Nuts About You: A Testicular Cancer Anthology

by Anthology

  “Why, do you want to head back?” She asks, confusion etched all over her pretty little face. “I thought we were having a good time?”

  “I am. I’ve had a brilliant time, it’s just…”

  “Come on, spill.” She demands. Shit. I’ve not really thought about the next step of my plan. How am I supposed to get around this without disclosing everything to her? Maybe I should just tell her. I know that she doesn’t want secrets between us and I don’t want to upset her or lead her to believe that she can’t trust me, because she can.

  “I just thought it would be nice to go for a walk?” Well done, that sounded convincing.

  “A walk? What around here? Jake, it’s dark out there now and trust me when I tell you that there’s not really much to see.”

  “No, you’re right. I just thought it would have been romantic…”

  “You bloody wally. Yes, it would be romantic, but I can think of a few more exciting things that we could be doing with our time…”

  “You could, huh? How about you enlighten me?” I ask, if she didn’t have my full attention before then she definitely has it all now.

  “I could tell you, I guess maybe if we weren’t in public I’d be able to show you.”

  “Are you seriously trying to prevent me from moving from this table?” I’ve been sat here with a semi for most of the afternoon and now she wants to make sure that I can’t leave this place without drawing attention to my growing bulge? I knew these pants were a fucking bad idea. They’re the kind that cling to you in all the wrong places.

  “Well what else do you have in mind apart from your little romantic walk around Manchester?” I watch her. I could sit and watch her for hours but if I did that then we’d definitely miss what I have planned.

  “Come on little Miss Inquisitive. I’ve got something to show you.”

  This time Lucy doesn’t argue, instead she raises a cryptic brow and finishes her drink before standing up and smoothing down her dress. She looks so good in that dress….

  Come on Jake, you need to snap out of it and fast my friend. I think to myself. “After you, kind Sir.” She smiles and grabs my hand before pulling me forwards and we head towards the door. “You know, I kind of like the way those pants look on you.” Oh, so she’s definitely noticed then. Not to be all that big headed, but it’s pretty noticeable. “I think you should wear them more often.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” I laugh along with her and draw her in to me. Words really can’t describe how happy she makes me.

  Yes, I can spend the rest of my life punishing myself for letting her go all those years ago and I most probably will, but she has reminded me that life is for living and spending it with the ones who mean the most. I plan to cherish every second that we spend together and I’m sure as hell going to make sure that the memories that we make, will be bigger and better than the ones we lost out on; starting now.

  “Are you ready for your surprise?”

  Lucy turns her head to look at me and a huge smirk breaks free on my lips. “A surprise? I thought we were going on a romantic stroll?”

  “Do us a favour? Grab my keys and open the boot.” I really wish that I had thought ahead and videoed this moment. She looks, well she doesn’t look best pleased that’s for sure. “What?”

  “Why do I need to open the boot? Oh… is this some kinky shit where you’re going to pretend to kidnap me?” She asks and I don’t know whether to do what she asks or be a little worried at her suggestion.

  “Um, if that’s what you’re into then your wish is my command, but not today beautiful. Go on, open it.” I try to encourage her and slowly it seems to work as she finally puts one foot in front of the other. I wait patiently as she looks inside. Come on, this is torture. I need to know her reaction. Jesus, have I done the right thing or not?

  “Cases?” she whips her head back to look at me and I smile as everything slowly clicks into place. “Cases and the airport… Jake you didn’t just bring me here for lunch, did you?”

  “No. I’m sorry…” I say, unsure if she’s happy or just in shock.

  “Don’t be sorry. Are we going away? If you say no, then that’s when you’ll need to be sorry, sunshine. Are we, are we?” She continues, excitement running through her body.

  Well, I guess this is it. Here goes nothing, or maybe my balls. “Yep. I thought it would be nice to get away, just you and me.”

  “But how… I don’t have my passport or anything.”

  “Don’t worry about that, it’s all covered.” I really didn’t plan on her asking so many questions.

  “Hannah… was she behind all this? I don’t believe it.”

  “Hey listen, a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. Plus, Daniel helped.” I walk over to her some more and stop when our bodies are almost touching. “Don’t be mad at them, it was my idea but there’s no way that I could have done any of this without those two in my corner. I wanted everything to be so special.”

  “So, when do you tell me where we’re headed?” She asks while raising up on her tip toes and throwing her long slim arms around my neck. She smells of wine and her citrusy perfume. God when I smell that perfume it takes me back to the good old days.

