He lets out a deep breath and sends me a text without breaking eye contact.
Jace: You. I never expected you, Keri.
I look down at the text and it hits me with such force that my breath hitches. He didn’t expect me. Can he really feel the same way about me as I do him? Does he think about me when he’s not sitting directly across from me? He has a girlfriend. A pretty incredible one from what I’ve seen. Why would he think that I’m anyone special? But as I stare into his eyes, I know that I will never meet another man like him.
Me: Ditto.
He reads my text and closes his eyes. Then his chin falls to his chest as he exhales a long breath.
Jace: Side effects, Keri. Now.
Me: What is it with you and side effects, don’t you ever talk to your oncologist?
Jace: Please?
I make a mental note to have Dr. Olsen talk to Jace’s doctor.
Me: Metal. My mouth tastes like metal. It’s why I chew gum here.
I reach in my bag and hold up my box-warehouse-sized pack of Trident.
Jace: More.
Me: Body aches. I feel like I’ve run a marathon even when all I do is lie around in bed.
I look up at him and he doesn’t look happy as he is twirling a finger in the air to get me to continue. The guy can’t get enough.
Me: Mouth sores. Nasty ones. Like I have contracted the worst case of herpes known to the human race . . . all in my mouth.
He smiles and lets out a breath.
Jace: Great, thanks. Now, tell me why you stare out that window all the time.
Maybe I was wrong about him. He could be bi-polar or schizophrenic or something. I’m getting whiplash with the extreme direction changes in our conversation. I decide to chalk up his erratic behavior to the side effects of chemo. Maybe I should list that the next time he asks me.
Me: The marina. It was the reason I chose this clinic. It reminds me of my dad.
Jace: Really. Do you go boating with him often?
I give him a weak smile and shake my head.
Me: No, we never went on a boat like one of those. We were far too poor for that. He had a small worn out fishing boat from a scrap yard that he and I refurbished when I was little. When we were fixing it up, he would tell me stories about places he wanted to take my mom and me. I was so young, I didn’t know better and I thought that the small three-seat boat was sea-worthy and would get us to exotic ports around the globe. When I became a teenager, I lost interest and didn’t want to spend time with my dad on a dinky little boat that my friends laughed at. Anyway, he eventually sold the thing. And then he and my mom died.
I don’t want to look up at Jace. I know what I will see. It’s what I used to see in everyone when I told them. Poor little orphan Keri. So now I don’t tell them. That way they will keep their pity to themselves. People throw enough pity my way without knowing that about me.
Jace: What’s it like?
I look up at him confused.
Jace: Being without parents, what’s it like?
In the eight years since I lost them, nobody has once asked me that. They say they are sorry, that it must suck being alone. They all want to know how it happened. They ask how I’m coping and if I need anything, but no one has ever asked what it’s like.
What’s it like? I think about the past eight years and try to put it into words for him.
Me: It’s like trying to breathe only there is no air. It’s like walking on a treadmill, not being able to move forward. I still can’t get used to living in a world where they don’t exist. I wake up and make it from morning until night and then I do it again the next day. But it works for me. And Tanner is there to help.
He stares at me again like he is trying to figure me out. Luckily Stacy breaks his gaze by handing him the ‘graduation’ card that he needs to sign for Ann who is having her last cycle today. It is a tradition to send them off with a card. Even if they will come back again later, even if they know they are not tumor-free. It’s just our way of saying we will miss them or get the hell out of here and go enjoy life. Stacy is busy explaining this to Jace when I get a new text.
Melanie: You know we all think you and Jace are getting it on when you’re not here, right?
My mouth drops open and I crane my head around to the side to look at her.
“Mel,” I whisper loudly over Grace who separates us. “It’s not like that. He has a girlfriend. You saw her the other day.”
Melanie and Grace both look at me with raised eyebrows like I’m feeding them a load of crap.
“Really, we just talk . . . um, text. We don’t see each other or even text outside of the clinic.”
“Mmm hmm,” Grace murmurs and I roll my eyes at them.
Looking at Grace’s wig makes me remember the cap Kimberly gave me so I reach in and pull it from my bag, explaining to the two of them how it came into my possession. They love the story and insist that I wear it when I’m here. Well, I did promise Kimberly. So I place it on my head.
Jace: Uh, Keri, something died on top of your head.
I laugh.
Me: Deal with it. It’s staying.
I tell him about The Freeway Station and how I met Tanner there and how Kimberly is so much like I was. Okay, so I may have omitted a few details like my propensity towards shoplifting and Tanner’s juvie record. By the time I’m finished, my fingers are cramping from all the texting I had done.
Jace: You’re unbelievable, you know that?
Jace: No, you don’t know that. That is what makes you so great.
I blush at his words. My fingers are too tired to text so I just sit and look at him. He waves Stacy over and gives her a note. A few minutes later Trina, the masseuse, shows up.
“I heard you could use a hand massage, Keri,” she says.
