The Wonder of Now

by Beck, Jamie

She dropped her arms and stared at the ceiling, eyes brimming with tears, her distress palpable.

  His chest ached for her, and for himself. He’d pinned so much hope on her book when he got that call seven months ago. If he hadn’t broken his rules, he wouldn’t be here having this conversation or dealing with the mental and emotional conflict now giving him heartburn.

  Despite his own goals and desires, he couldn’t ignore the anguish etched on Peyton’s face. “I’ll cancel the tour dates tomorrow.”

  She sat upright, relief smoothing out all the creases in her forehead as she dabbed her eyes. “You will?”

  He nodded. He had no idea how to do that without causing career suicide, but he’d worry about that in the morning. He’d known there’d be a price to pay for mixing business and pleasure, but he couldn’t in good conscience push Peyton to continue on a journey that made her miserable. Especially not when he couldn’t go with her to make sure she’d be okay.

  Savant would be pissed at both of them now, and while Peyton might have no interest in publishing with that house again, he needed to figure some way to salvage his relationship with it. Kendra Khan was breathing down his neck now with her launch only four weeks away. He would need to focus on her and run down new client leads to hope to recover from this loss.

  Peyton tipped her head, studying his face. “I couldn’t care less that canceling will reflect poorly on me, but I do care about you and your reputation. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to hurt you, either, which puts us at an impasse.” He turned his palms up and gestured as if his hands were a scale. “If I weigh my financial hit against your mental and physical health, there’s no question about which is the right choice. We’ll cancel the tour dates—or maybe Logan can go alone, although you’re the author. I don’t know. I’ll think up some other way to create buzz . . . call the foundation and explore some alternative, given its vested interest in the book’s success. Maybe we can get creative with Logan and find a new angle.”

  Instead of the smile and grateful hug he expected, Peyton stood and paced in front of the coffee table before stopping to shake her head. “Mitch, it means everything to me that you’re willing to do all that, but I can’t let you.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “I’m serious. If I put my needs so far above yours, it’s like the Claire thing all over, and I swore I’d never be that selfish again. Plus I’d be letting down readers who want to hear from me or ask me questions, and I know too much about the fresh hell some of them are already facing.” She ran her hands through her hair once more, shaking her head. “It’s been a shitty evening, but I’ll bounce back tomorrow and finish the tour. Logan will be with me in Chicago, and Todd won’t make any more surprise appearances. Besides, if I quit now, that jerk gets the best of me again, and I can’t let that happen.”

  Mitch stood and hugged her, smoothing his hand over the back of her head. “I’m sorry Todd hurt you so much. But, honestly, there’s a silver lining—or I think so, anyway. I’m grateful he turned out to be the wrong guy, otherwise you wouldn’t be here with me now. We are just at the beginning of this, but I’m all in.” He kissed her, but she cut it short. His heart absorbed the blow of her rejection even as he saw her eyes cloud with conflict.

  “I love that you’re looking for the silver lining. But look at what an effing mess I am. This is why I made you promise we’d take things slow.” She cupped his cheek. “Please don’t take this personally, but I think I should go home tonight. We’ll celebrate when my head is clearer. If I hurry, I can catch a train—”

  “That’s crazy. You won’t get home until after midnight, and you shouldn’t be alone on a train for two hours right now. We don’t have to talk any more tonight. If you’re tired, let’s go to sleep. See how you feel tomorrow.”

  “You have to get up early for work in the morning, so you don’t need me keeping you awake all night with my tossing and turning.” For an instant, her expression pinched. He had no idea what she’d thought about, but she didn’t want to share it. “I’ve got things to do in Connecticut tomorrow, too, so let’s call it a night and I’ll come back Friday.”

  “You’re leaving for Chicago on Friday morning.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” She was already on the move, reaching for the purse she’d left on the sofa table. She offered him a weak smile. “I’ll come here straight from the airport on Saturday afternoon, and we’ll do something fun. Maybe we can hit Union Square Greenmarket and then come here and cook a great meal.”

