What's Left of Me

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What's Left of Me Page 12

by Maxlyn, Amanda


  “Okay.”

  He heads to the door, but before opening it, he gives me a wink. Then he’s gone.

  I shake my head at the situation, and laugh at the thought of Genna being camped out by my door all night. I’m thankful it’s Parker who has to face her first.

  It hasn’t even been two minutes since I heard Parker saying his goodbyes to Jason that Genna is barging in my room.

  “Aundrea! What was that last night?”

  “Nothing.” I roll my eyes and walk toward my dresser, taking my wig off as I do. “We just fell asleep. Nothing happened.”

  I look back at her disappointed face. “Nothing? Not even a kiss?”

  “No.” I laugh. “It’s not like I was feeling 100% myself, Genna.” I continue to laugh as I grab my clothes and walk to the bathroom to take a shower.

  Once I’m behind the closed door, I sit on top of the closed toilet seat to catch my balance. My knees feel as if they’re about to give out. It feels like there’s glass grinding behind my kneecaps with every step, making it difficult to move.

  Taking calming breaths, I reach for the top drawer, grabbing the clippers I saw in there when I first moved in. There is nothing worse than taking a shower and pulling out clumps of hair or watching them stick to your wet body. Even though my hair is already short, it’s thick.

  Turning on the clippers, I bring them to my head. I hesitate at first, but then push the thoughts back and blindly buzz my hair, starting at my forehead and pulling backward. I don’t give myself any time to think about what I’m doing. I just keep moving my hand, letting the hair fall freely to the floor.

  It’s surprising how going through this before has changed how I handle it now. Like, it doesn’t even faze me. As much as I miss my hair and want it back, I’m at the point where I just want it all to be over with. The quicker everything happens, the quicker I can move on with my life. I’m tired of constantly feeling as if I’m reliving my past.

  I turn the clippers off, setting them on the counter with a shaking hand. I need to shave the rest, but I’ve yet to be able to shave my own head.

  Opening the bathroom door, I holler, “Genna! I need you a minute!”

  Within seconds, Genna is walking into the bathroom. One look and her hands are covering her gasping mouth. “Dre,” she whispers. “What did you do?”

  “It started falling out this morning. I need you to shave the rest. I can’t do this part.”

  “Dre …”

  “Genna, please. You know I can’t shave the back. I need it all gone.”

  “I don’t know …”

  “Please.” I hate begging.

  “Okay.”

  I straddle the toilet. Genna moves in behind me after she takes out a new razor and shaving cream to finish the job.

  I wait for her to lather up the shaving cream, but she doesn’t move. After a few more quiet seconds, I reach for it. Pouring some in my hands, I lather it over my buzzed head, covering every inch.

  “There. Now shave.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  She doesn’t move. You could hear a pin drop.

  “Genna, it’s easy. Pick up your hand, bring the razor to my head, and start shaving. You can’t mess it up. Just take it off.”

  “But …”

  “For fuck sakes, Genna. Shave my damn head.”

  She lets out a squeal of frustration before finally bringing the razor to my head. I feel her making straight slow strokes from my forehead to the nape of my neck. She takes her time as if she’s creating a piece of art rather than taking off hair.

  Genna shaves my head in silence. She only watched my mom shave my head once and, as I recall, she only made it halfway through the first time. She walked out crying because she couldn’t stand the sight of it, saying something about it being too difficult to watch. I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t stand it either.

  But this time I need her, and she knows it.

  Once she’s done, she sets the razor on the counter next to the sink and walks out without a word. I make my way to the mirror and stare at the unrecognizable person in the mirror. The shiny, pale skin that is now displayed makes me disgusted with myself. The pasty tone doesn’t match my normal complexion, and it makes me look a lot younger than I am. My lips look more chapped than I remember. My ears stick out farther than I thought, my eyebrows look misplaced, and my eyes suddenly seem to sit much farther apart. Even my eyelashes look thinner. I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me.

  She’s not me.

  She’s a stranger.

  “Good morning!” Shannon chirps in my ear as I pour a cup of coffee.

  I want to groan in response. I’m exhausted. My head is pounding for no apparent reason besides trying to annoy me further. The joints in my hands and knees have been keeping me up, causing me to toss and turn all night in hopes of getting the pain to subside. It never did.

  I was given a prescription of Percocet for pain and Robaxin to relax my muscles just before my bone marrow procedure. Dr. Olson informed me that I might need them during chemo and to call if I needed a refill, but I never use them. Narcotics and I don’t mix well. My body becomes light, my vision comes and goes, and it makes me feel as if I’m having an out of body experience.

  Putting on my fake smile and the same chirping voice as Shannon, I reply, “Morning! How are you?”

  “Great. How have you been doing?” She lowers her voice, even though we’re alone, and becomes serious.

  I want to roll my eyes.

  “I’m doing fine. Thank you.”

  “You changed your hair.”

  I had to change it out to a different wig once I shaved my head because I no longer have hair to clip it onto. There is a special double-sided tape I can use to keep the wig on, but it never works. At some point, the wig slides or shifts.

  “Yeah, I had to.”

