by Candis Vargo
“So, what’s the deal with you and Ryan?” I tried to lighten the mood. I didn’t want her crying; I hated to see her so sad.
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re a couple or anything.”
“Really? Because you guys have shown up together, on several occasions…”
“We’re kind of like ‘partners’ I guess you would say,” she sounded unsure of herself.
“Want me to smack some sense into him? You’re not a booty call! Either he’s all
in, or you’re out.”
“I don’t think it’s quite like that…I think he’s damaged.”
I gasped. “Really? He doesn’t seem damaged. Do tell…”
“I don’t know. I just think that he’s been screwed over too many times and doesn’t know how to trust to let someone in again.”
“Want me to use my C-card?” I raised my brow.
On the ride back to my house we spent a lot of time laughing like it was old times. I hadn’t laughed that much since I had gotten sick and it felt nice to be able to laugh again. I had Beth stop by a local convenience store so I could get a soda for the first time in months. I really didn’t drink the stuff, even before I got sick, but since I’d been sick I had kind of been on a health kick, trying to eat and drink only healthy things. But I wanted a soda something fierce. Since caffeine isn’t good for pregnant women, I opted for a Sprite. I wanted to feel the burn from the bubbles as it slid down my throat…
I didn’t see the point in getting my wheelchair out for just a quick walk into the store, so I walked inside with Beth right beside me. We took our time going to the back of the store to get my soda and I couldn’t resist the temptation of those little powdered donuts we passed along the way. I may have been sick, but a pregnant woman still gets those pregnancy cravings.
When we walked up to the counter, I
noticed a coffee can with a piece of paper taped to the front of it with a picture on it. The closer I got, the easier I could make it out.
The picture was a picture of me from before I got sick and the can was to collect donations.
I grabbed the can and read the words on the paper. It went on about cancer and being pregnant and asking for donations for the bills.
“What is this?” I snapped at Beth.
“I…it—it’s for help,” Beth stuttered.
“I don’t need help! Whose idea was this?” I was livid. From the beginning, I said I didn’t want to be on any sympathy train, and I didn’t want the entire world knowing about me being sick. Yeah, sure, people would find out one way or another, but having a donation can in a convenience store and my picture on it…well that just pissed me off. Looking back now, I don’t know why I was so angry. It was stupid, really. But I was sick, and though I never wanted to admit it, I was in pain both physically and emotionally, and I think I just wanted to take my frustrations out. Unfortunately, Beth was the one in the blast zone when I exploded.
“I…your mom. She just thought-”
“I don’t care what she thought,” I slammed the can back down on the counter. “She’s not the one who’s sick! I am! This is me…this is my life and I don’t want this shit.”
I never swore, or at least I tried not to. I still can’t believe I did, but that’s what happens when emotions get the best of you I guess. Anyway, I tried to storm off, but all of that yelling had robbed me of my breath. I only made it a few steps, and I fell down. My knees hit the floor, and I caught the rest of my body with my hands.
That was going to leave one hell of a bruise…
And talk about embarrassing. The kid behind the counter looked like a deer in headlights. Poor guy…
I instantly felt like crap for lashing out and wished I was able to explain it away with my sickness, but no matter why I did it, it was harsh. Beth just knelt down beside me and said, “You still want your soda and donuts, don’t you?”
By this point, I was pouting. Literally…pouting. “Yes…” I replied, and she bought them for me before helping me up. When we got back in the car, I immediately opened my donuts and shoved one in my mouth. Yes, the entire thing.
“A little hungry, were you?” Somehow, she was still smiling. I don’t know how she could do it…how she could put up with me, but I loved her even more because of it.
“Sorry,” I said, but it came out as a muffle since my mouth was still full, and powder flew out onto the dashboard. I tried to swallow the donut, but it was dry and nearly impossible. I looked over at Beth like a sad puppy, and she laughed at me while shaking her head and opened up my soda before handing it to me.
“Thank you,” I said, mumbling and spitting out powder again.
“Ok, enough talking before the evidence of your donuts is all over the car,” she laughed.
After I finally washed down the donut, I apologized again before eating another one.
When we got back to the house, Beth looked over at me before grabbing some makeup out of her purse.
“Here,” she said. “Let’s freshen you up.”
“For what?”
She stared at me like I was crazy. “Because you’re as white as a ghost and you need some color before people start thinking that they’re actually seeing a ghost when they see you.”
She wasn’t lying. I had become pale, and my skin felt clammy all the time. I had large, dark circles under my eyes and my eyes themselves looked like they had started to sink into my skull. I tried not to pay too much attention to my appearance because there wasn’t much I could do about it, but I decided to humor Beth and let her put some concealer on me and try to bring some color back to my skin. She wanted to put some eyeliner and eye shadow on me, but I didn’t let her go that far. My eyes were dark enough as it was; I didn’t need any smoky eye makeup to bring out the color of my eyes…
When Beth was done fixing my face, I was determined to walk in the front door. I wanted to know what it felt like to stretch my legs some more. Not to mention the steps to the front porch were a pain in that wheelchair. Beth tried to stop me, and she had perfect logic because I didn’t even have my oxygen tank, but I’m pretty sure I’ve already told you that I’m stubborn. She hovered as I walked, a hand on my elbow to steady me.
