by AC Oswald
“I can’t accept any excuses, Savannah. I can’t accept you leaving and not allowing me to appreciate every minute I have left with you.”
Her cheeks were wet with tears, but her voice remained steady. “You’re my best friend, Savy. You always will be.”
Savannah brushed at her own tears with the back of her sleeve.
“Now you can say something,” Bethany said.
Savannah’s hands shook in Bethany’s grip.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Bethany said. “That’s it?”
“Yes. Okay.” Savannah repeated, a small smile forming on her lips.
Bethany wrapped her arms around her frail body She held her close as if she’d never let her go again. She breathed in her scent once more, clinging onto her thin body. It felt like Savannah might disappear once she’d let go.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Bethany mumbled into Savannah’s hair. “And I won’t let you leave me like this. Not like this, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Savannah said. “Loud and clear.”
And it made Savannah laugh. For the first time in a long time, Bethany heard her laugh. Even if Bethany knew that the hardest months of their lives were still lying ahead of them—even if she knew the chances of Savannah’s recovery were low, and the inevitable was going to happen—for this one moment, it felt as if everything was going to be okay.
Chapter 6
“Um, ma’am? Excuse me, lady. You c-c-annot, erm, you c-cannot s-sleep here.”
The thin lady carefully nudged Bethany with her foot.
“Ma’am, did you spend the night here?” she stuttered and shoved her thick glasses back on her nose with her index finger and said, “If you don’t get up, I have to call my boss.”
Bethany slowly opened her eyes and tried to remember where she was. She lay on the floor, her head between a pile of books and a thermos jug that had left a small coffee stain on the khaki-colored carpet.
“What time is it?” Bethany rubbed her eyes.
“It’s quarter to eight, ma’am.”
“Oh, okay, I suppose it’s getting late,” Bethany mumbled, yawning.
“Late, ma’am? Eight a.m., not p.m. You must have spent the night.”
Bethany sat up and looked at her phone in panic.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, quickly stuffing her things back into her bag. “I must have dozed off. I was tired. I’m really sorry.” From the corner of her eye, Bethany saw the librarian checking out the books that had been lying next to her all over the floor.
One Renegade Cell: How Cancer Begins
Hope in the Face of Cancer: A Survival Guide for the Journey You Did Not Choose
Help me Live - 20 Things Every Cancer Patient Should Know
“I’m sorry,” the librarian said as her gaze was fixed on the book titles. “I’m not going to tell my boss that you slept here. Just don’t do it again.”
So that’s how Savannah must feel most of the time. That’s how people look at her when they find out that she’s sick. They pity her. It’s all in their eyes. No wonder she tried to hide it.
Bethany felt dirty from having slept on the floor. Her back hurt and so did her eyes from all the reading. She had tried to get as much information on the topic as possible. Treatments. Coping methods. Everything. Bethany had been eager to learn, eager to get at least an impression of what was happening with Savannah. If she wanted to be part of her life, she needed to know how to help, how to give advice, how to take care of her. She wanted to know everything.
“Thank you.” Bethany packed her bag. “I appreciate that.”
“Good luck with everything,” the librarian said.
Bethany stared, her mind blank for a second before she nodded. Luck. Yes. They needed a lot of that.
Bethany was almost half an hour late to work. She stumbled into the salon with her mascara still smeared across her face and her hair tousled.
“You’re late,” Patricia, her boss, hissed between clenched teeth. “Clients are waiting.”
“I’m really sorry,” Bethany blurted, out of breath from having to run to work. The stupid bus had closed its doors right before she had gotten the chance to hop inside and the grumpy driver had just taken off.
“It’s a little chaotic at the moment,” she tried to explain.
“Isn’t it always chaotic in your world?” Patricia muttered, pouring some coffee into a cup she then pushed against Bethany’s chest.
“Here. Drink that. And then use the restroom and clean yourself up. If you greet our clients looking like that, they’ll turn around and run out the door.”
Bethany did as she was told and took a closer look at her reflection in the mirror of the tiny bathroom. There were dark circles under her eyes, her skin looked flushed, and her hair was stringy. She really needed a shower.
Bethany quickly splashed some cold water into her face, then took a deep breath. I just need to get used to this. It will all calm down eventually. Right?
The situation with Savannah was still occupying her mind twenty-four hours a day. It had controlled her thoughts when she was at her mother’s place, at Amber’s place, at the library, and in her dreams. It was controlling her now.
Her first client of the day was Mrs. Robertson, a rather annoying person who talked a lot, and didn’t pay attention to one word the client said to her. Something about her son, she assumed, as always. Bethany tried to finish the haircut as quickly as possible to get Mrs. Robertson to shut up, and she half-heartedly shortened the woman’s hair. She was about to hold up the hand mirror so her client could take a look at the back of her head when she noticed she had messed up, big time. Part of Mrs. Robertson’s hair was cut much too short, and the only way to fix it was to shorten it all at the neckline. Bethany’s face lost its last bit of color.
