by Tiffani Lynn
I never talk about Rena, not to anyone. Pushing her away was the hardest thing I’ve had to do and I hate to relive it, but for some reason I want to tell Valerie. Maybe as a warning, a reason not to get too close. There’s something that’s sitting below the surface between us, that tries to bubble to life when we’re in each other’s orbit. Something besides the insane chemistry we have. Maybe that will die if she knows what kind of heartbreak I’m capable of.
“Rena Mendoza. We met before I deployed to Afghanistan, and we hit it off. She’s the same age as me, beautiful and smart, but not strong. Rena’s not made of warrior material. She’s soft and sweet, the kind you want to protect from the world. I knew she’d never survive a life with me fluctuating between remission and chemo, not without it breaking her.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“It’s been about two years. She saw me toward the end of my last round of chemo and wasn’t good about hiding the horror she felt when she saw me. I was pretty sickly looking and was less than kind, hoping she’d stay away. It was too hard to see what I’d lost by letting her go, so it was better for her to stay gone. My cousin Antonio saw her at Dante’s about a year ago and she’d just broken up with her boyfriend. I thought about reaching out, but realized that nothing had really changed. Besides, she wouldn’t like all the hair I’ve got going on these days. She always loved that clean-cut military look.”
“Now that I know some of your history, the beard and hair make sense. I never thought it quite suited you, but I’m guessing you lost all your hair during chemo and when it came back you were excited to have it.”
“Pretty much.” She must sense the sadness that accompanies this topic because she ends the questioning.
“Time for your medication. You ready?” And just like that we’ve moved on.
The next day when my parents arrive I’m sad to see her go. I wish I could ask her to stay longer. It’s been such a nice change from having my family hovering. Other than the few minutes of talk about Rena and what could’ve been, I loved the time she was here with me. There were a lot of little things to enjoy about her. I love the way she crosses her legs at her ankles and props her wine glass on her thigh because she doesn’t want to set the glass down. I love the way that one chunk of hair falls out of the knot on her head and curls up tight, even right after she pulls it up. I love the way she seems to know when to change the subject or even stay quiet. Above all of it, I love the magic dimple in her cheek and I’m so glad we’ve stayed friends long enough for me to see it in full force. When we first met I got a hint of it, but I didn’t get a full dose until things with Ron settled down and she and Thea were off of rocky ground. Who knew that she’d end up operating on me and saving my life? Life’s full of interesting little twists and turns and although I fucking hate what I’m dealing with now, I’m glad I got a little bit more of her out of the deal.
Two Months Later
We’re barely in the door when the puking starts. In fact, I’m currently half-sitting in my own puke because I didn’t make it to the toilet and sent it flying across the bathroom. The nausea hit hard and fast on the way home and I wasn’t prepared. Mateo comes in behind me and I can hear him pulling out the cleaning supplies for when I’m done with this round. He apparently drew the short straw and got stuck with the first two days of sick-Javier duty. I wanted to hire a nurse to stay with me for the first couple of days after each treatment, but my family lost their minds. They said they’d throw her out if I tried it. Actually, it was Mamá who said it but even my brothers backed her up on that.
Valerie released me to the oncologist last week and we started today. I knew this round was going to be rough. The treatment is more aggressive this time since it’s a second occurrence, and for me it was the worst part last time. I’ve been dreading it probably more than anything ever before. I realize the chemo is poison designed to kill the cancer but last time I swore it was actually killing me. I’m not sure how I’ll survive a more aggressive round.
Recovering from the surgery wasn’t bad at all. My family was amazing and then every fourth or fifth day for the first month, Valerie showed up and kicked my parents or siblings out and spent the next 24 hours hanging out with me. Did I need someone 24/7 after the first two weeks? No, but they insisted on it so she continued to show up and hang out. I was tired of always having someone around. There was no quiet…ever, and Mamá moved all of my kitchen stuff around to the way she liked it. Now I can’t find shit and it’s driving me nuts.
