Текст книги "Cruel and Beautiful"

Автор книги: A. M. Hargrove

Соавторы: Terri E. Laine
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

MY ROLE AS AN INTERN is in full swing and living with Drew is working out better than I’d expected. He is as easy going every day as he was on the weekends we were together. There are never any surprises, which I love about him.

My boss, Mr. Hendershot, is great. He takes me under his wing and spoon feeds me the kind of information interns rarely get. I’ve landed a gem of a job. Besides the occasional audit engagement for clients who have fiscal years, I’m working on writing their policy manual in the accounting department, which gives me the opportunity to use my dual major. Mr. Hendershot is filled with all sorts of knowledge that he doles out to me like M&M’s and I joyfully gobble them up. Midway through the summer, he asks what my intentions are as far as geographical locations after graduation.

“My fiancé and I will be moving back to Charleston. He is going to pursue a fellowship in oncology there.”

“Well, that’s a shame, Cate, because I would love to have you on board with us. But I can certainly promise you a great recommendation. You know, wherever you land, you’re going to shine.”

That night I rush in from work, eager to share my news with Drew. He loves hearing about my work, and he’s always very supportive of everything I do. But he’s not there and I spy a note from him on the counter.

Just a reminder, babe, I have hockey practice tonight.

Won’t be late.

This guy looooves you!

A giant grin spreads across my face. He always leaves me the cutest notes. I hug it to my chest on the way to the bedroom to change. When I get back to the kitchen I open up the fridge and decide to make Greek chicken for dinner. Drew loves it and he will be famished when he gets home.

I get everything assembled and pop the pan in the oven. Then I make a tossed salad. While it does its thing, I decide to drink a beer and read a bit. A little over an hour later, the apartment smells heavenly and my stomach rumbles in response.

When I open the oven door, the chicken looks scrumptious. So much so that my mouth waters. Checking the time, I see that Drew should be home in about thirty minutes. I turn the oven off, cover the pan loosely with foil, and decide to wait on him. Not much long after that my phone buzzes. Checking the caller ID, I see it’s Drew.

“Hey honey.”

“Cate,” he wheezes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I got checked in the ribs and I think they’re fractured. I’m on the way to get an X-ray.”

“Shit. Want me to come and get you?”

“No. I’m good to drive.”

“You sure? You sound bad.”

“Just hurts to breathe. I’ll be home soon.”

“Be careful.”

“Will do.”

Now I’m worried sick about him driving like that. Sitting and waiting is the worst. I want to call him, but I hate to be a bother. Too many minutes tick by and my phone rings at last.

“No break but I’m bruised. I’ll be home in a bit.”

“That’s good news. Be careful.”

I pace until I see his headlights through the blinds and I shoot out the door.

“This is a fine greeting. I need to get injured more often.”

“Drew McKnight. Don’t you ever say that. I’ve been worried sick.”

I hold his arm while he gets out, noticing him wince as he does.

“Can I get you some ice?”

“I’m not sure that will help, though it won’t hurt. I have pain meds, but I don’t like taking them.”

“Take them at least tonight. Can you tell me what happened?”

“An everyday body check. Happens all the time, but this must’ve caught me just right. It was weird though, because I didn’t feel like the guy hit me that hard.” He shrugs and says, “I guess he got my sweet spot or something.”

“Know what I think?”

“What?”

“Gramps can’t take it anymore.” I give him a lop-sided grin.

“Oh, I guess that’s what it was.”

We’re inside now and I ask, “Want to sit or lie down?”

“Sit. I need food with these pain meds.”

“Well, lucky you. You’ve come to the right place. Let me fix you a plate.”

He doesn’t eat much, which tells me how much pain he’s in. Drew is not one to complain, and he doesn’t now, but he can’t seem to take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Cate, this is excellent, but I can’t eat any more.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather you be comfortable than force yourself to eat. Let me help you to bed.”

“I need a hot shower.”

“Need help?”

“I’ve got this.”

He does hurt. Normally he’d never refuse an offer like this. I help him to the bedroom where he slowly undresses. His side already has signs of bruising.

“Yep. Black and blue popping out already,” I say.

“Hmm.” His fingers probe the area, and he winces.

