Page 6

Part 3

“Uninvited”

April

“How are you feeling, Clare?” my GP, Dr. Nouri asks the next morning.

I shrug. “I feel fine, but I’m freaking out a bit. And I haven’t slept great since I had the biopsy. Even worse last night after I got the call, if I’m honest.”

She nods. “That’s understandable. I can send over a prescription for Xanax, and you can take even just a quarter tablet to help you sleep, because sleep is definitely important. Just don’t drive or anything while you’re taking it.”

“I don’t drive so that’s not a problem,” I assure her.

She types things into her laptop—sending the prescription to the pharmacy, most likely—then turns back to me. “I’m happy to answer any questions you have as best I can, but I wanted to go over the game plan first, if that’s okay.”

I nod, unconsciously picking at the skin around my thumbnail.

“Since adenocarcinoma can come from multiple places, we need to find the source. Most likely—given the location of the affected lymph nodes—it is breast, so I’m going to send you for a breast MRI since nothing showed on the mammogram or ultrasound. I’m also going to refer you for a chest and abdominal CT scan, to make sure there’s nothing coming from somewhere else. With me so far?”

“Yes,” I reply. “It’s a lot to take in, but that sounds like a good plan.”

She nods. “It is a lot, but before I refer you to oncology, I want to make sure I’m sending you to the right team. If it’s breast, then I want to send you to the breast care team. If it’s something else, then I want to get you to them. Once we get the results back from these scans, I’ll get you to the right place and they’ll get you moving with biopsies and treatment.”

“Treatment,” I repeat. My left knee starts bouncing up and down, unbidden. “That word just sounds so overwhelming.” I think about Roddy and our coffee “date,” and how much I’d really like to go on a proper date with him sometime. But is that something you can do when you’re going through what I’m about to go through?

“I know,” Dr. Nouri says, putting a reassuring hand on mine. “Hopefully, when we get the results back from the scans, the news will be the best possible and mean less in the way of ‘treatment’ for you.”

“Fingers crossed,” I say, crossing the fingers of my other hand and attempting a smile. We talk some more about what to expect from the tests I’ll be undergoing and how long it could take to get everything scheduled.

“I know it’s really scary. I won’t pretend that it’s not. But, I’m here if you need me. Just send a message through the portal or call the office and set up an appointment to come chat with me. We can even do telehealth, if it’s more convenient. I can also refer you to a counselor or therapist, if you feel like you would benefit from that.”

“I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. This has been really helpful,” I reply sincerely.

We both stand up and she pats me gently on the back as she opens the door to the exam room. “I wish you the best and I will keep in touch as I receive the results from the scans. As I said, though, don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything in the meantime.”

“Thanks.” I exit the exam room and head for the checkout. Once I’m outside, I take a few deep breaths of spring air before I walk to the bus stop to head back to Abby’s since Nate told me to take the rest of the week off from work. Although I did swing by to pick up my phone, which was still sitting on my desk in his office, right where I left it. I know I’m going to need a nice warm shower and some time to wrap my mind around everything before I meet Roddy this afternoon.

* * *

Sitting in the coffee shop, I’m willing myself to settle down. I don’t think my left knee has stopped jumping since I left the doctor’s office this morning, and while I’m not a particularly nervous person most of the time, I can really work myself up into a frenzy. I remind myself to get an herbal tea when I order. Ordinarily, I loathe herbal tea—and coffee, for that matter—but I know the caffeine will just make me more jittery. And, a hot chocolate might make me seem too self-indulgent. For goodness’ sake, Clare, just be yourself!

The tinkle of the bell on the door signals the entry of yet another person that is not him. I’m beginning to think he isn’t coming. Why should he come and face the person who embarrassed herself, and him, last night? I still can’t believe I did what I did. Who kisses someone they don’t even know just because of déjà vu from a dream? I wonder what my father would say if he knew what I did. I bet he’d think I lost my last ounce of sanity. “Clare,” he’d say, “you’ve gone and lost your last marble, now haven’t ya?”

“Clare?” I hear from a deep, male voice beside me and nearly jump out of my chair. Leave it to me to be daydreaming when he shows up so that I look even more the fool. At least I didn’t have a drink to spill. I look up and see a hint of a smile playing at his lips. Was he this tall last night?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says after a moment. He puts his hand out. “I’m Roddy.”

Eventually I realize that I haven’t said anything or made any move to get up to greet him. “Oh…uh…that’s okay,” I stammer, standing and taking his hand. “I’m Clare.”