Anyway, so now my journey into hell has begun and I can already tell by the way this is starting that I’m going to lose the positivity I spent the last two months building up if it’s like this after every treatment. I hate puking, I hate nausea and I hate the cold sweats. I can live with most of the other side effects, but those three I hate. I’m trying to pretend that the hair loss isn’t coming because I’m not ready to deal with that. Not that I mind being hairless, just that it’s an outward sign of the inward problem. A reason for people to feel sorry for me and I’m not a pity kind of person. Not to mention I get cold as hell without the hair and the beard. I should be living in Arizona or Florida. Getting the treatment somewhere like that would eliminate the cold issue for sure, but that’s not an option, and April in Colorado isn’t exactly warm.
The next 24 hours proceed with the extreme nausea and puking. Mateo is up with me the whole time, wiping my forehead with cool rags and bringing me water to rinse my mouth out. The anti-nausea medication doesn’t seem to kick in until the next morning, and when it does I pass out until late afternoon. When I finally wake back up, half-dehydrated and still groggy, it’s my sister’s voice I hear. I thought my mom was next on the take-care-of-Javie docket. I climb out of bed, shrug a shirt on over my head and switch my pajama pants for a pair I didn’t sweat straight through the night before. When I get to the kitchen, Adrianna is bent over a vat of what smells like chicken soup. She’s talking rapid-fire Spanish to what sounds like my papá and from what I can gather, my mom is sick.
When she lifts her head and sees me standing there she ends the conversation and smiles at me. “Hey, Javie.”
“Hey. Mamá’s sick?”
“Yes, she started with what is probably the flu yesterday afternoon so we wiggled some schedules and now you get me for the next 24 hours. How are you feeling?”
“You can’t stay here with me. You have a family to take care of. I’ll call the agency and they can send someone over.”
“No. Did you puke all your brain cells up yesterday? Our family doesn’t work that way. My kids are covered. Bruno can handle most of it and when he can’t, Tía Rosa is pitching in. No big deal. Now sit, you need to eat and take medication. Mateo said this anti-nausea is a necessity.”
Day three is rough and I remember why I always hated the third day. My whole body aches, I’m tired and I’m already dreading going back for round two. My mood hasn’t been this foul in years and I don’t know how Adrianna hasn’t killed me yet.
My mom’s still sick so Diego will be coming today to help. I heard Adrianna telling one of my aunts that they’ll need help tomorrow if Mamá’s still sick. I fucking hate being a burden and I hate feeling like shit. In the shower, I decide I’m calling the agency and my family is just going to have to deal with it. They have enough going on and don’t need my bullshit on top of it all. By the time my shower is over though, I’m so wiped out I decide to rest for a few minutes before I make the phone call.
When I wake up I realize I slept too long. It’s dark outside and the house is quiet. Damn it, I needed to call the agency and schedule someone to come out. I make my way to the living room slowly, the fatigue dragging me down, and find the whole house quiet. Where did Adrianna go? I wander toward the other master bedroom. The door is closed so I go back toward the kitchen, knowing it’s been far too long since I ate and drank anything. I haven’t forgotten the necessity of both even if I don’t want either.
When I reach the
kitchen I see that the clock indicates it’s six in the morning. Holy shit! I must have slept over 12 hours. How did that happen? That explains why my sister’s door is shut, why it’s so dark and why it’s so quiet in here. I fix myself something to eat, careful not to make noise and wake her, grab a blanket and take it to the front porch to watch the sunrise.
After a couple of hours my sister wakes up and fills me in on what I’ve missed, which is that Mamá is still sick and has passed it to Papá. The cancer center called and asked how I was doing and all the cousins are texting her to find out how I am. By 9:30 I’m tired again so I go back to lie down. When I wake up again, it’s the afternoon.