“Stop that. You already know you’re bruised. You don’t need to keep poking at yourself.” He favors his side as he sort of does a wobble-walk to the bathroom. Not much later, he’s out and gently plops onto the bed.

“Damn, I do feel old.”

“But you look like a million bucks.” I wink.

“Kiss me, Cate.”

I bend over him and offer him my lips.

“You’re the best wife-to-be a man could ever hope to have.”

“And I love you more than ice cream, Drew.”

“Hmm. That’s a whole lot, isn’t it?”

“You bet it is. Now let those pain killers do their job and get some sleep.”

The next morning, he’s feeling better. Physically, anyway. But something bothers him, only he won’t say what. I pester him but he tells me he’s fine.

It’s about three weeks later while Drew is in the gym doing bench presses, when the side he injured flares with pain. It’s so severe, he has to drop the weight, and call me.

“Cate, can you come to the gym?”

I pick him up and take him to the ER. They X-ray him and tell him he has pleurisy, an inflammation of the lining of the lung. Drew grills the doctor, while I as the ignorant layperson have no idea what’s really going on. They give him antibiotics, which Drew insists he doesn’t need and argues with the treating physician, but they eventually convince him to take them.

On the drive home, Drew is quiet and when I ask him questions, he responds in monosyllabic answers.

“Will you tell me what’s in your head right now?”

“Frustrated, that’s all.”

“It’s fine. You’ll take the medicine and you’ll be fine.”

He isn’t. The pain doesn’t resolve. He goes to one of his attendings at the hospital, and they suggest more tests. He doesn’t tell me any of this until a few weeks later.

Summer is ending and my final year at Purdue begins in one week. I can’t believe it. I’m ready to get this show on the road so Drew and I can get on with our lives. I move back to West Lafayette in few days, as my internship has ended, and most of my things are packed up. Drew and I will be spending these last few days together, because for whatever reason, he doesn’t have to work.

I’ve just come in from the store and Drew is sitting on the couch. My arms are laden with grocery bags and normally, he would jump up to help me. This time he only sits there.

“Hey,” I say.

“Cate. Can you sit here with me, please?”

“Give me a minute. My hands are full.” It sort of pisses me off a little that he ignores my struggles. When I have everything put up, I go into the living room and notice how pale he is. His usually tanned face has a slightly grayish cast to it and he appears … stressed. The normally happy-faced Drew is absent.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, as I sit down, taking his hand.

He scratches his neck and says, “I should be fairly good at this, but I’m not. So I’m going to tell you straight up and please forgive my bluntness.”

“Drew, you’re scaring me.”

“Cate, all this stuff going on with me, my ribs, the pleurisy. It’s none of that. I have cancer. Bone cancer. Ewing Sarcoma to be precise.”

My arms and hands go numb as shock settles in. “Wh-what? What are you saying? Cancer?” My gut drops through the floor and I want to lose everything I ate today. Cancer! Drew! My brain spins with his words.

“Yes, cancer. I wasn’t satisfied with their diagnoses, so I discussed everything with one of the attendings in my program, and he suggested a bone scan. That’s what it showed. Well, it showed a mass the size of a thumbnail and then I had a CT-guided needle biopsy, and a follow up PET scan.”

“And you didn’t tell me any of this?” I don’t even know what most of what he said is.

“I didn’t want to worry you if it turned out to be nothing.”

“Drew,” I throw my arms around him. “I wish you had told me. I would’ve been there with you.”

“Guess it doesn’t matter now,” he says as he hugs me back.

“Oh my god. How did you hide this from me?”

He doesn’t answer, only shakes his head.

“So now what?”

“I guess my choice of fellowships was prophetic. The oncology fellow gets cancer himself.”

“Oh, Drew.” I squeeze him tighter.

“Easy there, Cate.”

“Oh,” I say, letting him go.

“Don’t let me go, just not so tight. I need those arms of yours right now. I’m scared. For one of the first times in my life.”

Now I know this is the real deal. I know I can’t let the tears loose that keep trying to punch their way through. I must be strong for him.

“Talk to me, babe. Tell me what the plan is,” I say, my face against his neck. Please, God, let me be strong for this beautiful man.

“Chemo. Then surgery. Here’s the weird thing. I have a pediatric cancer. It’s super rare for an adult to get this. But they may switch up my chemo a bit since I’m not a peds patient. I meet with the Oncology team Monday. I had a phone call with one of them today. They may want to do a surgical excision first. They’re having a tumor board on Friday.”

