by Sherri Renee
I wondered if Dad would call to check on me. I forced my thoughts from him. That was just more stress I didn’t need in my life right now. If Dad wanted out of my life, I needed to let him go. It hurt too much to keep wondering if he would ever come back.
Dr. Reynolds had run a few tests, and so far, things didn’t sound too bad, but he was still waiting on some results. I was starting to think I’d overreacted when I’d felt the tightness in my chest, but in my situation, I didn’t really have a choice.
If I had an aneurysm, my best chance for survival would be at the hospital. Thankfully, that hadn’t been the case this time. But it was a good reminder that my expiration date was growing closer by the day.
And that wasn’t a calming thought at all. Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath and pictured a perfect, sunny day and blue waves as far as the eye could see.
A knock startled me out of my happy place, and my eyes flew open to find Lucas framed in the partially open doorway.
I jerked up in bed, and my jaw dropped. Lucas looked back at me with a tight, uncomfortable expression before glancing nervously around the room. I couldn’t believe he was there. How had he even known where I was?
“What are you doing here? Weren’t you and Brianna on a date or something?” The words were out of my mouth before I knew I was going to say them.
At Lucas’s confused look, I wished more than anything I could take them back. Jealousy had ended me up in this bed. I would not let it steal another day from me, no matter how long I had left.
Lucas ignored my questions. “Can I come in? Ginger said it would be okay, but—” His voice trailed off, and I heard his confusion. Hospitals could be scary places, whether you were the patient or not.
Now that the shock of him being there was starting to wear off a little bit, I realized it was nice of Lucas to come—even if I didn’t understand why he had.
“You can come in.” I nodded toward the chair closest to the bed. “Have a seat.”
I arranged my hospital gown and pulled the sheet up to my chest. I knew I looked a mess, but there wasn’t much that could be done about it.
Lucas sat on the edge of the chair and rested his arms on his thighs, clasping his hands as he leaned close. “How are you?” he asked, searching my face as if trying to find the answer in my appearance.
“My favorite question.” I added a faint smile and looked away.
His finger touched my jaw, gently urging me to face him. I did and found worry and fear in his eyes. Yep, that was exactly what I did not want, someone who cared about me enough that my illness caused them pain.
“Tell me,” he said in a gentle voice that warmed me to my soul.
I swallowed. “None of my veins exploded, so I guess I’m not doing too bad,” I tried to joke. Dr. Reynolds suspected I might have another autoimmune disease coming to life in my body. If he was right, it would make my prognosis that much worse, but Lucas didn’t need to know that.
Lucas clenched his jaw and dropped his hand from my cheek. He lowered his eyes. “Ginger said you were at Luigi’s earlier.” The words hung like a question.
My stomach tightened, and I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was going. He’d explain that he and Brianna were back together, and he was sorry I found out the way I had.
I wasn’t in the mood to hide my feelings, but I sure didn’t want him to see them either. I knew I had no right to be mad at him or even hurt. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t both.
My favorite nurse, Janice, poked her head around the doorway. “You’ll need to keep your visit short. Madison needs her rest.”
Lucas nodded and stood. “I should be going.” Janice nodded her approval before she disappeared. I watched several emotions skitter across Lucas’s face before he bent and surprised me with a kiss on the cheek.
“Brianna and I are over.” His voice was a faint whisper near my ear, but his words were clear. “She just hasn’t accepted it yet.”
My eyes widened. I wasn’t sure why he was telling me that, or how I should respond. Congratulations? I’m sorry to hear that. Does that mean you do like me? All of those sounded so lame. I finally murmured, “Okay,” while I scrunched the sheet between my fingers.
The faint smile that brightened his face caused me to catch my breath. “Can I call you later?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted him to call me. I wanted him to stay longer now, but what would be the purpose? If Dr. Reynolds was right, my future was being cut even shorter. I couldn’t let Lucas into my life just to die on him. I liked him too much for that.