“What is it? What are you staring at?” Mrs. Robertson asked, confused, her hand reaching out behind her head to examine Bethany’s work.
“Oh my God, what did you do?” she shrieked. “Let me see!”
“I—I don’t, uh…” Bethany stuttered as Patricia quickly made her way over.
“Out!” she ordered, her face hard. “I’m serious, Bethany. Get out and come back when you’re your old self again.”
Her hands shaking, Bethany nodded. She mumbled an apology before grabbing her bag and heading out. Her colleague Anna followed right behind her.
“Beth, wait a minute!”
Bethany sank down on a bench outside the salon. She bit the inside of her cheek to retain some control. Come back when you’re your old self? How the fuck was that supposed to happen? When she was used to the fact that her best friend was dying? Or perhaps after her death? When Savannah was gone forever? Whoever got fucking used to that? When would there ever be a point when she didn’t feel like crying, for God’s sake?
Anna sat down next to her and gave her a concerned look. “B, what’s going on? You wanna talk about it?”
“I messed up Mrs. Robertson’s hair,” Bethany whispered, her foot tapping nervously on the asphalt.
“Yeah, I got that part. But I mean in general. What happened?”
“Savannah happened.”
“Savannah Cortez. Your ex,” Anna said. Bethany nodded.
“You didn’t know, did you?”
With a confused look, Bethany’s chin shivered a little.
“The other day, when I asked you about her, you didn’t know she was sick?”
Bethany shook her head.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna told her and patted her thigh.
“I feel so embarrassed,” Bethany admitted, not knowing what to focus her gaze on. She felt like hiding somewhere. Hiding forever.
“I only knew because she bought her first wig h
ere. It was before you worked with us. She didn’t talk much about it, she just… Well, it’s awful. She’s so young.”
“Too young,” Bethany agreed, hating the thick lump in her throat that didn’t want to disappear lately.
“Are you gonna be all right?” Anna asked carefully, and Bethany smiled sadly.
“She won’t be all right. That’s all that matters at the moment. And it sucks.”
Anna nodded, then gave Bethany a hug. Bethany appreciated it. She appreciated that Anna stopped asking questions, because it was clear that there was nothing more to say. She appreciated being close to people, appreciated the chance to let herself go and close her eyes and be embraced.
“Do you want me to call Amber?” Anna offered. Bethany shook her head.
“I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“I’ll talk to Patricia, okay? Don’t worry. Plus, let’s be honest. You did Mrs. Robertson a favor. Ladies her age should stop trying to look like teenagers. Shorter hair will be much better for her.”
Bethany smiled as Anna gave her one last, brief hug and went back to the salon.
Bethany reminded Amber of a sad and lost little puppy. She had left her own work as early as possible in order to pick Bethany up and take her home. She had heard how upset Bethany was over the phone and had not wanted to waste another minute.
If Amber were honest with herself, part of her felt as if she needed to prove to Bethany that she could rely on her. That she herself should be the first person Bethany would call in an emergency or whenever she needed help. That she was the one person who should first pop into Bethany’s head whenever she needed to talk.
But now, with Savannah being back in her life, in their life, Amber was scared.
Scared of losing her girlfriend, scared of all the emotions that were slowly bubbling to the surface. She had never seen Bethany like that before. Bethany was changing entirely, and it terrified Amber.
“Beth, I’m sorry about what happened,” she began, holding the door of her car open for Bethany to get in. “I think you should take a few days off. To clear your head.”
Bethany buckled up, looking out of the window. “Yeah, I thought about it. I might really need some time off.”
With a smile, Amber started the engine.
“That’s good. You should really try to recover. It was a lot to take in. I don’t know, we could maybe get away for a few days, if you like? I’m sure I could arrange something at work. Maybe go on a weekend trip? We’ve never done that. It would be our first little vacation.”
Bethany stared at Amber as if she were from another planet.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Amber cleared her throat, focusing on the road.
“Why would I be kidding?” she asked slowly and gripped the wheel a little tighter. She had a pretty good idea where this was going, and she certainly didn’t like it.
“Ams, I’m not going to leave town when my friend is dying,” Bethany said as if Amber were out of her mind.
Heat rushed to Amber’s face. She could feel her pulse race as the jealousy and insecurity kicked in. “Beth, you are my girlfriend. All I asked you was if you wanted to get away with me for a weekend to clear your head, because you obviously don’t feel good. I was thinking of you and your health.”
Bethany remained quiet.
“And what’s with the silent treatment now?” Amber asked. “Okay, if you want to spend the time with Savannah, then just say so.”