  No matter what she’d said, he could feel her slipping away. “I don’t want to put you on a train at this hour.”

  “I’ll order a car service.” She pulled out her phone.

  He approached her and clasped her arms. “That’ll cost a fortune.”

  “That’s not a problem.”

  He dropped his hands. “You really want to get away from me.”

  The instant that slipped out, he regretted it. He should’ve heeded Logan’s warnings.

  “This isn’t about you, Mitch. I need to regroup, and I don’t want to burden you with my crap when you’ve got enough on your plate.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, determined.

  “But I want to help you with your stuff, Peyton. Wouldn’t you want to help me if our roles were reversed?”

  “I doubt our roles will ever be reversed. You’re always on top of everything with your goals and plans. You know exactly where you want to go. Please let me work out my stuff on my own so I can be your equal.”

  “You’re already my equal.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I don’t see myself that way . . . That’s the point.”

  They stared at each other from a distance. His apartment seemed colder and darker than when they’d arrived.

  “I can’t argue anymore.” He shook his head. “I wish you’d stay, but I won’t trap you here.”

  “Thank you.” She hugged him before grabbing his face and giving him a sweet kiss. “Thank you for trying so hard, and for being patient. I appreciate it more than you know.”

  Five minutes later, she was gone, and it was his turn to stand at his window, staring at the vast city, trying to mute his mother’s voice in his head.

  When Peyton crept into Arcadia House through the back door at midnight, she didn’t expect to bump into her father, who’d just closed the refrigerator door.

  His eyes widened while he pulled the lid off a yogurt cup. “What are you doing home?”

  “I decided to sleep here tonight.” When he stared at her, waiting for a complete explanation, she hedged, offering part of one. “I have my checkup tomorrow afternoon and thought it’d be easier not to have to race back in the morning.”

  Her dad gave her that doubting look she hated. “I thought you and Mitch would be celebrating. Did you argue with or run from him because of Todd?”

  She tossed her purse on the table. “Not the way you and Mitch think.”

  “What other way is there?” He spooned some yogurt into his mouth, leaning back against the counter.

  He wanted answers, but how could she explain the jumbled thoughts in her head? Todd the wrecking ball had returned to knock down the life she’d reconstructed for herself. But even prior to that, her blood had run a little cold when she’d overheard Jane Mathis warn her son not to date the cancer patient. The one-two punch of those things seemed like a harbinger of doom. “Dad, I’m so tired. Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. I’m sorry you’re upset. I was very proud of you and Logan tonight. I think Duck would’ve been, too.” He set his empty yogurt cup down and came around the island to give her a hug. “Get some sleep and don’t give a second thought to Todd or tomorrow’s appointment. You’ve always been a little warrior. Everything will be okay.”

  She inhaled the bergamot-scented cologne he’d worn forever, wishing she shared his confidence. Life had been so much easier when she’d been young and believed that he was always right abo
ut everything. Now she knew how often adults got it wrong.

  Moments later, when she finally crawled beneath the covers, she pictured Mitch, alone in his bed, wondering what he’d done wrong. She’d hurt him by leaving, but she believed it for the best for now. That didn’t mean her heart didn’t ache, though. She picked up her phone and texted:

  Got home safely. My cold pillow is a poor substitute for your warmth. Hope you are having sweet dreams. XO

  Peyton sat on the exam table, fidgeting with the paper gown. She closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing her biceps to get rid of the goose bumps, although no amount of friction could overcome the icy temperature in the room. It seemed impossible that she couldn’t see her own breath.

  “Come in,” she replied when someone knocked on the door.

  Dr. Wang entered, staid as ever. She pulled out the circular stool on wheels and sat. “Hello, Peyton, how have you been?”

  “Fine.” Peyton smiled to no avail. Dr. Wang never smiled back. Not once in all the times they’d spoken had the woman smiled. Stiff bedside manner aside, the fact that she was one of the best oncologists in the hospital meant Peyton would put up with her cool demeanor. “A little anxious.”