If I wasn’t willing to let him in my life, I had no businesses letting him call me. I had no business leading him on at all. And boy, did that hurt.
My heart strained against my ribs again, but this time I was certain the pain was just an emotional reaction.
Somehow I forced myself to shake my head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Lucas’s brows rose, and he took a step back. “Oh, okay.” He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced to the side. “I guess I’d better go then.” His eyes met mine. “I’ll see you around.”
Words rushed up my throat to beg him to stay, but I clamped my lips firmly together and watched him walk to the door. “Lucas?” I said before he went out. He hesitated in the doorway. His shoulders rose and fell, and I was afraid he would ignore me, but after an agonizing second, he glanced back.
“You can do so much better than Brianna.” My lips tipped in a hint of a smile. Lucas stared at me so intently it felt like he was trying to see past my words and read my thoughts.
The moment dragged out. Just before it became uncomfortable, Lucas smiled back at me. My heart pounded around in my chest at his bittersweet look. Lucas kept his eyes on me for a full minute.
I almost thought he would come back in and force some answers from me, but as his smile fell, he whispered, “Bye, Maddie.” Then he turned and left.
Chapter 24
I released a huge breath and sank deeper into the thin hospital pillow, pushing a hand against my throbbing heart. Oh, wow, that hurt. I was doing the right thing, though, wasn’t I? If letting Lucas go now, before we even had a real relationship, was that painful, what would it be like if I let things grow between us and then something happened?
Much worse, I decided. Much, much worse. But still, it all sucked. The guy of my dreams liked me, and I couldn’t even give him a chance.
Tears burned my eyes. I’d tried hard not to wallow in self-pity since my diagnosis, but this sucked. Everything sucked. I’d finally decided to step out of my comfort zone and live, and now I was dying sooner than expected.
I knew it was just the pity talking, but I almost wished I would just go now. What was the use of being here if all I was doing was waiting for death?
“Maddie?” I opened my eyes. Dr. Reynolds briskly walked into the room, wearing his white coat and carrying my chart. His brows bunched over his eyes, almost meeting in the middle. His lips curved in a smile, but it didn’t touch the worry covering the rest of his face.
I didn’t even try to return his smile. He must have the rest of the results back, and from his expression, they couldn’t be good.
“What’s the word, Doc?” I prodded, hoping he’d cut right to the chase. If my time was being cut even shorter by a new autoimmune attack, I didn’t want to waste it mincing words.
He met my eyes and ran a hand over his mouth while my stomach knotted with nerves. “The results are negative,” he finally said.
I couldn’t reconcile his expression with his words. If my results were negative, that meant I was okay. That was great news. So why didn’t he look happy?
“And?” I asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He glanced at the chart again and shook his head. My stomach flipped. He was hesitating. That could only mean bad news, but I couldn’t even imagine what. I did have a vein explode, and I was bleeding out internally? I’d picked up an incurabl
e disease totally unrelated to my autoimmunity. Oh, my gosh. I had cancer!
I rubbed my eyes and wished I’d gone ahead and kissed Lucas when I’d had the chance. What difference did a few little germs make if I was dying anyway? Ginger was right. I should have stolen every precious moment I could have. And yet I’d done the “right” thing and pushed Lucas away.
My stomach flipped again, and now my heart raced. I couldn’t stand the suspense. As concerned as the doc looked, I was starting to think I was down to my last hours. I needed to call my mom and tell her maybe she should rush after all. And Ginger. Ginger wouldn’t take the news well, but she needed to know. I swallowed and pinched my lips together as they started to tremble. Now might be the time for me to call Dad.
My chest burned and my mind flew over worst case scenarios. I’d always known my end could come unexpectedly, but it was one thing it mentally know that fact, and another to stare it in the face.
As much as I’d tried to prepare myself for this moment, I’d failed miserably. I wasn’t ready. I so wasn’t ready. I rubbed a hand over my mouth.
