Page 18

Part 9

“Easy on Me”

June

My eyes open and I am momentarily confused as to where I am. The bright lights overhead and beeping machines around me tell me I’m in the hospital, which means my surgery must be over. Here I am in a hospital bed with scratchy sheets and one of those delightfully breezy gowns everyone loves.

My body feels stiff, as if I haven’t moved in days, even though it’s only been a few hours. I shift slightly and feel pain rocket through my chest. A whine escapes my lips.

Abby’s face comes into view on my right. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

My throat feels like I gargled with sand, but I manage to croak out, “Okay, I guess. Thirsty.”

“Here’s some water,” Roddy says, appearing on the other side of the bed with a plastic cup complete with a bendy straw. “The surgeon said everything went really well.”

I take a couple small sips of the water. “They got it all out?”

Roddy nods. “They think so. It will take a little bit for the full pathology to come back, she said, but she’s pretty sure the margins are clear.”

I give what I hope is a smile, but I can already feel the drowsiness threatening to overtake me again. “What about the lymph nodes?”

Abby answers this time, “They had to take eight, which was more than they expected.”

“So, chemo then,” I sigh.

“Most likely,” Abby replies, putting her hand on my shoulder. “But they haven’t gotten the final pathology, as Roddy said, so there’s a small chance not.”

“Dr. Dayal said she’d come by before they discharge you, so you can hear it all from her,” Roddy adds. “The main thing now is that you’re through surgery and the cancer is out.”

“Yes, the cancer is out,” I repeat, drifting back off to sleep.

* * *

“Please fasten your safety belt, ma’am,” the flight attendant said. “We’re about to take off.”

Uncertain where I was, I looked around and saw I was sitting in a private jet. Sitting next to me was the faceless man. He reached up to take a warm towel from the flight attendant. I managed to buckle my seat belt and took my own warm towel from her. Not entirely sure what to do with it, I wiped my hands with it and placed it back on her tray.

“Are you ready?” the faceless man asked.

“Yes,” I said, tentatively. I wasn’t sure whether he just meant ready for the plane to take off or for something beyond that.

Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Just relax. You’ll know where we’re going soon enough.”

The rest of the flight sped by in a blur, and soon we were landing. As we exited the plane, I saw a black limousine waiting for us. The driver opened the door, and we got in. Once the limo was under way, the faceless man pulled two champagne flutes and a bottle from the mini-fridge, and poured us both a glass of champagne.

“To us,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.

“To us,” I repeated. “So, you really aren’t going to tell me where we are?”

“I’m really not.”

Just as with the flight, the limo ride went by very quickly. The door opened and I saw glimpses of Times Square. My jaw dropped open. “We’re in New York City?”

He laughed. “Yes. Right in front of Richard Rodgers Theatre to be exact.”

“And we’re going to a show?” I could hardly contain my excitement.

“We are.”

He took my hand and led me into the theater. He grabbed a Playbill , but wouldn’t let me see it until we sat down. We were in one of those private boxes to the side of the stage and I felt like I was going to burst with joy. I managed to snatch the program from him and found out that we were going to see The Sound of Music starring none other than Dame Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer, along with the entire original cast of the movie.

I turned to him and tears flooded out of my eyes. “You remembered.”

“So these are tears of joy?”

“Most definitely.”

We held hands throughout the play, which is also a bit of a blur. Once it was over, he led me outside and we walked to Central Park. He sat me down on the edge of the Bethesda Fountain and took my left hand in both of his.

“Clare,” he began, getting down on one knee, “will you marry me?”

* * *

The dream is so vivid this time, I fully expect to wake up in Central Park. But I’m here in my own bed at Abby’s, propped up on a wedge pillow Nate let me borrow. I’m not a back sleeper, so I was hoping this would help keep me from rolling onto my side while I’m healing from the surgery. It worked this time, probably because the anesthesia is still in my system. Tonight will be the true test.

I attempt to stretch but realize quickly that is a bad idea as everything from my chest to my shoulders to my arms hurts. It feels like I’ve been in a fight or done some really heavy weightlifting. Yeah, right, the most I can do is five pounds. Or…could…before all this.

“Uhnnh,” I groan as I relax back down into the wedge pillow.

“Hey,” Roddy says from my mother’s old rocking chair in the corner. He gets up and walks around the bed to stand beside me. “How’re you doing?”

With no idea how to answer that question, I simply say, “It hurts.”