“Well, Clare, it’s nice to meet you…formally,” he replies. He pats my hand with his left hand, presumably to remind me that we’re still shaking hands since I seem to have forgotten. I not so gracefully take my hand back and sit down. Gesturing at the chair opposite me, he asks, “May I join you?”

I nod. He removes his jacket and sits down. I feel like I should say something, but I have no words. Last night, I really didn’t register just how handsome he is. Even now, it’s hard to pinpoint. His curly, medium brown hair is definitely a turn-on—I’ve always been partial to people with curly hair, although Suz has straight hair—and I wish I could run my fingers through it, but I’m sure that would scare him off even more. He’s wearing dark-wash jeans which are not too loose, not too tight, and a simple blue polo shirt that indicates a well-defined chest underneath. He has strong features—a chiseled jawline, Roman nose and dark hazel eyes. And his lips are not too full and not too thin, perfect for kissing.

Get a grip, Clare! I wake myself out of my reverie and try to think of something to say to him. “Should we order?” I ask.

“Sure. What would you like?” he asks, standing.

“Oh, I can get mine,” I say, not wanting him to think he has to buy the drink I still haven’t decided on just because I kissed him last night. I’m not that kind of girl.

“There’s really no point in both of us going up there to order. Plus, I forced you to come down here to explain yourself, so the least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee.”

“Okay,” I relent. “I actually don’t care for coffee, but an herbal tea would be nice.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize I really want the hot cocoa with all the whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top. But, my inner personal trainer tells me to save the calories.

“Huh,” he says. “I don’t like coffee either. Thought I was the only one.” He smiles and walks up to the counter to place the order.

I silently pray that it takes the staff a while to make our drinks, so I’ll have more time to think of what to say to him when he returns. Abby coached me last night after we came up with a few different plausible scenarios in which a girl might chase a guy down the street to kiss him. I know I can’t tell him the real reason because he would never believe me, and he’d probably drive me straight to the psych ward and leave me there. I’m not sure he’ll believe these other stories either, but they’re all I’ve got. And I’m certainly not going to tell him about the “Big C Word,” especially since I don’t have any concrete information yet myself. I’m just deciding on which story I’m going to go with when he arrives back at the table with three steaming mugs.

“So, they didn’t have any herbal tea,” he says, placing two mugs in front of me. “I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer instead, so I got you an English Breakfast tea—my personal favorite—and a hot chocolate. I didn’t get any whipped cream on it, but if you want some, I’d be happy to go back and get them to add it.”

I stare at him, astonished. “The hot chocolate looks great,” I reply. “And English Breakfast is my favorite tea, too.”

He sits down, looking relieved, and squirts some honey into his tea. “Alright, no more beating around the bush. What was that last night?”

I pick up my mug of cocoa and blow the steam away. I know if I take a sip now, I’ll regret it, but it comforts me to just hold the warm mug in my hands. “I…you see…I had a bad breakup, as I mentioned last night. And, I…uh…went temporarily insane?” It comes out as a question, but it wasn’t supposed to. And, this isn’t at all how Abby coached me. But, when I was looking at her and explaining myself, it was easy. Looking at Roddy now, I can’t seem to remember anything. “And I know I should have at least asked if it was okay to…you know…kiss you, but I got caught up in the momentary insanity of it all, and…didn’t.”

“I see.” He leans back in his chair and places his hands behind his head. He looks thoughtful for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. I almost think he’s bought it, but then he looks me straight in the eyes and starts laughing. It’s not an I’m-making-fun-of-you kind of laugh, but a laugh like we’re sharing in the joke. And I guess we sort of are. I know my “explanation” made no sense and was tentative at best. He knows it’s a lie, and I know it’s a lie, but maybe he’s going to let it go.

“Did you really break up with your boyfriend?” he asks.

“Girlfriend, actually, but yes.” Seeing his raised eyebrow, I add, “I’m bisexual.”

“Oh, that’s cool. My brother-in-law is bi or maybe pan. I’m not really sure.” He takes a sip of his tea while I’m thinking this is the shortest conversation I’ve ever had about my sexuality with anyone. “So, when exactly did you break up with your girlfriend?”

“Last night. About five minutes before I asked to borrow your phone,” I say sheepishly.

His eyes widen. “Tell me you’re joking.”

I shake my head. Now he thinks I’m the biggest slut in the world, in addition to being completely insane.