  “Anxious? Have you been experiencing concerning symptoms?” Dr. Wang read through something in Peyton’s file without making eye contact.

  “Not really.” She noticed her dangling feet fluttering, so she locked her ankles together. Her shoulders tensed. “Seems my new normal is living with a sort of general anxiety, like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Since I last saw you, I’ve lost some weight for no reason and haven’t been sleeping great these past several weeks.”

  Dr. Wang looked up, wearing a concerned frown. “Have you been under particular stress, or has anything else happened that could cause those symptoms?”

  “Well, I’ve been traveling around Europe. Of course, I used to do that all the time with no trouble. Then again, promoting my memoir has been very stressful. I suppose jet lag has affected my sleep.” She left out the “should I or shouldn’t I” melodrama with Mitch that had kept her up many nights last month, too.

  Dr. Wang nodded. “Your blood work doesn’t reveal any concerning levels, and your weight loss isn’t a surprise given that schedule, but let’s go ahead and finish the exam. Lie back and untie the gown.”

  While Peyton reclined, Dr. Wang set down her chart and washed her hands. Without any fanfare, the doctor began a thorough breast exam, her chilly, bony fingers starting on Peyton’s left breast.

  Peyton stared at the ceiling, having become quite accustomed to the clinical fondling of her foobs. She hummed to herself an old John Denver song that she and Logan used to mock when they were little. They’d been so pleased by their own cleverness back then. The memory of Logan yelping those words as he flung himself off the dock at Arcadia brought a smile to her face.

  That happiness vanished when Dr. Wang said, “Hm.”

  Was anything more terrifying than when a doctor muttered that sound?

  The doctor’s expression tightened as she fixated on a spot near the scar on Peyton’s right breast.

  “What is it?” Peyton had to work at lying still when all she wanted to do was leap off the table and scream.

  “I’m not sure.” Dr. Wang palpated the same spot again. “Do you do regular self- exams?”

  Peyton shook her head. In fact, she’d avoided them, partly out of fear—which wasn’t that uncommon, if her chat room friends were to be believed—and partly because she had no breast tissue left and had assumed any new cancer would show up elsewhere.

  “So we don’t know how long this has been here or if it’s changed size.” She pushed on the spot again.

  “How long what has been there?” Peyton’s hands were now fists at her side.

  “There is a small lump. I don’t want you to panic, though. It could be a bit of scar tissue, or the calcified soft-tissue remnant of a small seroma that got reabsorbed, or a lipoma, but let’s get an MRI right away.”

  “No biopsy?”

  “First we need an MRI to see it better, then we will take next steps.”

  Peyton gripped her stomach, her shallow breaths coming faster.

  Dr. Wang touched her shoulder. “I know that sounds scary, but there is a very good chance that it is nothing threatening, so try not to panic.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Peyton snapped, although she knew it wasn’t Dr. Wang’s fault. She should’ve been doing regular breast exams. What a stupid way she’d gone about her life, thinking that avoiding a problem would prevent it from happening. She’d teased Mitch for being like Optimus, but that beat being an ostrich like her.

  Dr. Wang wrote out a prescription for the MRI. “Get this imaging done and then we’ll regroup. If it isn’t scar tissue, we’ll need your surgeon to remove it and take a biopsy. I know it must sound like forever, but within a week to ten days we’ll know whether or not we need to do anything further.”

  Peyton nodded, dabbing her tears.

  Dr. Wang clasped Peyton’s chart to her chest. “Peyton, stay positive and keep busy. Stress is not your friend when it comes to your health. I’ll speak with you soon.”

  Peyton waited for Dr. Wang to exit the room before she bundled up her jeans, pressed them to her mouth, and screamed. Not once, but twice, and she didn’t care if the pants didn’t muffle her voice well.

  She could not imagine going through chemo or radiation or any of the poking and prodding and sickness again. Last time she’d relied on Logan, but she didn’t want to ruin his upcoming wedding. Could she hide it all from her family?