  “I like it.” She nods her head in approval as she looks the style over.

  “Thank you.”

  This wig is the same length, for the most part—maybe a little shorter—and dark brown, with some auburn mixed in. I love the color. I also have side bangs. It’s a new style, and Genna assured me everyone will think I just got it cut and colored.

  I play off the new look to some of the girls as they give compliments on the color and style. I politely give them my thanks and hurry away before they get too close, noticing something off about it.

  Shannon and I leave the break room, coffees in hand, making our way to the front desk.

  “I just want you to know, I never told Bryn about your cancer. Despite what she may imply, she doesn’t know anything about it. I’ve been meaning to tell you that,” she says as she switches the phones from the overnight message to on.

  “Thank you.” I give her a smile. It makes me feel a lot better that she doesn’t know. She’d be the one to tell Parker and that would ruin everything.

  After settling behind the desk she tells me I’ll be helping her for the day. I’m thankful Jason is done with the conversion to electronic records because I don’t think I could stand looking at another computer screen.

  I pull out my backpack to put my phone away just as the side door opens and Parker and Bryn walk in together. He must have said something funny because he’s smiling wide and she’s laughing. Her laugh is high-pitched and annoying, reminding me of the hyena from The Lion King.

  I roll my eyes.

  He holds the door open as she walks through. I watch as she starts down the hallway toward the back. She has on tight black dress pants and a pink and purple sweater. Her hair is pinned up with loose curls falling down, framing her petite face. She’s beautiful, and I’m annoyed with myself for thinking so.

  When I take my eyes off her back, I notice Parker looking at me. He still has a small grin on his face. I can’t tell if it’s from his conversation with Bryn or if he’s happy to see me.

  “Good morning, Parker,” Shannon calls out.

  “Go
od morning, ladies,” he says, looking at me. I roll my eyes at him. I’m not jealous, I tell myself. He is free to laugh with other girls.

  His eyes roam over my face and hair, and suddenly I’m not thinking about him and Bryn laughing, but rather him noticing my hair change. I run my hands over my hair self-consciously. When I don’t say anything in return, he turns and walks down the hall.

  “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “That. You and Parker.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you don’t. Why didn’t you say anything to him?”

  “I didn’t know I had to.”

  “Aundrea, is something going on with you two, because you know nothing is going on with him and Bryn, right? Yes, she likes him, but from what I’ve heard, he told her he doesn’t like her that way.”

  I shrug and start answering phones. I don’t care if he likes her or not. We’re not together. He’s free to talk, date, and laugh with whomever he wants. I’d just prefer him not to flaunt it in front of me.

  The morning moves along at a snail’s pace. I watch the clock turn with every passing minute, waiting for the day to be over. My head starts to pound after the fifth dog comes in, barking so loudly it causes all the animals in the back to go crazy, and Shannon has to bring the pet owner and the dog immediately into the exam room in hopes of calming the other animals. I take that opportunity to go back into Jason’s office where it is quiet and rest my head.

  I’m just about to doze off when the door opens. Can I ever just be left alone?

  “Hey, you okay? Shannon said you came back here,” Jason asks. I’m thankful he doesn’t turn the light on.

  “I just have a headache.”

  “Do you need something?”

  “Nah. I’ll be okay. Sorry, I’m not much help at the moment.”

  “Nonsense. Every little bit helps.” He comes over to me, bending down and resting his hand on my upper back. I keep my head in my hands, afraid to move. I know I need to take a pain pill, but I don’t want to move for my purse.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  I let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I think so. I just wish my head would stop pounding. It’s like the pain is taking over my entire body. It wouldn’t leave me alone last night, and now it’s taking over my day, too.”

  “Let me help you, okay?”

  I nod.

  “Where’s your purse?”

  “Over there. Sitting on the chair.” My voice is muffled by my hands.

  Jason gets up and goes across the room. “You carry pain pills with you, correct?”

  I don’t answer. Instead I grunt with frustration. I don’t like taking them.

  “Come on. I know you carry them with you wherever you go but refuse to take them, and I know you’re in more pain then you let on. Genna may fall for it, but I see right through it. Take your pills, Aundrea. It’s what they’re there for.”

  “Fine. Hand me two, please.”

  He hands me two round, white pills along with my water bottle.

  After taking the pills, I sit up in the chair. “Jason, I think I need to head out. Do you think you can take me, or call Genna for me? I don’t think I can drive.”

  “I’ll take you,” I hear from the doorway. Jason and I both turn our heads to see Parker standing there. His face is expressionless as he looks at me.

  I give him a thankful nod and a weak smile.

  “Okay,” Jason says beside me. “You okay, or you need help?” He speaks softly so that Parker doesn’t hear.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, then nods his head. I love that Jason never pushes me. He knows his boundaries and knows when to let things go. I only wish Genna was the same.

  Standing up from the desk, I walk toward Parker. I can see in his eyes that he knows I’m not feeling that well. He reaches his hand out and takes mine.

  “I’ll let Genna know you’re on your way home, Aundrea. Thanks, Parker.”