“Just tell me, Doc,” I said when I couldn’t take it any longer. I’d wasted almost a year of my life. I didn’t want to wait another second.
Dr. Reynolds looked up and focused on me. He must have seen the fear on my face because he hurried to reassure me. “My news isn’t bad,” he said, shaking his head again. “It’s just. . . confusing.”
If my doctor was confused, it couldn’t be good news, and yet he’d said it wasn’t bad.
I braced myself. “Is it my heart? An aneurysm? Will I ever leave this hospital?”
“Maddie, no. It’s not that at all. Actually, your heart is fine. It’s your autoimmunity readings.” I stared at him, willing him to get the words out and end my suspense. “Your markers have decreased,” he finally said.
He blinked at me while I blinked back at him. “Maddie, do you know what that means?”
I did, but I couldn’t believe it, so I shook my head no. “It means you don’t appear to be progressing at the moment. Even more than that, it looks as if you’re getting better.“
My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked again. I’d heard him, and fully understood what he said, but it was like I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I’d been prepared for a death sentence, and now he was offering me. . . life?
A hundred different emotions flew through me, and I grabbed the cool sheet in both hands and wadded it up tight. “I’m getting better?” I was scared to voice the word. I’d been progressively getting worse at every checkup since my initial diagnosis. To have even a slight improvement had to be a good thing.
Dr. Reynolds’ expression grew graver. “I don’t want you to get too excited. I can’t tell you that you’re getting better.” A smile peeked through his firm facade. “But it appears you may be in remission. We’ll have to run more tests, and you’ll still need to take your prescriptions.” He leaned his hip against the bed and crossed his arms, smiling fully now. “But Maddie, I think you’re going to make it through this.”
A sob clogged my throat, and tears burned my eyes. I forgot all about my no crying in public rule, and tears trailed down my cheeks. I could barely comprehend what he was telling me. This was the moment I’d dreamed of for the past eight months, but I’d never let myself believe it would truly come. And yet, here it was. The news I’d prayed for but hadn’t allowed myself to expect. I was in remission.
“What about my heart?” I choked out, placing a hand on my chest. The strange pain I’d felt was the reason I was here, after all.
“Indigestion.” Dr. Reynolds looked like he was holding back a laugh.
“Indigestion?” I squeaked, feeling my face heat as my eyes widened. “I’m here because I had to burp?”
Dr. Reynolds did laugh then. “It happens to the best of them. I can’t tell you how many people show up in the ER thinking they’re having a heart attack when all they need is a Tums.”
So, it was kind of mortifying that I’d rushed to the hospital, thinking I was dying when I just had indigestion, but I was so happy about the rest of his news I laughed along with him.
Dr. Reynolds squeezed my shoulder before sobering again. “Autoimmune issues are tricky,” he said, and I felt some of my elation fall. “Even if you are in remission now, there’s no guarantee you’ll stay that way. I’ll want to continue to keep a close eye on you.”
I nodded. I knew that from the research I’d done on my own. “But, I’ll at least have more time.”
“Yes,” he said with a fresh smile. “You should have more time. I want to keep your treatment as it is for now. We’ll modify it as things progress. Now, I know you’ll want to tell your parents the good news. Please tell them to call me if they have any questions.”
Since I was eighteen, I was considered an adult when it came to health care, so I’d had to sign a waiver allowing Dr. Reynolds to talk to my parents about my condition. I was thankful they were involved in my treatment, and I was thankful to have such a caring doctor.
“Thank you, Dr. Reynolds. I never really expected to hear that news.” I swiped at the tears on my cheeks. “But I’m sure I’m getting better thanks to you.”
“Oh, well.” It looked like I’d flustered my doctor, and he changed the subject. “If you feel up to it, you’re free to go home.” He glanced around the generic room. “No sense in you spending the night in this boring old place if you don’t have to.”