“Oh. Okay, thank you.”
Trina is busy sending me into a trance by the way she kneads the tension out of my fingers. I can’t text while she has my hands. All I can do is mouth words to Jace. Thank you.
He nods at me.
I startle when excited voices wake me and I realize Trina’s ministrations must have put me to sleep. When I get my bearings and realize where I am again, I see there is a massive bouquet of flowers at the nurse’s station and Ann is looking around for a card.
“There isn’t one,” she says. “Oh, how will I know who to thank? These are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
She goes on and on gushing over the flowers. I look over at Jace and see that he is watching her. He has a huge smile on his face as he looks at her dancing around with the bouquet that almost topples her over.
We lock eyes and I realize what has happened.
Me: You? You sent them. But why? You barely know her.
Jace: Why? Do you see the smile on her face?
I nod at him. I’ve never heard the man talk. I’ve never had so much as a drink with him, if you don’t count the coffee he got me that first day. I don’t know him outside the four walls of this clinic. But one thing is for sure, Jace has stolen my heart. Another thing is for sure. I’m in for a world of heartache.
Chapter Five
On Wednesday afternoon I stop by The Freeway Station to see if I can help cook dinner. They don’t have a cook on staff. That job is shared by all the counselors, who are mostly men, so they pretty much hate it. The residents are old enough to help with cooking and cleaning duties, but preparing a meal for twelve residents plus two or three staff is not easy and requires close supervision.
Today, I get the pleasure of cooking with Tyler. He is a fourteen-year-old four-time runaway who has major issues with his stepfather. He is here for a few months while his family seeks counseling to find a way for them all to live together. I’m pretty sure there was some sexual abuse going on in his home, but he won’t talk about it and Social Services hasn’t come to that conclusion.
We cook meatloaf and mashed potatoes, a house favorite and since my appetite is back I decide to
stay for dinner. Unfortunately, Tyler and another teenage boy, Anthony, don’t get along very well and tension is high at the dinner table. I try to mediate their argument, but nothing I say is getting through to them. I decide to take a different tack.
Thwap!
The room falls silent and all eyes look over at me in surprise.
Thwap!
Tyler and Anthony look at me and then at each other as lumps of mashed potatoes slide down their chests, where I flung them, leaving a gooey path down to their laps. They stare at each other contemplating what to do when Anthony says to Tyler, “Together?”
“Heck, yeah!” Tyler responds.
Thwap! Thwap! The potatoes are now running down my own shirt, dripping onto the floor. This sets off a chain reaction of mashed potato missiles flying across the table along with shrieks of shock and laughter that fill the house and send Chaz running into the dining room to see what has transpired.
When I see that he is about to barge in and try to take control of the situation, I lock eyes with him, shake my head and hope that he understands not to interfere with the madness that has ensued. Luckily he heeds my warning and, rolling his eyes at me, quickly turns to make his exit.
An hour later, after a massive deep clean of the dining room and several loads of laundry, I walk through the living room to see Tyler and Anthony playing Xbox together laughing at the way they keep killing each other.
Chaz pulls me into his office. “Keri, I heard about what you did in there, it was pure genius getting those two to make friends. Nice work.”
I smile as I walk back to the laundry room to help Kimberly fold some clothes. My smile fades when I see the sad look on her face. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m fine,” she says. Then she sighs. “It’s just that there’s this boy at school. Adam. He is so cute and funny and he smells so good.” She frowns at the ground.
“But?” I say.
“But, he doesn’t like me. I’m stupid and ugly.” She looks down at the scars that peek out from the cuff of her sleeve. “And he plays football and has parents and he doesn’t even know I exist. Plus, I’m only twelve and I’m not sure it’s okay to like boys yet.”
I put down the shirt that I’m folding and look her in the eye. “Kimberly, you are not stupid. And we all have scars, some of them are just more visible than others. They don’t define you. It’s okay to like someone, sweetie. I’m sure he knows you exist, and maybe he is afraid, like you are. And you know, even if he doesn’t like you, it’s okay. You will like lots and lots of boys before you find the one that you really want. At some point, we all like a boy that doesn’t necessarily like us back.”
“Not you, Keri. You are so pretty. I’m sure you never liked a boy that didn’t like you back.”
I smile at her sweetly. “Thank you, Kimberly. I think you are pretty, too. And, yes, it happens to me. In fact there is a boy that I like right now, but he already has a girlfriend so he can only be my friend. But that’s okay because I would rather have him only as my friend than not have him at all.”
She looks thoughtfully at me. “Well, I never looked at it like that. Maybe I should learn some stuff about football so that I can have something to talk to him about.”
I hug her. “That is a great idea. I’ll try to find you a book about it.”
“Thanks. Now, can you tell me about the boy you like?”