  “Well, I was going to wait but seeing as though you asked so nicely, I’m taking you back. Back to where it all began for us, only now we can both decide where our journey goes. We’ve been given a second chance Lucy, a second chance where the two of us can make anything happen. I think it’s only fitting that we go back and start off from where it was left last time. What do you say?”

  “I freaking love you so hard, Jake.” She screams and her lips come crashing against mine and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I’m going to take this as her happy response. I don’t bother wasting much time as my body connects and entwines with hers so perfectly, like a jigsaw finally fitting its missing piece.

  Lucy love has always been my missing piece and now that I have her, I’m never going to let her go again. None of us know what the future will hold for us, but as long as we stick together, I just know that we can conquer anything.

  S.M Phillips is a fun loving mummy of two from Manchester. When she’s not busy writing, you’ll most likely find her head buried deep inside her kindle with a cup of coffee in hand. Talk to her when she’s reading and things could get pretty colourful, pretty fast. Just ask her Hubby.

  She is a lover of chocolate, especially if it has peanut butter inside and she loves a good cocktail or two. She often wonders if she should spend more time buying shoes, like most women, but then she remembers her beautiful never ending TBR list and realises that money can be spent on more important things…

  … BOOKS.

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  There’s No Place Like Home

  by

  Jade C. Jamison

  I know that cancer touches all our lives in some way. Recently, it affected two friends near and dear to me, and this story is dedicated to them: Gwendolyn K., whose brave confrontation and no-nonsense determination speaks volumes about her character, and Donna C., a selfless giver in the book world, whose brother was recently diagnosed with inoperable cancer.

  Finally, I also dedicate this story to John P., an awesome guy who flipped the bird to the C word several years ago! Way to go!

  Dear Re
ader

  This is a short story that can be read on its own but would definitely be enjoyed more if you’ve read my Bullet series.

  “Daddy?” The tiny voice of the two-year-old outside the door pulled Brad Payne from his innermost thoughts. He’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for far too long, just staring, staring.

  He’d often considered himself a lucky man. The frontman of a well-known and successful heavy metal band, he’d married the woman of his dreams; his best friend, a guy he considered his brother, had continued to be clean and sober for several years; he had three beautiful children—one by marriage and two that were his own.

  Things couldn’t have been better for him.

  Until they weren’t.

  December was the last time Brad could remember feeling truly happy, alive…grateful. His wife Valerie had been finishing up her second trimester and doing well. She’d seemed a little more emotional with this pregnancy than when she’d carried their daughter a couple of years ago, but Brad took that in stride. It was part of the territory.

  But it was then that he and his little family had made a trip over the Rocky Mountains to the Western slope of Colorado to visit his mom in his little hometown. They’d spent a few days with her between Christmas and New Year’s, and it was before the visit was over that she’d delivered to her youngest son some bad news.

  The worst news he could have ever imagined.

  She had cancer.

  But she was hopeful. She tried to smile and joke around, but the fact that she’d waited till after they’d celebrated Christmas told him she looked upon it as an unmovable mountain rather than a small hill to climb over. Brad, of course, had asked dozens of questions. After years of putting it off, Barb had had a mammogram and the results weren’t pretty. She’d patted his hand before telling him the biopsy was scheduled for the next day, acting once more like it was no big deal—and, no, she didn’t need Brad there. His brother and his brother’s girlfriend were flying in the next morning, and she’d have her oldest son take her to her appointments.

  Brad had bit his tongue, wanting to scream, Mom! You’re a nurse. How the hell could you let this happen? There was nothing new about her behavior, though. She’d played the part of sacrificing mother all her adult life, putting off her needs for her kids—and, apparently, even after the kids had left the nest, she continued to not worry about herself.

  Instead of chiding her, he felt himself quietly moving through the stages of grief inside but kept wearing a happy face for his wife, children, and friends.

  During the next Skype session with his mom, she informed Brad that the biopsy had revealed malignancies. And at this point, she’d already had a full mastectomy on both breasts and would soon be undergoing further treatments.

  Except the cancer had spread far and deep…and they hadn’t known it then.

  And Brad and family went back over to his hometown to be with his mother. In a matter of weeks, he watched as her health declined. All of a sudden, his mother, a woman barely in her fifties, looked old.

  And sick.

  It happened all too fast.