Chapter Thirteen
Valerie
Things had to be bad for Adrianna to call me. They all like me, but they prefer to take care of their own. Thank goodness I’m off for the next three days. I called Thea’s friend’s mom and explained that my friend has cancer and his family has all come down with the flu and he needs help. She agreed to watch Thea for the next couple of days since Ron is still up Sheila’s ass. I felt a little bad about pawning her off on someone else, but Thea was thrilled by the prospect of almost three straight days with her best friend.
After I drop her off, I run to the grocery store and then drive to Javier’s house. Adrianna is packed and ready to go. Apparently, her whole family now has the flu, including her husband. “Thank you so much for helping. Mamá would be over here if she wasn’t afraid she’d give him this. What a shitty week. This was the first time in almost 17 years that we had to cancel Saturday dinner and it’s because everyone’s sick with the flu. Of course, we probably passed it to each other during the last couple of dinners, but I feel bad because Mamá wouldn’t stop crying about it.”
“Well, don’t worry about Javier. I’ll be here until Tuesday night and if needed I can be here longer, just let me know. Treatment’s Monday morning, right?”
“Yes, I left you a note that details everything. Javie doesn’t know you’re coming. He wanted to hire some agency and my parents lost their minds, so don’t be surprised if he gives you attitude. He’s not himself, but put your foot down and use my mom as the reason you’re here if you have to. We owe you.”
“You don’t owe me a thing. I actually enjoy being with him so it’s okay.”
She stops and looks at me, “When I said he’s not himself, I meant he’s really not himself. I hope your skin is thick. He’s been sleeping a lot, but when he isn’t, he’s feisty. My brother has always been pretty easygoing and never takes out how he’s feeling on the rest of us, but that’s not the case this time.”
“I’ll be okay. I was in the Navy for a lot of years; you haven’t seen moody until you’ve been a female combat surgeon in a war zone on a bad day. It seemed like I took all their shit. I’ll be fine, go take care of your family.” She rushes over and hugs me tight before she grabs her stuff and leaves quietly.
I gather the ingredients for my mother’s potato soup. It’s the best I’ve ever had and it’s mild for his stomach so it should be good. I combine everything in the pot and turn it on low so it can cook all day. Then I grab a book that Rebecca gave me and get comfortable on the couch. It’s several hours later when serial-killer-looking Javier walks out of the bedroom with nothing but his pajama pants on. Even with the lack of exercise he’s still cut nicely all over and it’s easy to appreciate. He stops when he spots me and asks, “Where’s Adrianna?”
“She had to go home. Sounds like your whole family has the flu so I offered to come help.”
“I told them that I’d call the agency,” he grumbles.
“Well, I told them to let me know when I could come back and help. I’m happy to help. I don’t think you realize how boring my life has been the last several months. With Marina pregnant, Quinn at Carlo’s baseball games almost nightly, Rebecca dating the bartender for Dante’s, and me having Thea so much, I haven’t done anything.”
“Where’s Thea while you’re here? Did your ex quit being an idiot?”
“No, she’s staying with Minnie for a couple of days. She thinks getting to stay with her friend for more than one night is the coolest thing to ever happen so don’t worry about her.”
He runs a hand over his face and over his beard, which is looking a little straggly again. “Fine. Thanks for helping.”
After that we roll right back into the way things were when I stayed here last time and despite the fact that he’s feeling like crap, he still laughs at the funny parts in the movies we watch and keeps a decent attitude.
While Javie gets his chemo treatment I take a trip to the grocery store for him and stock up on the essentials. Then I sit in the waiting room, reading my book until it’s time to go. By the time we’re pulling into the driveway he’s been puking the last 10 minutes and I realize the next 48 hours are not going to be as easy as the previous 24. He must have had this same reaction after the last round because when he started throwing up, I noticed he had brought a trash bag with him. He’s sweating like crazy, but his whole body’s shivering and it breaks my heart to watch him deal with this.
The rest of the day and night are spent with me helping him in the bathroom, wiping his face and bringing him water. By the time he finally passes out, somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, probably from pure exhaustion, I feel like doing the same. I have no idea if the puking period is over so instead of going to the other room, I curl up quietly on top of the covers on the other side of his bed. He doesn’t even flinch and I pray that he’s able to sleep for a while. As I drift off into a light sleep, I pray for a better day tomorrow.