Joel must have seen us through the window because he came running out and grabbed my other arm to help.
“I tried to stop her,” Beth said.
“I can still hear, you know.”
Joel had Beth go back to the car and grab the wheelchair. It would have been nearly impossible for her to carry it and help me at the same time.
I didn’t get to actually walk through the door because, by the time I was on the porch, I needed to sit back down in the wheelchair.
When we went inside, I saw that Joel’s mom, Helena was there. My mother was standing next to her, and as I was wheeled through the entrance they both shouted, “SURPRISE!” There were evidently more people in the living room because another muffled shout came from that direction.
Our mothers wore pink party hats that had a miniature fluffy boa around the base, and they threw confetti up into the air. As it fell down on my lap, I realized the confetti was little pink bottles with the saying, ‘It’s a Girl!’
“What is this?” I didn’t know if I wanted to be mad, or sad, or just go with the flow.
“It’s a baby shower, silly,” Helena came over and gave me a hug. We didn’t see much of Joel’s parents, mostly because he wanted to stay away from their lifestyle. He loved his parents, but he didn’t love their choices. They had divorced by the time he was twelve, and both had been remarried at least two more times. The marriages never lasted long because his parents were never good at actually being committed. Apparently, commitment wasn’t their ‘thing’ and currently Helena was between marriages.
By the look Helena had on her face, I could tell that the news had spread to her and I realized that I was okay with it now. I was okay with anyone knowing. I wasn’t going to try and hide it anymore.
Ironic. We were cele
brating the fact that we were welcoming a new life soon on the same day I had finished making the arrangements for my funeral…
Joel pushed me into the living room and whispered to me, telling me to play nice. I didn’t like large gatherings because it always seemed like people couldn’t be themselves and someone had to get upset with someone else, and it always made me wish I smoked cigarettes. But I would do my best and try to have a good time.
I was glad that they had kept the guest list small. Other than the people I had mentioned, the guest list included Ryan, Joel’s dad and stepmom, Joel’s sister, Alicia and surprisingly, even my dad. He didn’t look too happy to be there, but he really didn’t look miserable either. Maybe just indifferent.
I hadn’t seen Alicia since she landed a job in New York for some magazine and moved there nearly a year ago. When she had lived near us, we were nearly inseparable. Joel always loved the fact that his sister got along with his wife so well that we were like sisters ourselves. Alicia, Beth and I were a group of best friends to be reckoned with. There were times when Joel was kicked to the couch so Alicia could sleep in the bed with me when she slept over…yes, we were adults who had sleepovers. Every once in a while, a woman needs a night of ice cream, brownies, and chick flicks with her best friends.
I half expected Beth to squeal just as much as I did but apparently she had already gotten all of that out, which only meant that she’d seen Alicia already. Joel must have known that I would want to jump up to hug Alicia because he had both hands on my shoulders, firmly pressing down so I couldn’t jump up. But once she was close enough, he let me go so I could stand up to give her a hug.
It’s crazy how much time can change us. In only a few years one can go from looking so young to wise beyond their years. That’s what happened to Alicia. Before she left, she was always dressed in hip clothes, the comfortable yet stylish ones. Now you could tell that she was a business woman. She didn’t wear a suit or anything of the like, but with her wide leg, brown dress pants, and a loose blouse tucked into them, it was easy to tell.
Before she left, her hair was down to the middle of her back, and she’d even contemplated getting dreadlocks. Now her hair was shorter than mine. Her light brown hair was cut to an inverted bob, and she wore it better than Victoria Beckham. There was something about her new haircut that made her hazel eyes shine, or maybe it was her eyeliner. Either way, they were gorgeous.
They gifted us some clothes and a bunch of diapers and baby wipes, which was something that was definitely needed and I was more than grateful to receive. My mom was taking tons of pictures. So many, in fact, that she had to switch out the memory card on her camera because she managed to fill it.
We spent the next few hours playing silly games but my favorite one was where the men—well, all except my dad, who was starting to look more miserable by the second—had to run around the house with a baby doll, come back into the living room, wipe it, put baby powder on it and then a diaper. Whoever did it the fastest won. It was a good thing it wasn’t whoever did it the best because they were all horrible, but I just smiled and told Joel how good of a job he did—he came in second place, not too bad.
Remember what I said about arguments being inevitable at family gatherings? Yeah, well…it wasn’t too much longer until that came true. I’m not sure what started it or exactly how it happened, but it was loud enough to gather everyone’s attention.
“How can you say that?” my dad yelled. “You would think that if you loved somebody, you wouldn’t let them kill themselves.”
“How in the hell could you say that to me? You think I want this? You think I want her to die?” Joel sounded like he was on the edge of tears.
“Well, that’s sure as hell what it seems like.”
We all looked at them in the kitchen as they argued, not bothering to try and stop them because we knew it would be no use.