“You’re overdue for a pain pill, but Abby and I thought it best to let you sleep. Let me go get one and some water.” Before he does, he pushes the hair from my face and gives me a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

I would like to sit up before he gets back, but I’m not sure if I can manage it by myself. I try swinging my legs over to the side of the bed, but they only move a couple of inches. Then, I press my hands into the bed to see if I can push myself up, but the only thing I get is more pain. I do manage to throw the covers back to make sure I’m at least dressed, since everything after the hospital is a blur. I’m wearing my Winnie the Pooh pajamas. Pulling the neck of the shirt up, I see the compression bra they sent me home in from the hospital. It’s stuffed with gauze, and I can’t take it off for a couple days. That’s perfectly fine with me because I’m not sure how much I want to see what it all looks like.

Roddy comes back in and sees the pitiful attempt I’ve made to get up. “Here, let me help.” He puts down the pill and the water on my nightstand, then puts his arm around my back to help me sit up. From there, I’m able to turn and sit on the side of the bed.

“Thanks,” I say. I take the pill he offers and swallow it with a big gulp of water. “What time is it?”

He checks his watch. “About three-thirty. Are you hungry?”

“A little,” I reply. “Like, maybe just a snack or something.”

“I think we can handle that.” He grins.

After some effort on his part—because I’m still pretty unsteady on my feet from the drugs—I’m sitting on the sofa in the living room and Abby’s handing me a tray with various snack options.

“Alright, you’ve got your run-of-the-mill saltines, if you’re feeling nauseated from the anesthesia. Then, there’s a banana for some fruit. A tiny bit of cheese if you’re feeling good. And, if you’re feeling really, really good, there’s a couple chocolate truffles,” she says, pointing to each thing in turn as if I’ve never seen any of these foods before.

I smile up at her. “Thank you, Abby.”

“You’re welcome. Now, do you need anything else? Would you like the ice packs?” She’s hovering around me like a mother hen, and I’d like to tell her to calm down, but I appreciate everything she’s doing to make me feel better.

“The ice packs would probably be good, but let me try eating something first.” I’ve got that feeling of either being really hungry because I haven’t had anything but fluids since last night or nausea from the anesthesia, and I can’t tell which quite yet. I peel the banana and take a small bite. It goes down well, and I try another. So far so good, but I take things slowly. As much as I love cheese and chocolate, I think those are going to have to wait until later. Banana and saltines it is.

Roddy sets a glass of herbal tea on the end table along with a glass of juice. “I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer, but I thought something other than water might be nice.”

I’m reminded of our first “date” in the coffee house where he brought me the tea and hot cocoa. Seems like he thinks I can’t decide on just one beverage at a time. Does he think just because I’m bisexual that I need multiple drink choices at all times? Come to think of it, maybe there’s something to that.

He sits down next to me as I continue eating, and I notice he and Abby keep staring at me. I use the napkin to brush any food off my face, but they’re still staring.

“Guys, is something wrong?” I ask.

Abby shakes her head. “No. Sorry, I didn’t realize I was staring. Just thinking about how glad I am that you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Roddy adds, tenderly rubbing my back.

“Well, it’s creeping me out. Please stop staring at me like I’m going to break apart,” I request. “I feel okay—as long as I’m not moving around too much. I appreciate the concern and everything you’re doing, but really, I’m okay.”

They both nod apologetically.

“How about we watch some Bake Off?” Roddy asks.

“That would be wonderful,” I say. I reach for the remote on the end table, but in an effort not to knock over my beverages, I fumble the remote onto the floor. “Oops!”

“I’ll get it!” both Abby and Roddy say, but Roddy is closer and faster to that side of the couch.

He kneels down on the floor and when he goes to hand me the remote, he’s offering it to me on one knee. Suddenly, I can’t catch my breath and my eyes can’t seem to focus. My heartbeat pounds in my swollen breasts and my ears are full of static. The faceless man just proposed in the dream today, and here Roddy is down on one knee. Does this mean anything or am I insane? I take some slow, deep breaths to calm myself down and, thankfully, the panic attack is short-lived. But I see the grin on Roddy’s face melt away to concern.

“I’m okay,” I lie. “I just overstretched and had a little pain is all.”

He makes his way back to the couch again and puts his arm around my back. “Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”

“Yeah, Clare, you do look a bit off. Maybe you should go lie down,” Abby adds.

“Gee, thanks.” I shake my head. “I promise, I’m fine. But maybe those ice packs would be good before we get involved in the show.”

“On it!” Abby exclaims, already on her way to the kitchen.

