever have to discuss this shit. A kid getting cancer. How the fuck does this even happen?
“Fair enough.”
“There’s nothing fair about it.”
He twists his head back and forth, considering my statement. “True. So, moving along, I was going to ask what you were doing tonight, but I’ll skip over that.”
“Smart move.”
He laughs again and I know it’s for my benefit. He’s trying to make me relax, settle down. Gage had words to pacify people; Will has his laugh.
“What are you here for, anyway?” I ask.
The asshole smirk leaves his face and he looks somber. “I was just checking on you.”
I blow out a breath and look to the ceiling.
“I feel like I should do something,” he says seriously. “I mean, I don’t really know Julia, but Gage was my friend. And you, I’d go to war with you, man. We’re blood. A small percentage, maybe, but blood anyway. I just don’t know what to say or do.”
“So what’s going on in Will’s world today?” I ask, changing the topic. I doubt it’ll take my mind off of Ever, but if anything can, it’ll be Will’s escapades.
His eyes widen at the opportunity to say something stupid. “I banged this chick last night. Tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Ever. Fact as fuck.”
“That’s saying something,” I laugh.
“No shit.”
“You seeing her again?”
He shrugs like he’s never thought about it.
I roll my eyes and flip on the television.
“This isn’t really my world, more your world, but your fight video has exploded over the weekend. I wanted to call you this afternoon, but I knew you were busy.”
Sacrifice Page 9
