by Jim Cangany
"Sorry. No such thing exists. I've always kept ticket stubs, programs, things like that and when I moved here, they all got thrown in this box. I do have one thing that gets kind of close to the 'I'm obsessed with Cassandra line' though. Care to see it?"
With a grimace, she leaned back. "I'm not sure I like the sound of this."
I flipped through a few programs and found the CD case. "It's not that bad. May even clear up a few old rumors."
I handed the collectible to Annie.
She sucked in a little breath. "Oh my Lord. So it's true."
Her eyes were wide with apparent amazement. The CD she held was one of the legendary copies of Find Me a Friend with her name listed as Cassie Lawrence.
"I've never seen one before. I honestly thought it was a publicity stunt the record company pulled. I never knew."
"Yeah, well I've only seen two other copies. A guy was selling one when I was at Bonnaroo a few years back. The other was in this underground-type record store in Boulder. The place creeped me out so I didn't stick around long, and when I went back a couple of weeks later, it was gone."
"The CD or the store?"
"Both." I chuckled and put the lid back on the box. "You can have the disc if you want."
The old back injury twinged a little when I lifted the box and headed indoors to put it away. When I returned to the patio, Annie was staring at the CD.
"Why didn't you tell me you had this?"
"Does it matter?"
"You had to know I was going to ask about it."
"To be completely honest, I didn't want to scare you. Was kind of afraid you'd think ownership of that might cross the obsessive line."
"So why tell me now?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Just thought you might get a kick out of knowing the legend really is true."
She started to laugh, but ended coughing instead. After a drink of water, she patted her chest. "You having this disc doesn't scare me. I've had to deal with overly obsessed fans a few times, and you're plenty far away from the line.
"Something else has me scared though."
I raised my eyebrows and fought to keep any panic out of my voice. "Oh?"
"I've lost another three pounds and after last night, I've been exhausted all day. I know the doctor said the tumors are shrinking, but what if..." A single tear ran down her cheek. She rubbed it away with her thumb.
She got up and leaned against the wrought iron railing. "What if it's progressed down the lymph nodes? What if it's popped up someplace else? What if..." She wrapped her arms around herself as a shiver ran through her.
"Don't think I didn't notice the way you were looking at me a little bit ago. You weren't checking me out. You were assessing me. And without the glamour make up and designer clothing, I know it's not a pretty sight. I'm out of control, E.J., completely helpless."
She looked toward the clear blue sky and took a long sniff.
I went to her and wrapped her in my arms. Her breathing was ragged and she was cold to the touch. I held her tighter and rested my chin on her head, trying to transfer some of my body heat to hers. She didn't move, so I didn't either.
A cardinal's call from a nearby tree brought Annie back from wherever she was. "You're warm."
I kissed her head and took her indoors. Once she'd gotten settled on the couch with a blanket, a mug of hot chocolate and the TV remote, I headed back to the garage with a promise that I'd make dinner as soon as I was finished cleaning up.
My mind wandered as I put the tools away. When I was wiping the end wrenches down, I glanced to my right and noticed Annie's bike. A few cobwebs had crisscrossed the handlebars. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I closed my eyes and shook the terrible vision away.
The rubber band feeling was coming back. Annie had been in such high spirits and had seemingly felt so good on her birthday that I'd felt like after miles of chasing, I'd finally caught the tail end of the pack and could sit up and rest a little.
Now, after her revelation, the pack was slipping away again and try as I might, I couldn't keep pace. This can't be happening. I leaned on the workbench and took long cleansing breaths. Strength is what Annie needed from me, not panic.
Or fear.
Problem was, I had lots of fear, and plenty of panic, but not much strength. The tight, burning sensation in my chest that had lain dormant for weeks returned.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" I pounded my fists on the workbench once, twice, a third time. Annie needed me. I needed to be stronger.
My knees grew weak and I slid to the floor, my back against my car's front bumper. In an attempt to regain some composure, I started counting back from one hundred.
I was at thirty-four when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Miranda asking about Annie. When I responded that she was feeling discouraged, the reply was to the point. I'll be there at ten tmrw.
I breathed deeply as a small sense of relief washed through me. We weren't alone in this fight. I needed to remember that.
Thirteen
Between her seventh and eighth chemo treatments, Annie spent almost all of her time either in bed, on the couch or on the patio. It was if the Taxol had realized its days inside Annie's system were numbered, so it wasn't going down without a fight. The crippling bone pain would join forces with waves of nausea to send Annie scrambling to the bathroom. Once there, she'd spend the next hour or so with her guts turning inside out.
Not even massive doses of anti-nausea meds helped at this point.
After the third such episode, I established a routine. Once Annie stumbled off, I got an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a dish towel. I'd wait outside the closed bathroom door until the toilet flushed. At that point, I'd enter, help her lean back against the tub and place the cold pack on her forehead. I kept it there until she was able to hold it herself.
Once the goose bumps showed up, I covered her in a blanket. I'd give her a few minutes to warm up. After that, I'd escort her to the bed. Then I'd leave her in the darkened room and wait for a text from her, letting me know the worst had passed.