  I say my goodbyes to Jason, then Shannon at the reception desk. Bryn is calling someone back into the first exam room right off the lobby. She raises her eyebrows in surprise. She almost looks annoyed.

  Parker helps me into the car and I immediately put my head back on the headrest, shutting my eyes. My head is throbbing and my neck is on fire.

  Parker lightly taps on the passenger window, causing me to open my eyes. He holds up a finger and mouths, “One minute,” then quickly walks back inside. I close my eyes, again, praying the pain medication kicks in fast.

  The door opens and Parker slides in. After a few minutes of driving, he reaches over and brushes some hair off my face. “You okay?”

  “I’ll be fine, thank you. I think it’s just a migraine.”

  “Just rest your eyes. We’ll be there soon.”

  I fall in and out of sleep, not paying attention to when the car comes to a stop. I feel as if I’m floating as the drugs set in. Parker opens my door and it’s then I realize we’re not at Genna’s.

  “Where are we?” I ask, looking around the parking garage.

  “My place. Jason said Genna is working and I want to make sure you’re okay. My place is closer and I have some things I can do. You can lie down and rest. It’s a win-win.”

  “Why would you want to be around me when I’m not feeling well? I’ll be no fun.”

  “Because I enjoy your company, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

  “Thank you, Parker.”

  He gets out of the car, and I watch as he makes his way around the front. I grab my purse, bringing it to my lap as he makes his final steps to my door. As much as I’d like to be home, I’m happy he brought me here.

  “Come on.” He takes my hand, helping me out. His arm slides across my lower back, hooking onto my hip. He guides me up the parking ramp, through the building, and up to his apartment right into his bedroom.

  “Here. You can nap here.” He gestures to the neatly made bed.

  My eyes widen. I start to back out of his hold, but he tightens his arms on me. “Aundrea, it’s nothing. My bed is more comfortable than the couch.” He pauses and clears his throat. I think back to our first night together and waking up in his bed.

  Parker slips me out of his hold. “I’ll be out in the living room if you need me.” His lips press down on top of my head as I close my eyes, taking in his freshly-shaven scent. He walks me over to the bed, allowing me to climb in. Closing my eyes, I listen to him make his way back to the door.

  “Aundrea?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I really like your new hairstyle.”

  My eyes fly open, and I sit up to see him watching me.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice. I like it … a lot.” I wonder what else he’s noticed, too, then. “Get some sleep.”

  I lie back down, staring up at the ceiling. I don’t have to look at him to know he gave me a wink.

  I wake up to a dark, quiet room. My head and neck are no longer pounding. I feel a slight ache in my legs, but swing them over the edge of the bed anyway. Glancing at the closed door, I quickly take off my rumpled wig fixing all the strands so they’re in the right direction. After placing it back on my head, and pressing it securely to my scalp for the tape to take, I make my way out into the living room to find Parker.

  His place smells amazing. It’s a mixture of herbs, pasta boiling, and some kind of tomato sauce.

  “Parker?” I call from the living room.

  “In the kitchen.”

  He’s standing behind the open counter that leads into the dining room. He’s drinking a beer and leaning over the stove, wooden spoon in hand.

  “Feel better?” he asks with his back to me.

  “Much.” And I am.

  “Good. I’m making spinach and chicken stuffed pasta shells. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Very! It smells amazing, Parker.” I go to stand next to him, getting a better look at
the contents of the pan.

  “I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I’ve rarely cooked in this place so, if not, I have the pizza place around the corner on speed dial.”

  The dinner is amazing. I even have seconds, which surprises us both. I love how laid back he is. Instead of eating at the counter or table, we make a picnic on the living room floor laughing, drinking beer, and eating until our stomachs are about to explode.

  I don’t want to bring up Bryn, but I can’t stop the words from leaving my mouth.

  “Is there something going on with you and Bryn?”

  Parker nearly chokes on his beer, coughing. “Excuse me?”

  “Bryn. She just seems to always be where you are, laughing at everything you say. She sits with you at lunch, walks in with you in the mornings. I’m just curious if there is something there.”

  “No,” he says, looking directly at me. He repeats it a second time, moving closer to me.

  I must not look convinced because he sets his beer down. “Listen, Bryn and I went on a couple of dates when I first started my internship. I didn’t know anyone. I was new to the city, and she took me under her wing; showed me around. We had fun, but it wasn’t anything serious. Once my internship was coming to an end and I got more serious about working with Jason, as partner, I told her we could only be friends. She took it well. It was amicable.”

  “Did you sleep together?” Do I want to know this? Do I care? Yes.

  He runs his hands through his hair. I’m beginning to think this is his nervous tell sign. “No.”

  At least she didn’t get all of him.

  “Okay.” I pause, searching for more to say. I don’t have a right to discuss his sex life prior to me. “I just don’t think she really believes your friends status. She’s always drooling over you.”

  “Is someone jealous?” he teases.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Because I know women. They say they’re not, but secretly they’re planning some way to take the bitch down.”

  I laugh. Not just a small laugh, but a full-on, stomach-clenching, throw-your-head-back laugh. “I’m serious! I’m not jealous.”

  He laughs as he gets up to clear our plates. “You want another beer?”

 

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