“Don’t even start an argument about this, Ams, or you can stop the car right now. I am not going to fight about this. She needs me, and you said you’d be okay with it. You said you wanted to help me, but how is it helpful if you’re trying to take me away from here and make me forget? It wouldn’t work anyway.”
Yeah, it wasn’t going to work; Amber was sure of that by now. Nobody had a chance against the ex, right? Wasn’t this some unwritten law or something? That you could never compete with someone’s first love? Oh God, what was she even thinking? They were talking about a sick person, and she should show more compassion. This was the wrong place for jealousy.
Plus, Bethany was the most kind and caring person Amber ever knew. She was doing the right thing. Who was she to try and hold her back?
“I’m sorry,” Amber offered slowly, glancing over to Bethany, who still wasn’t looking at her. “What do you want to do now? Want me to take you home?”
Bethany nodded. “Actually, I want to take a hot shower, get cleaned up, and then head over to Savy’s. There are still a few things I need to discuss with her, and, yeah, she needs some real food, some proper groceries.”
Now it was Amber’s turn to remain quiet.
“I don’t know,” Bethany continued. “I think we need to get used to each other again, but once Savannah feels a little better and more open toward me, you could come with me sometime. You could get to know her a little better.”
Amber raised an eyebrow, not sure what to say about all this.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m shutting you out of my life,” Bethany said. “I want you to be a part of this. I need you to be.”
And Amber wanted to be part of it too; she really did. But it was going to be hard for all three of them. The situation was a dead end, and Amber wasn’t sure what her place in all this could be.
Bethany was biting her nails. Amber reached over and gently placed Bethany’s hand away from her lips and down onto her lap, where she held it. She loved Bethany. She knew it with all her heart. Bethany was worth fighting for. Amber was not going to let her slip away. She would not repeat the mistake Savannah had.
“You sit down on the couch and watch some Sweet Valley High!” Bethany ordered when Savannah opened her door. She looked at her in surprise. “I’ll cook.”
Bethany was carrying two huge bags of groceries, so full that Savannah was worried she might drop them.
“Let me help you.”
When it looked as if Bethany would object, Savannah frowned. “Don’t give me that look. I can carry some groceries.”
She needed Bethany in her life, but she didn’t need her to do everything for her from now on. She was still her own person. She still had her pride.
“What are you cooking?” Savannah asked, and Bethany smiled as she put some fresh vegetables on the counter.
“You’ll see. Relax and let me do my thing.”
“Okay, okay,” Savannah raised her hands in defense. “Tell me if you need any help.”
“Will do.” Bethany smiled and opened the book she had brought with her. It was full of colorful Post-its with little notes that bookmarked the best recipes.
Bethany started slicing the vegetables, and Savannah found watching her much more interesting than what was happening on TV. It was a good feeling to see her there. To see her moving around the kitchen, opening all the drawers, knowing exactly where the knives and bowls and pans were kept. It was as if she belonged there. It used to be their kitchen after all. It felt as if nothing had changed, even though everything had.
After a while, the whole apartment was filled with a delicious smell, and for the first time in a long time, Savannah found herself to be truly hungry. In the past months, eating had mostly been an annoying necessity for her, something she did to keep her strength up, but nothing she truly enjoyed. Now she could feel her mouth water, could feel some true anticipation inside of her belly. She looked forward to sitting down with Bethany at their dinner table and seeing her smile while they ate.
Savannah sipped the last of her tea and pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands when she felt a cool breeze blowing in from the open window. She loved being inside when it was cold outside and that it was already getting dark in the afternoon. She loved the warm feeling of soft wool on her skin and hot tea in her belly. And that Be
thany was here with her. It felt like home again. It felt right.
Bethany had started setting the table, forks on the right and knives on the left because Savannah was a leftie, while humming a song to herself.
Savannah gave her a warm smile.
“It looks great,” she said in awe as she looked at the casserole bubbling in the oven. “And it smells even better.”
“A few more minutes,” Bethany stated and smiled back at her. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Yeah, actually I am,” Savannah said. Her gaze landed on the book that was lying on the counter. She felt the knot around her stomach tighten.
The Cancer-Fighting Kitchen: Nourishing, Big-Flavor Recipes for Cancer Treatment and Recovery.
Bethany made her way over to her.
“What is this?” Savannah asked slowly, running her finger over the cover of the book.
“I did some research,” Bethany admitted. “Are you mad?”
The question was barely more than a whisper, and Savannah felt that all-too-familiar little pain in her chest. Mad? No. No, she wasn’t mad. Oh, she was angry at the fact that what had seemed so normal and familiar was now overshadowed by depressing reality again, but was she mad that Bethany was doing everything she could do to keep her healthy?
“I’m not,” she said softly. She looked over her shoulder to give Bethany a small, reassuring smile.