For the moment at least.
The days crawled by, drawing us inexorably closer to May Twenty-Fifth and chemo treatment number eight. Annie's final one. Her condition had gotten so bad I was afraid she wouldn't be able to take the infusion.
Miranda kept me from going off the deep end. Her periodic visits were like meals to a starving man, both for the emotional support she gave Annie as well as the clinical information she gave me.
"You need to watch her like a hawk. If she catches a bug, she could end up spiking a fever." Miranda made sure I was looking her in the eye. "She'll be okay. She's just weak now. But if she gets worse, call her doctor ASAP. "
A couple of days before the Twenty-Fifth, Annie finally began to come around. I'd taken to sleeping in the guest room to keep from disturbing her, so I was caught completely caught off guard when she woke me up one morning by crawling in bed with to me. She laid her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arm around me.
"I know it's not the sexiest request I've ever made, but would you mind making me some breakfast?"
The words were the sweetest music to my ears. Her recent diet of toast, applesauce and sports drinks, while not upsetting to her stomach, had meant more weight loss. I rolled over and looked into her chocolate brown eyes. They were still missing their old sparkle, but weren't nearly as bloodshot as in recent days.
She returned the gaze, her chapped lips curved up just a touch. I kissed her forehead and drew her into my arms.
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that request. What sounds good?"
"Coffee would be heavenly. And anything other than toast would be great."
"Coming up." I rolled out of bed and pulled the covers up around her neck. With a spring in my step that had been missing for way too many stress and worry-induced days, I headed for the kitchen.
I returned a little while later with a steaming mug of French Vanilla to find her aslee
p. A few passes of the mug close to her nose rewarded me with a twitch of her nostrils and a smile. Once she was comfortably seated with an extra pillow behind her, I got her computer going and left her to check emails while she ate.
Despite the blandness, she plowed through her breakfast of plain oatmeal like she hadn't eaten in a week, which wasn't far from the truth. She even stole half of my banana before she called it quits. While I was cleaning up in the kitchen, I heard the shower. She'd lacked the energy to stand long enough for a shower for the last week, sticking to baths. I started plotting how to get her outdoors as much as possible for the next few days.
Annie made up for her lack of stamina with an amazingly sunny disposition. While we walked down the Monon toward the Art Center, she sang silly songs she made up on the spot. While exploring the artwork on the Art Center grounds, she sniffed every flower and laughed.
We made it into Broad Ripple and took time to enjoy drinks and a snack in the coffee shop. "Glad you're feeling better," I said between sips of my iced tea.
Annie rolled her eyes. "Not nearly as much as me. I just hope I've got the energy to make it all the way back home."
"If you get too tired, just let me know and I'll carry you the rest of the way."
She gave me a long, penetrating look. "You'd do that too, wouldn't you?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, well, I figure it'd attract less attention than dragging you by the arms."
Annie choked back a bite of muffin and threw a napkin at me. "You little snot."
I bent over to pick up the napkin. Before I knew what was happening, Annie had one hand on the back of my neck and was giving me a noogie with the other.
"Ow!" When I waved my arm at her leg, she started laughing and let me go. I sat up and rubbed my head. "That hurt. How long've you been waiting to use that?"
"A long time. That's the first time I've used it since filming Who's In Charge?, as a matter of fact."
I grimaced. "You certainly got your money's worth."
Annie stuck out her tongue and pushed her seat back. "Stop being such a wimp and escort me home."
The walk back to the condo took a while. The distance from the coffee shop to my door wasn't much more than a mile, but Annie had to stop and rest three times. She tried to fake it the first time, but didn't bother after that. The minute I had the condo door unlocked, she was past me and plopped face down on the couch. Before I'd put my keys away, she was fast asleep.
Her appetite continued to improve, much to our mutual delight. I did a double-take when Annie told me the night before her final chemo treatment that she wanted a bacon cheeseburger.
"I know it's not the best choice, but I'm probably going to feel like crap for the next few weeks and won't feel like eating anything. I'm going out with a roar, not a whimper."
She kept it going the next morning, polishing off a Western Omelet with a side of turkey bacon and an English muffin. "Calorie loading," was all she said.
I was halfway through cleaning up after breakfast when Annie asked if I was still going with her for her final—we hoped—chemo infusion. Before straightening up from loading the dishwasher, I sent up a little prayer for the strength to get me through the day.
"Sure, if my presence doesn't cramp your and Staci's style."
"Please. She likes you. Besides, today's special for me. All survivors who complete treatment at the Center get to ring a bell and recite a poem when they've finished their last infusion. It's called the Ringing Out ceremony." She got up from the table and gave me a hug.
"I want you to be there when I ring that bell."
I'd never received an invitation that sounded so sweet.
It was a challenge to keep my nerves in check on the drive to the Cancer Center. I hadn't been there in a while and wasn't certain I was prepared for what I might see.
What I saw made me ashamed of myself. Everywhere I looked were survivors trying to get better, caregivers providing support and amazing health care professionals making it all happen. The people in this room had more strength than the entire Tour de France peloton could ever dream of having.