“Well, you’re wrong! I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t ask for any of this but God damn it it’s not your choice and it sure as hell isn’t mine. You think I want my wife to die so my daughter can be born? No, you want to know what I want? I want to grow old with my wife. I want the chance to be able to do that. I want to start our family that I was promised months ago and to grow that family. I want to celebrate our fifty-year anniversary and tell love stories to our grandchildren, but I won’t even be able to celebrate our five-year anniversary and truthfully I’ll be lucky if we make it to the fourth!”
I was pretty sure that over the last few months I had seen Joel experience every emotion possible.
“I didn’t,” my dad started, but Joel cut him off.
“No, this is my house damn it. You don’t get to come in here and talk to me like this…you don’t get to treat my wife like that. This isn’t my decision and it sure as hell isn’t yours either. It’s hers, and hers alone. It’s her body and it’s her life. We don’t have to agree with it or like it, but it is her damn decision. I don’t want to lose her,” Joel wasn’t yelling anymore. He was crying. “God, I don’t want to lose her. And I don’t want to lose my baby either. I want them both. I want to keep them both and I don’t understand why I can’t. Why can’t I keep them both…?” Those last words came out as a whisper.
That’s when my dad started crying too. He took a few strides across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Joel as Joel wrapped his around my dad. They held each other as they began to sob into each other’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” my dad cried. “I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my baby girl, I can’t. It’s not fair, oh God it’s not fair.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked at them. The men stood there, crying like that while everyone except my mom and Alicia quietly left.
My dad and Joel both ended up apologizing to each other. Neither one was mad. They were just going through a lot, anyone could see that. I didn’t know what to think when I saw them like that. I had never in my life seen my dad cry—ever. It felt like my heart was in the pit of my stomach to see him hurting like that. I no longer cared about the things that he’d said or the way he had been acting. I knew it was all because he was heartbroken. I’m not saying that excused his actions and words because it didn’t. But there was no point in holding grudges. Most people would think that the things he said to me were downright unforgivable, but usually, it was the unforgivable people who needed the most forgiveness.
I wheeled back into the living room and sat beside the couch. After a few minutes, my dad came in and sat on the couch, right beside me. He didn’t look at me—he sat with his elbows resting on his knees as he twiddled his thumbs together and looked down. That’s what he did on the few occasions he felt ashamed.
“I’m really sorry, baby girl,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say those things I did. Quite frankly I’m not even sure why I said those things. I’ve been real unsure of a lot here lately but the one thing I know for sure is I will always love you, honey. That will never change.”
“I know Dad, and I love you too.”
“It’s just—it’s just hard. You know how you want to protect your baby so much that you’re willing to sacrifice your life for her? Well, you have to realize that you are my baby. I don’t care how old you are, you will always be that little baby to me. You know how much you love your baby and you haven’t even met her yet? Imagine spending twenty-six years with her, taking care of her, watching her grow and loving her only to have to let her go. To have to watch her die. No parent should have to bury their kid, ever. I don’t care if it’s as young as Amelia or as old as me, a parent should not have to bury their kid. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be. That’s not how life is meant to go. The kid is supposed to outlive the parent. It’s not right and it—it’s just not fair.”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I actually don’t think there was anything I could say to make him feel even the slightest bit better. He wasn’t wrong, though. I had a hard enough time thinking about losing my baby now. I couldn’t imagin
e the pain he must be going through. I was sacrificing my life for my daughter’s, and I know my dad would do that for me in a heartbeat.
“You’re not supposed to be the one who gets cancer. I am. It’s supposed to be me, not my baby girl. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. How am I supposed to go on when my only child is gone? I’m your father. I’m supposed to be able to help you with anything—anything at all. I’m supposed to shelter you and keep you safe. I’m supposed to be able to fix the things you need fixed, but I can’t fix this. I can’t keep you safe from this.”
I hugged my dad longer than I had ever hugged him before. I couldn’t take his pain away. The only thing I could do was try my best to smile. After all, there was still a small chance that I could survive everything, right?
“I love you, Daddy,” I said.
“I love you, too, baby girl.”
“Just make sure you love Amelia for me, too, okay?”
He pulled away from me and wiped his tears off of his cheeks.
“Come here,” he said as he sniffed, “I’ve got something for you.”
It wasn’t until we stood up that I saw my mom and Joel watching us and of course, my mom had tears of her own in her eyes. I didn’t know if they were tears from heartache or tears of joy because she still had a small, sad smile on her face. Maybe a little of both. We all did our best to laugh as my dad told me that he had a ‘very special gift’ for me. But I would have to walk up the stairs.
If it wasn’t embarrassing enough to be in a wheelchair in front of everyone, having to use my oxygen tank was the topper. I didn’t want to use it but I could tell how excited my dad was for the gift he had upstairs, so I agreed.
Joel wheeled me over to the bottom of the steps as my mom came over with my oxygen tank. Since I had been crying, they placed the nose tubes on me and turned on the oxygen before I even stood up. My mom carried the tank as Joel held my arm and waist and walked with me up the stairs. I tried to get everyone else to go before me, but they insisted that they stay behind me. I don’t know what the big deal was, but whatever, it just took a long time.