  And then there was Mitch. He’d already gone through this and worse with his dad. It didn’t matter that he’d sworn he wouldn’t be like Todd; she couldn’t ask him to be her person through treatment. To watch her suffer, lose her hair, and maybe this time not recover.

  Her head ached from the panicked thoughts.

  Trembling hands made getting dressed a struggle. Her temple seemed to be pulsing with her heart, and her field of vision narrowed. On her way out of the office, she ducked into a restroom and retched what little she’d eaten for breakfast.

  After gargling cold water, she looked in the mirror. Pull it together, girl. She smoothed her hair and reapplied lip gloss. Before she reached her car, she’d scheduled an MRI for Monday. She sat behind the wheel, waiting for the last bits of adrenaline or whatever to ebb so she could get home safely. Once the shivers stopped, she turned over the ignition.

  With little memory of the drive, all she could think about as the tires ground over the pea stone gravel was how thankful she was that neither of her parents’ cars were anywhere on the property.

  She leaped from her car, kicked off her shoes at the edge of the yard, and ran down the dry lawn to the dock.

  BreatheBreathe. Breathe!

  A gull flew overhead as summer breezes blew her hair around her face.

  Why now? That thought looped through her mind, fastening itself there like an ugly black button. After everything she’d put into becoming a better person . . . Why now?

  A surge of acid tore through her stomach. How could it be fair that Todd remained healthy enough to continue wrecking lives? Each time his image resurfaced in her memory, it reminded her of her own selfish stupidity.

  A hoarse cry of frustration and self-pity burst from her throat, echoing off the Sound.

  Depleted, she collapsed against the wooden bench where she and Mitch had sat last weekend. That already seemed like a lifetime ago, although her sheets still smelled a bit like him. What cruel twist of fate handed her a second chance at something like love only to then surprise her with yet another lump?

  She should’ve fought her feelings for him instead of chasing silver linings and the fantasy of happily ever after. She caressed her right breast, but Dr. Wang’s words didn’t comfort her. Last time she’d remained hopeful—almost to the point of denial—until the pathology report slammed her against the wall. This time she knew
to expect the worst.

  Just once before she died, she had to be completely unselfish. Cutting Mitch loose would be the least selfish thing to do, even if it crushed her.

  She wiped her eyes and dug her phone out of her purse before she lost her nerve.

  “Hey.” His voice pitched up like he was pleased to hear from her, making her heart twinge even more. “I was going to call soon. Are you feeling clearheaded?”

  “Somewhat.” She bit down on her lower lip and closed her eyes. Around her, the Sound looked muddy gray except for the tiny whitecaps formed by the wind. Breathe.

  “Why don’t you come down tonight so you don’t have to wake up as early to catch your morning flight? I’ll cook something nice.”

  “Ever thoughtful and efficient, my dear Optimus.” She smiled, picturing him in his apartment kitchen, wearing an apron and sautéing.

  He chuckled, but she could hear the edge of nervousness through the line. Mitch wasn’t stupid. He suspected he’d skated onto thin ice.

  He’d fight to stay with her, so she had to throw him off in a way that he wouldn’t want her anymore. She pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the sniffles. If she thought this was hard, she’d have to work double time to hide her worries from Logan. Her brother’s eyes caught everything, which made him a great photographer and a terrific snoop. “That sounds nice, but I don’t think I should.”

  “Why not?”

  She closed her eyes, her heart twisting in a knot. “I’ve been thinking . . .”

  “Doesn’t sound like I’m going to like what comes next.” His voice sounded like it came from someplace deep in his chest.

  “Probably not.” A breeze whipped around her neck, making her shiver. She turned in to the corner of the bench, hugging her knees to her chest. “You have no idea how sorry I am to say this, but I think we jumped into an intimate relationship too soon. Not only because of the book stuff, but because I’ve still got so much baggage to unpack.”

  “I’ll help you work through things if you’ll let me.”

  “I know, and you’re wonderful to offer, but I already explained why I need to do it on my own.” If I’m even around long enough to finish the job.