Once Annie got settled and Therese got her hooked up to the clear liquid with which I'd developed a love-hate relationship, I surveyed the room. Staci was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's your friend?"
Annie let out a long sigh while she gazed out the window. "She's been down with a flu bug or something, so they must have put off her final treatment. They were hoping to do it today, but..."
The way her voice trailed off, told me all I needed to know. While today would end with a celebration of Annie completing chemo, that celebration would be tempered a touch.
We spent about an hour going through emails and tending to Cassandra work issues. I filled her in on the progress of the tour DVD. A rough cut would be ready for viewing by the end of June. Her record label now wanted to release a live CD to accompany the video. The thought was to have both ready for a package release in time for the Christmas season.
"And when did all of these developments transpire?" If Annie's eyebrows had been there, they'd have been furrowed.
"Honestly, the last week or so. Everyone knows you haven't felt well, so nothing's been decided. This is just a proposal."
Annie scratched her nose. Miss In-Control was back in the house, even if it was for only a short time.
And it was great to see.
"All right. I want Beth to produce the album. Get her in touch with Josh. We'll want a couple of new tracks, so see what's in the can, maybe 'Bullseye' and something else."
"Anything else, Ms. Lawrence?"
I looked up from my notes. Annie was smiling at me.
"That's enough for now. Good job. I'll make a decent personal assistant out of you yet."
When we were caught up on emails, Annie leaned the seat back and closed her eyes. Once I knew she was asleep, I ran a quick errand and returned with a surprise without her knowing a thing. She woke up when Therese was checking her IV line. We split a submarine sandwich and passed the remaining time trading stories about the Indianapolis 500.
Annie had attended twice as a special guest and loved it. Her smile went practically from ear to ear while she described her trip around the two and a half mile oval in the passenger position of the two-seater Indy car.
"Oh. My. God. Screaming down that front straightaway at one hundred and eighty miles an hour, I'd never felt more frightened and more thrilled at the same time in my life. I've been all over the world, and that trip is in the top ten experiences in my life."
"What are the others?"
"She'll have to tell you some other time, because," Therese grinned at Annie, "you, my dear, are finished."
Annie's eyes lit up. "Really?"
Therese nodded as she removed the line from the port in Annie's chest. "You're free to go, but first we have a few things to attend to." She nodded at me.
While Therese helped Annie get out of the seat, I grabbed the surprise and held it behind my back. Therese turned Annie toward me.
I took a second to compose myself. "Annette Suzanne Wilson, you are the most courageous woman I know. You're also the most beautiful and talented and amazing and everything else." My voice caught and I had to look away for a second. "Today marks yet another milestone of your courage, grace and total awesomeness."
I brought the bouquet of red roses from behind my back and handed them to her. "Congratulations. I love you."
Annie took the flowers and breathed in deeply, her eyes closed. When she opened them, a single tear escaped. She didn't wipe it away.
"Thank you...Eamon Joseph. I love you, too."
Therese gave Annie a little hug. "This way please." We followed her to a silver bell that had been attached to a wall. Below the bell was a plaque on which a poem had been inscribed. The other nurses had gathered around us, everyone beaming.
"You know the drill?" Therese said.
Annie closed her eyes and took a second to compose herself. "I read the
poem and then ring the bell."
"Whenever you're ready."
Annie looked from her favorite chemotherapy nurse to me. She took my hand as another tear ran down her cheek. "Read it with me?"
We each counted to three and then recited the poem. It was entitled Ringing Out.
Ring this bell three times well.
Its toll to clearly say,
My treatments are done.
This course is run.
And I am on my way!
By the time we finished, tears were streaming down Annie's face. Therese handed her a tissue. Annie wiped away the tears and took hold of a white cord attached to the bell. She pulled once, twice, and then a final time. When the ding, ding, ding rang out, the nurses started clapping. Annie hugged me and buried her head in my chest. I turned toward the infusion area and saw that the patients and caregivers were clapping, too.
Therese leaned in close and nodded toward the infusion area. "Every ringing out ceremony gives patients in the room inspiration, just like you and Annie have given these folks inspiration now."
Annie went from nurse to nurse, exchanging hugs and well wishes. She saved the last and longest embrace for Therese.
I snapped a few pictures of Annie with the nurses by the plaque, and then we were on our way. The first stage of Annie's cancer treatment was complete.
It was time to celebrate.
Fourteen
We pushed open the doors and walked into a brilliant May afternoon. There wasn't a cloud to be seen in the azure blue sky. Halfway to the parking lot, Annie stopped and raised her face to the sun. Her eyes were closed, but the way her lips had curved up at the corners said it all. Today Annie was the victor.
At her request, we took a detour through the reflecting garden in front of the Cancer Center. She'd take a few steps, then come to a stop on the gravel pathway. I followed as she carried on her silent vigil. At one point, she scooped up a few tiny stones and tossed two of them into a small pond. Her lips moved as she did this, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. When we reached the end of the path, she took my hand and squeezed it.