After putting the ice packs in the compression bra—very carefully—I lean back on the couch and take a sip of the juice while Roddy hits play on the next episode.

I get a text while the contestants are presenting their signature Cornish pasties and I see that it’s from Nate’s sister, Sophia, who lives in Charlotte.

Sophia: Nate mentioned you were having surgery today.

Sophia: I thought I’d check in to see how you were doing.

Clare: I’m doing okay. Still pretty loopy from the drugs.

Sophia: I’m sure. Glad to hear you’re doing okay.

Sophia: I did send you a couple eBooks I enjoyed to give you something fun to read.

Clare: That’s sweet! I look forward to reading them.

Sophia: If you need anything, let me know.

Clare: Thanks for checking in. 3

Sophia: Anytime. Take care of yourself!

“Who was that?” Abby asks when I put my phone down.

“Sophia,” I reply, then add for Roddy’s benefit, “Nate’s sister. She was just checking to see how I was doing. She said she sent over a couple eBooks as well.”

“She’s so sweet,” Abby says. “I wish she lived here so we could see her more often.”

“Where does she live?” Roddy asks.

“Charlotte,” Abby and I say in unison.

“Ah,” he replies.

We watch a few more episodes of Bake Off until I’m too exhausted to stay awake anymore, but I still feel them both eyeing me from time to time.

* * *

Since I’m already in my pajamas, that makes getting ready for bed much easier. Abby went to her room to read, and it’s just Roddy and me. He escorts me into my room, and I complete my nightly rituals while he waits patiently in the chair. I’m really torn because I desperately want to ask him to stay with me so I’m not alone my first night after surgery—even though Abby’s not far away—and not appearing like a hypocrite since I kept going on about how fine I am all afternoon. I resolve to put on my big-girl panties and spend the night alone when I come out of the bathroom.

Roddy is busy typing something on his phone but looks up when I enter the room. “All good?”

“Yep. Pain pill taken and all ready for bed,” I reply.

“So, I was thinking…” he begins at the same time I start to say, “Thanks so much…”

We both laugh. I gesture for him to go first.

“I was just thinking that if you wanted me to, I could…you know…stay tonight. You know, if you wanted,” he stammers. Then adds, “No funny business. I could sleep on the floor.”

“You don’t need to sleep on the floor. I think my queen bed should be big enough for both of us.” I smile and wonder if he knows this was what I wanted him to say. “But you don’t have to if you have somewhere else to be.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere but here, with you,” he says and my heart melts.

“Full disclosure,” I begin in a half-whisper, “I haven’t…uh…haven’t slept with anyone but Suz.”

He tilts his head. “That’s understandable. You haven’t been broken up that long. I mean, we hadn’t really defined anything until recently, but I didn’t think you were dating anyone else.”

Realizing his misunderstanding, I am torn with whether to correct him or not. On the one hand, it’s not a lie that I haven’t slept with anyone since Suz, but that doesn’t get to the root of what I meant. I did say “full disclosure,” so I decide to hold myself to that and not chicken out.

“Actually, while that’s also true, I meant I haven’t slept with anyone but Suz.” My cheeks feel immeasurably hot, and I wonder if he can tell. His face is impassive, so I continue, “I mean, I have dated men—and other women—before, but it’s just never…you know, progressed…that far with anyone else but her.”

“Ah,” he says. His expression is still unreadable.

“I hope that’s not a dealbreaker or something.” I don’t see how it could be, but who knows. “I just thought you should know.”

He gets up and strides over to me. His gaze on me is warm. “I will admit, I am surprised. But it’s nothing I would consider a dealbreaker.” He places his hands lightly on my shoulders and rubs them up and down my arms. “Maybe someday we can change all that. Tonight, though, I just want to be here for you.”

“Thank you. I think I will sleep better with someone here,” I reply. I lean into his arms, and he gives me the gentlest hug. We pull apart, and I walk over to the bed.

He helps me get situated on the wedge pillow and pulls the covers up. “Comfortable?”

“As much as I can be, considering.”

“Maybe this will help.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine. It’s a brief, comforting kiss. When he pulls away, he caresses the side of my face and kisses my forehead. “Good night, Clare.”

“Good night. And thank you.”

He turns the light off, and I hear the rustling as he removes his clothing and slips into the bed. A thought runs through my brain about what he looks like naked, but between my exhaustion and the drugs, it’s fleeting. I feel him take my hand right before I drift off to sleep.