The next morning I wake before Javier and make myself some coffee and something to eat. After a couple hours he joins me. His naturally tan skin is pale, his eyes, which are normally jovial, are sad and almost lifeless; I can tell by the pronounced shuffle in his step that he’s wiped out.
It takes a few minutes, but I finally talk him into drinking a Gatorade and eating a piece of toast. When he’s done with that I offer to help him take a shower and that’s when I get what Adrianna was talking about. He’s not himself.
“I’m a man, Valerie. I don’t need someone helping me shower. If I can’t even wash my own ass I shouldn’t be breathing.”
“Javier, that’s not true. You’re dehydrated, you have poison running through your veins to fight cancer, and you’re tired. If it were a normal day, you wouldn’t need help. You didn’t yesterday before we went for your treatment and you won’t in a couple of days. A shower will make you feel better but I’m worried about you falling in there.”
“I can take the fucking shower by myself. I didn’t need help yesterday and I don’t need it today.” His eyes blaze with macho irritation and I do my best not to come back at him with something petty. He doesn’t need the argument and I know I won’t win anyway.
“Fine, but I’m sitting outside the shower while you’re in there and outside the door while you’re getting dressed. I’m not leaving you to stand in a porcelain tub as a fall risk because you’re being stubborn, so get over it.”
He actually growls at me before he turns and shuffles back to his room. I follow, giving him a little space. When I reach his bathroom, he’s stripping with the door wide open so I turn away quickly. We’ve had two sexual encounters and I still haven’t seen him naked, but now is not the time.
“Don’t bother to turn around now. I know you only offered so you could get a look at the goods.”
“Don’t be a jerk, Javier. I’ve seen more dicks than even you have. I have no need to see yours. Get over yourself and get in the damn shower.” I probably should have blown off his remark but something about it pissed me off. He’s looking for any way he can to take his bad mood out on me. If I wanted to see his cock it wouldn’t be when he’s too sick to use it. He grumbles and climbs into the shower, and I sit on the toilet and listen to him shampoo his hair and wash his body. Once he rinses and the shower shuts off I pass the towel to him around the side of the shower
curtain. Finally, he climbs out, his long hair dripping on his shoulders, and I can see a handful of loose strands sticking to his shoulders. I don’t mention it though because I know losing his hair is going to be a big issue for him.
“I’ll be in the living room when you’re done getting dressed if you want to join me,” I tell him. He nods but doesn’t say anything. About 10 minutes later he comes out in a clean T-shirt and drawstring pajama bottoms and sits in the recliner. Within minutes he’s asleep; the shower wore him out.
The next day and a half go by with him being mostly quiet and broody. When he does talk, the stuff that he says isn’t very nice and I do my best to ignore it. I get that he’s miserable and I don’t want to make it worse. On Tuesday evening, Claudia, Javier’s sister-in-law, relieves me. She wasn’t whom I expected.
“I’m the only one who got over it quickly, which means I’m the only one able to help. You can get going whenever you’re ready. I’m sure the last few days have been rough. Adrianna told Mamá he’s not dealing with it as well as he did last time.”
“He was a little rough, but I understand so I didn’t take it personally. If you need anything, please let me know. I don’t mind helping.”
She hugs me and thanks me again for being there, and I leave to pick up Thea.
A month goes by and I only see Javier once when I drop by to leave him some more potato soup. He was pleasant but quiet, and I feel like the chemo is poisoning the personality right out of him. It’s hard for me to watch. I can’t imagine how his family feels about it.
Thea’s finally settling into me being around full-time in a way I’ve long hoped for. It’s Saturday morning and Thea and I are getting ready to go to Daisy Rivers Ranch, Judson and Quinn’s horse ranch, where Thea will get to take horseback riding lessons, when there’s a knock on the door.