I proceed to tell her about the ‘boy’ who goes through chemo with me. Well, I tell her as much as a twelve-year-old should hear anyway. After she has pumped me of all the information I wish to divulge, she touches a lock of my still long and wavy albeit thinning hair and says, “Maybe you should let him borrow the hat I made you since his hair is falling out more than yours.”
I smile at the thought of Jace wearing Kimberly’s creation. “Yes, maybe I should.”
~ ~ ~
Saturday nights are crazy at the club. There is always a high-profile band playing. In fact they say if you haven’t played at The Triple J, you aren’t worth listening to. At least as far as local bands go. Tonight we have an all-girl band playing. Perhaps that is why we have an onslaught of men here and a lot of new faces I’ve never seen before. Two such men have been at the bar for a few hours. However, they seem a lot more interested in Tanner and me than in the band.
“So, Keri, how long have you been a bartender here?” one of the guys asks me, after picking up my name from other conversations I’ve had.
“About three years I guess.”
“And him?” He gestures to Tanner.
“Tanner got the job just before me. He is the one who recommended me. I had absolutely no bartending experience, but he taught me all about mixing drinks before my interview.”
I try not to get too personal with patrons, but in my experience, the more they feel they know you, the better tips they leave. So I play along.
The guys share a look. Then one says, “So, you’re dating him?”
I laugh as I mix a drink for the waitress. It is only the five hundredth time we’ve gotten that question. “No, not dating, but we do live together.” I like to let men know that I have a protector of sorts, in case they think they can come back to my place, or God forbid, think of following me home.
“Oh, so you’re available then?” the tall, buzz cut asks.
“No. Not dating and not available.” I walk away to fill another drink order.
Over the next few hours the two men ask us more questions about our job, our relationship and life in general. We accommodate them as much as we feel comfortable because we haven’t missed the fact that they are tipping very well.
“Keri, Tanner, it was nice meeting you two. Hope to see you around more,” says the one who I now know as Chris, as he reaches over to shake our hands. Then he puts a wad of bills into the tip bucket causing the two of us to go wide-eyed.
Tanner comes to the conclusion that the guys were from a competitor and they were sizing us up to see if they wanted to steal us away. I guess it makes sense from all the questions they were asking us. It wasn’t like they were coming on to me or anything. I’m just not sure either of us would entertain leaving The Triple J. Especially now that we recently got a raise. Not to mention they have been very accommodating of my health needs.
By the end of the night, I’m completely spent. Everything about my body hurts. I didn’t get as many breaks as I needed. However, I still ride home with a huge smile on my face due to the enormous amount in tips that we earned. At home, the tin full of cash that Tanner set on our kitchen counter the day I got my diagnosis, is filled almost to the top. I don’t miss the fact that he puts every dime he made in there, holding none back for himself.
Chapter Six
I walk into the clinic a few minutes late. Jace is already there, but his back is to me because his chair faces the other direction. I see a ball cap covering what appears to be his bald head. I let out a sigh and close my eyes, trying to compose myself so I don’t appear shocked when he looks at me.
“Hey.” I touch his arm as I come around his chair. I’m all too aware that my fingers are tingling from the sensation of being on his skin. He looks up at me and I hope my smile doesn’t look fake, but then again, how could it when I’m so genuinely glad to see him.
He gives me a small wave and then shrugs at me because he knows I’m seeing him for the first time without hair.
“Really?” I say, eyeing his Miami Dolphins ball cap. “You are aware that Tampa has its own professional football team, aren’t you?”
I hear little bursts of air coming from his nose as he silently laughs at me. He looks up at me and gives me a big smile. I know he is thanking me for not commenting on the hair.
I’m probably staring at him too much, but it is rare that we get this close, so I try to take him in. He is pale. His clothes are baggy and he is far too thin. I’d guess he has lost twenty or thirty pounds in the past month. Despite all that, he is gorgeous. Or maybe because of all that, he is gorgeous.
>
I walk over to my seat where Stacy meets me to do my pre-therapy vitals and blood draw.
“You really like him, don’t you?” she whispers while she’s working on me.
“What’s not to like?” I whisper back. “But we’re just friends.”
“Right,” she says, finishing up my blood draw.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” I look up at her with raised brows.
“Keri, he’s young and strong. So are you. You both have the best chances at beating this. I’m confident everything will work out just fine.”
She smiles sweetly at me and I wonder if she is still talking about our cancer.
Me: Hey Twiggy.
Jace: Only you would comment on my weight when I come in bald.
Me: You’re bald? The only thing I see is that you are a traitor. Dolphins . . . really?
Jace: I went to U of M so it kind of stuck with me. Went to a lot of pro games when I lived there.
Me: I guess I’ll give you a pass. Just this once, but I may have to buy you a different hat.
That reminds me of something and I reach into my bag.
Me: Wait! I already have one. And Kimberly even said that I should let you borrow it.
He raises his eyebrows at me and smiles.
Jace: Oh, she did, did she? And why does Kimberly know that I was losing my hair? In fact, why does Kimberly know about me at all?
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