  And then she was gone. He buried her in March, just a few days after his birthday. It had almost been like she’d held on for that last moment.

  In this day and age, Brad screamed inside, full of more anger than he’d ever experienced in his life, how the fuck could this happen? How could a woman—a health professional, no less—go from lively and alive to dead and buried in all but a season? How did that happen?

  Val had been in her last trimester then and due the next month. Yes, he mourned—even publicly at the funeral—but he knew he was expected to pull his shit together. After all, he was a father and the leader of his band, the one that would be putting together a new album in the fall. Hell, he wasn’t the leader; he was the glue. Nothing happened without him.

  The problem was his day-to-day now was all an act. Yeah, he had his own family he had to care for and it wasn’t like his mother had been a part of his everyday life—but she’d been there, as close as a phone call, and he could have rang her up or visited her whenever he so chose.

  That choice had been ripped from him and he was struggling with it. And even though no one had said a word suggesting it, after a few days he felt like they all expected him to get his shit together and act normal.

  But things would never be normal again.

  He was able to fake it, though, and he must have been convincing. He’d held onto hope, believing that the new baby would be able to pull him out of the funk.

  The infant didn’t, and that just added to Brad feeling bad. He couldn’t even get his shit together for a newborn. Val was the best wife he could have asked for, and after coming home with the new little guy, it didn’t take her long to begin to suspect things weren’t quite right. She checked in with him frequently, asking him questions, hugging him, holding him close at night. That she knew he was suffering but thought he was handling it okay was a testament to how good an actor he was. But he already knew that. How many years had he been able to convince everyone around him that he had no feelings for Val before they hooked up?

  Far too many.

  He’d given a performance worthy of an Oscar.

  So here he was again, acting like everything was fine, everything was normal…but it really wasn’t. Val had probably been easy enough to fool before the baby was born simply because she’d been in her own moody roller coaster. This pregnancy had affected her emotions more than her other two, and Val would have been the first to admit it. The kids, too…so long as he went through the motions—reading a nightly story to Hayley, tossing a ball in the backyard with Chris, tucking them both in at night—they’d have no clue. And he preferred it that way. The kids should never have to know or feel what he was going through. It was bad enough that it had shown on his face right after his mom had passed, and he knew it when he’d seen his raw emotion mirrored in Chris’s face. But kids being resilient moved on, living their lives, and their dad’s turmoil was forgotten when it was no longer manifested in his features.

  Several weeks after the baby was born, Brad was still going through the motions. It was Friday afternoon and he knew he had to pull it together. The guys—his best friends and bandmates—were due over for a games night where they’d all hang in the basement, the space Valerie had dubbed her husband’s cave. There would be beer and pizza, maybe some chips and salsa, but it had become a tradition—once a month, the guys would get together without the purpose of creating music. It felt like old times when they did it, and it reminded them that they were brothers, not just coworkers.

  But Brad wasn’t feeling it. He didn’t want to put on his everything’s fine face. He’d taken to mourning in the wee hours before dawn when no one was watching or in the evening when he could act like he was reading a book. Having to pretend with some of the people who knew him best would prove to be exhausting…but it wasn’t something he hadn’t already been doing.

  He’d been trying to work on new songs as the band was due to put out an album soon, but he just couldn’t make it work. That more than anything else was disturbing. Writing had always been his outlet, his therapy, his way of letting go of all the bad shit that had hold of him. If he couldn’t write it out…

  So he’d been trying to writing a song or songs for his mother, just focusing on some aspect about her that made her unique, made him love her. That hadn’t worked so he’d then tried the everyman approach, writing a song for mothers in general and his in specific, honoring them for their role in their children’s lives.

  But nothing helped…and he clung to the hope that time heals all wounds—it was all he had…hope. And if his bandmates were to ask him how the songwriting process was going, he wasn’t sure how he’d answer them.

  So Brad stood at the bathroom counter examining his reflection—the dark hair and brown eyes that never seemed to change—practicing positive facial expressions. It almost worked—and it should, provided that n
o one looked him in the eye for more than a couple seconds. And, so long as he and the guys watched the TV and drank beer, no one would be the wiser.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Daddy?”

  Persistent little Hayley. She didn’t need in the bathroom but the idea that Brad was behind a closed door wouldn’t do. So he opened it and scooped up his little girl in his arms, kissing the top of her head before holding her close. When he felt her tiny hands on his chin, he looked at her. “Daddy? Down.”