I nodded, unsure how I felt but ready to be out of the hospital. “I’d love to go home tonight. Just let me get changed.”
“The nurse will be in with your discharge paperwork soon.” Then, almost like Lucas had done, Dr. Reynolds surprised me by leaning down and kissing the top of my head. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you, Maddie.”
“That makes two of us.” I added a watery laugh, and a few fresh tears escaped as I waved while he shot me another happy grin before he left.
I texted Mom first and told her I’d be home soon, and not to come to the hospital. Then I slid from the bed and changed clothes, ready to head home as soon as I was released.
Sitting on the chair Lucas had vacated earlier, I waited for the nurse to bring the paperwork while my thoughts buzzed like happy little bees. I was in remission. Hallelujah! I wondered if a certain pill I’d been taking had helped or Mom’s vitamins and gallons of juice. And then I realized I didn’t care. I was a normal teen again, at least for now.
I’d promised myself if this day ever came, though I’d never really expected it to, I would start living life to the fullest. And that, of course, drew my thoughts to Lucas. I’d just totally blown him off. I slouched in the chair. Would it be fair to chase after him now and tell him I’d changed my mind? I could tell him about the remission. He’d understand, but would he still be interested?
Chapter 25
I’d barely stepped through the front door when Mom had her arms wrapped around me. “Maddie! Oh, Maddie.” She rocked us from side to side, sniffling and stroking my hair. “You beat it. You’re going to be okay.”
Those words should have filled me with as much joy as they did her, but instead, they formed into a solid lump in my stomach. Cold and slimy enough to make me nauseous. I wiggled back. Mom kept her hands on my arms, smiling at me with tears shining in her eyes.
“You know the switch could flip back at any time. I don’t know if we should get too excited yet.” I wanted her to argue with me and tell me that in all her research, she’d found cases where once the autoimmune switch flipped off, it could never be turned back on. But she didn’t.
Her smile fell, and she drew in her lips. I felt terrible. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a joy-sucker,” I said. “I’m just scared to hope, you know?” It was hard to admit that, but I was mentally and physically exhausted. I needed to lean on her. I wanted to be a little girl and crawl on her lap and let her stroke my hair until the world was a better place.
Almost as if reading my mind,
she reached up and ran her hand down my hair before cupping my cheek. “I know it’s scary, Maddie. Living, truly living always is.”
Humph. That was something to think about. I’d been focused on dying for so long, I’d almost forgotten how to live. And the tiny step I’d taken into it earlier by going to Luigi’s had been a disaster.
“Let’s go into the kitchen.” Mom took my hand and led me behind her. She hadn’t done that since I was a little girl. It almost felt like I was getting a do-over. I hoped I wouldn’t mess up my second chance. There were no promises that I’d get a third one.
“I made some stew with extra veggies. How do you feel? Are you up for a bowl?” Mom was already pulling bowls out of the cupboard as I set my purse on the granite counter.
“Stew sounds great. I’m starving.” I noticed how quiet it was and glanced around. “Where are the boys?”
“Oh,” Mom said, ladling stew into two bowls, “Your dad went ahead and picked them up after we got the good news. He thought we might want some alone time to celebrate.” My heart fell. It had been so long since I’d seen Dad. I missed him.
Mom beamed at me, setting the steaming bowls of stew on the table. “We need to do something amazing to celebrate,” she said. I grabbed spoons and napkins while she got us glasses of water, and we both sat down.
The table for five seemed too big without the boys and Dad there. I blew on my stew and took a bite. “This is delicious. I was so hungry.”
“I’m glad you like it. Dr. Reynolds said you’ll have to take it easy for a while as he weans you off your prescriptions, but after that, we need to have a party. Something huge. We’ll invite all your friends.” Mom was bubbling with excitement.
I snorted. “That’s going to be a tiny party. It will be Ginger, the boys, you—and Dad, if he wants to come.”