“Did you break up with her or did she break up with you?”

“I broke up with her.”

“So, you broke up with your girlfriend and thought ‘I’ll just kiss the next person I see, and it’ll make me feel better?’”

“No, that wasn’t it at all,” I say, emphatically. “I think I just lost my mind for a moment. It was pouring down rain and you were so kind to lend me your phone, and I just…I just really appreciated it.”

He laughs again. “So, what do you do when someone off the street helps you up if you fall? Or do I even want to know?”

I can feel the heat building on my cheeks, and I want to crawl under the table. I don’t know what to say to him. I’m about to stammer something when my phone rings. The Caller ID says it’s from the hospital system, and I can tell from a quick glance that Roddy has noticed this also. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I need to take this.”

“No problem,” he replies and gestures for me to answer.

Under normal circumstances, I would answer it outside, but the rain from yesterday still hasn’t let up, so my options are to either answer it in a relatively quiet coffee house or outside on a busy street in the rain. I opt for the quiet coffee house and just hope that I won’t have to give any potentially embarrassing details over the phone. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon. This is Maggie from Wake Radiology. May I speak with Clare O’Donnell, please?”

“This is she,” I reply. I pull out my pocket calendar, knowing that this is probably a call to schedule those tests my doctor wanted me to have. And, yes, I’m old-school and have a physical calendar in my purse still even though our phones can do everything but make us meals these days.

“Ms. O’Donnell, I’m calling to get you scheduled for the bilateral breast MRI, and chest and abdominal CT scan ordered by Dr. Nouri. For the MRI, I can get you in next Tuesday at ten AM in the Raleigh office. Will that work for you?”

“Yes, that will work.” I write that down.

“Great. I have you scheduled for that. There’s no prep you’ll need to do for that test and you won’t need a driver or anything. You’ll get a message in the portal with directions and a link to pre-register. Now, for the CT…” She pauses and I hear her typing something. “I can actually get you in today at five-thirty in the Wake Forest office. Would you be able to make that? Keep in mind, you can’t have had anything to eat or drink two hours prior to the procedure.”

I look at my watch: four-twenty. “You mean in an hour and ten minutes? Um…I don’t… Do you have anything next week?”

She types again. “No. Nothing for next week. The earliest I’d be able to get you in would be in two weeks. We had a cancellation for this evening, so that’s why we have this spot available.”

I really don’t want to wait for two weeks to have this test done because that will just prolong everything. But, for me to get to Wake Forest from Raleigh via rideshare in the middle of rush hour is going to cost a fortune, because there’s no way I’ll be able to figure out the bus transfers in time. Plus, I actually haven’t had anything to eat or drink for the last couple of hours, since I never took a sip of any of the drinks Roddy brought me after all.

While all this is going through my mind, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I start and remember Roddy is still sitting across from me. And he’s probably heard this entire exchange because this woman is speaking so loudly. If only the ground could swallow me whole…

“I can take you wherever you need to go,” he says, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” I reply. “You don’t even know me.”

“Ms. O’Donnell?” Maggie says on the phone. “Are you going to take the appointment today?”

“I…uh…” I stammer.

Roddy nods his head and starts collecting the various mugs on the table.

“Yes, I’ll take the appointment.”

“Okay. I’ll email you with the pre-registration link so you can fill out the forms on your way here, if possible. That will just speed up the process once you arrive.”

I get the other details about the appointment from her and end the call. Meanwhile, Roddy has put all the drinks into to-go cups and a drink carrier tray so we can, presumably, take them with us. I collect my things, and we get ready to leave.

“Thank you,” I say, knowing it is nowhere near enough.

“It seemed like it was really important for you to get there today, and it didn’t sound like you had another way to do so. I’m happy to do it.” He waves a hand in a gesture that says it’s nothing. “Plus, it means I get to spend a little more time with you.”

I know I’m blushing as we walk out into the rain and open our respective umbrellas. He indicates with a nod of his head the direction to his car, and we walk in silence. On the way there, he puts up a finger for me to pause, and he stops to hand my two drinks to a homeless woman sitting under an awning on the corner. She thanks him, gratefully. My heart absolutely melts.

He walks back over to me with just his cup. “I hope you don’t mind, but they wouldn’t be any good cold. I’ll get you a fresh one once your test is over.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I say honestly.

We arrive at his car—a grey hybrid SUV—and he opens the passenger door for me. I have to fiddle a bit with my umbrella to get it closed, then climb into the car. He closes my door then heads around to the driver’s side.

“So, where exactly are we headed?” he asks once he’s settled and buckled in.

I give him the address—hoping against hope he doesn’t balk when he finds out it’s all the way up in Wake Forest, and we’re going to be driving there in the rain during rush hour—and he plugs it into the GPS in his dash.

“Got it. ETA: thirty-five minutes.” He puts the car in drive, checks for cars and pulls out of his parking space.

I’m about to tell him again how much I appreciate this when he asks, “So, not to pry, but do you not have a car or something? I mean, I noticed that you needed Abby to come pick you up the other night and now you were struggling to make it to this appointment. Feel free to tell me to mind my own business if you don’t want to answer.”

“It’s okay,” I say. I’m so used to answering this line of questioning, it’s rote now. “I haven’t driven since my parents were killed in a car accident five years ago. I was in the backseat and was pretty banged up myself. Once I recovered enough to be able to drive again, I found I just couldn’t. Most of the time, I take the bus, or I use rideshare if I have to.”

When we stop at the next light, he looks over at me with sincere sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

“Thanks. I’m tempted, at times, to try to get my license again. But I haven’t quite gotten to that point yet.”

We sit in silence for a while as he navigates through downtown traffic on our way out of the city. Thankfully, everyone seems to be driving well despite the rain—not always a safe bet in North Carolina—and we haven’t hit a major slowdown yet.

I keep thinking I should be incredibly nervous about this scan I’m about to have, but instead, I’m more nervous about telling this man I barely know in the car next to me why I’m having the scan I’m about to have. He hasn’t asked, and he’s probably too polite to ask, but I feel like he has the right to know since he’s driving me all the way out there.

“Um…in case you were wondering, you’re driving me to a CT scan,” I say.

His right eyebrow lifts slightly, though he stays focused on the road. “Oh?”

He’s not going to make this easy on me, is he? Or, is he just being polite so you don’t have to tell him all the details? “I had to have a biopsy earlier this week on one of my lymph nodes, and it came back positive for cancer. They’re not sure where it’s coming from, hence the CT scan.”

“Clare, I don’t know what to say. That really sucks,” he replies.

“It really does.”

He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. I will myself not to burst into tears.

The GPS breaks the tension by giving him instructions, and he puts his hand back on the wheel. We go back to companionable silence until we get to the radiology office.

Once he puts the car into park, I start to unbuckle my seatbelt, but he puts his hand over mine to stop me. “Clare, I have something I want to say before we go in there.”

We? I hadn’t thought he would go in with me. “Yes?”

“Just so you know, that was one hell of a kiss.”

* * *

The scan itself is relatively easy, and the nursing staff is so kind that they put me mostly at ease. I get changed into a gown, they insert the IV for the contrast, and I lay down on the table. You’re not supposed to move during a scan, so I’m conscious of not fidgeting, and instead my mind is whirring with all the possibilities of things they could find, and I’m silently praying the whole time I’m being scanned that nothing comes up.

Once the scan is complete, I get dressed and meet Roddy in the waiting room. The waiting room chair looks too small for his height, but he somehow manages to look comfortable flipping through a copy of Better Homes & Gardens. There’s a photo of snowflake cookies on the cover so it must be several months, or years, old.

“Anything interesting in there?” I ask when I get close to his chair.

He looks up, his eyes fixing me with both interest and concern. “Lots of tips on how to decorate both your home and your cookies for the holidays. I’m not the biggest fan of plain sugar cookies and all white Christmas décor, though my sister would probably be all over this as an interior designer.” He sets the magazine aside. “All finished? Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes.” I nod.

We walk out to the parking lot, but before we make it to his car, I’m suddenly overcome with all the fears I’ve been tamping down all day. Tears fill my eyes, and I have to stop walking when I can no longer see. I feel Roddy’s strong arms around me in an instant and I break down.

“I’m…so-rry,” I sob into his chest.

“Shhh,” he soothes, rubbing my back in gentle circles. “Don’t apologize. It’s alright. Let it all out.”

The safety of being in his arms calms me until my breathing gets closer to normal and my tears subside. I give him a squeeze, then step back from his embrace, but he keeps a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“I’m…” I begin then start again. “It’s been a lot the last couple of days.”

He nods. “Understandable.”

I take in another shaky breath. “Okay, I think I’m better now. We can go.”

Roddy takes my hand, and we walk the rest of the way to the car. I have never before felt more scared or safer in my life.