“A tumor board?”

“Yeah, it’s where a bunch of oncologists get together and discuss a case. I will be theirs this Friday. Then we meet on Monday to decide my course of therapy.”

“Are you good with this? Do we need to go somewhere else?”

“Nah. They connect with all the major centers so the treatment protocols are pretty much the same.”

“Your parents? Do they know?”

“Not yet. I’m going to call them tomorrow.”

“Drew, look at me.” Sadness dulls his normally bright blue eyes. “We’re going to kick this cancer in the ass, babe. Do you hear me? I’m going to be with you every step of the way and we’re going to knock this thing out of you. I want you to understand this.”

“I know. I’m with you, Cate. We’re going to win this war. It’s what I want to do with my life … with our lives.”

I grab his face and kiss him. “You bet your ass we do.”

“There’s something else. With chemo, there’s a strong chance it will destroy any possibility of my ability to have kids.”

“Drew, I don’t care …”

“Let me finish, Cate. I want to freeze my sperm. In the chance that it does, and I do beat this …”

“There is no if. You’re going to beat this.”

“I know. So, when the time comes, and we want kids, we’ll still be able to do that.”

“Okay.” And I hug him, because if there is a choice, I will always choose Drew.

Drew has a meeting scheduled with his oncology team on Monday, the same day classes start for me. I want to skip so I can be with him. He assures me he’s good.

“Realistically, babe, what can you do? I have one of my attendings coming with me, and Mom and Dad will be here, too. It’s not that I don’t want you there, but you need to be in class. This is your final year.”

“I know but this is your life. I’m a part of it. I want to be with you, holding your hand.”

“And you will. In spirit.”

I pace the living room. I’ve delayed my departure by two days. I don’t have books or anything purchased yet. He’s right and I know it. This is going to be a tough semester for me, too. I’m taking eighteen ball-busting hours.

“Come here.” He calls me over to the couch where he sits. Then he pulls me on his lap. I suck in my breath and try to get up. “I’m not fragile, Cate. Don’t treat me as though I am. Now listen up. We both have lives to live and I want us to be as normal as possible. Cancer sucks, no matter how you look at it. There will be times I’ll need you desperately. Right now is not one of them. I have a huge support team and you’re my number one. I know that. As soon as I’m finished, I’ll call. But you have a job to do. When we get married in June, you need to be done, your diploma in hand, with that summa cum laude behind your name. You won’t be able to do that if you skip classes.”

“I love you, Drew.”

“Good. Now take your clothes off, because it’s going to be a few days before I see you again.”

This time when we make love, it’s slow and careful. Drew’s eyes never leave mine, it seems. Almost like he’s memorizing everything about me that he can. And as much as it’s beautiful, it’s frightening, too. The vibrancy of him, the way he’s so full of life makes me believe they must have made an error. They must’ve gotten it all wrong. It was someone else’s biopsy that they got mixed up with his. Then the truth bullies the fantasy aside and I know it’s real. Urgency invades me and I can’t seem to get enough of him. I want to drink him in, fill myself with Drew, until I can’t possibly take any more. He senses it; I know it. I’m no good at hiding my emotions. His lips capture mine in a searing kiss and when he releases me, he says, “It’s going to be fine. We’ll make it, Cate. I know. I’m going to beat this.”

And I believe him. He’s so convincing and strong. How can he not?

His chemo treatments begin the following week. As his luck would have it, they are opting for the more aggressive approach. The drugs they will use are toxic. I cringe just thinking about it. Caroline, Sam’s wife, is going with him for his first treatment, and then I will be there the next day, to spend the weekend. This semester is turning to shit. All I think about is being with him.

When I arrive at his apartment, he’s in bed. The blinds are drawn and he’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him so I stand in the doorway and watch him. He’s beautiful. His full lips and straight nose are profiled against his pillow and I want to bend down and kiss him, but I don’t budge. The sheet is pulled down his body, exposing his torso, and I think about what’s lurking beneath that gorgeous skin. How can something so ugly, so grotesque, be growing inside of all that magnificence? I cover my mouth to stop any sound from escaping. The urge to kiss his ribs nearly drives my feet into forward motion. I want to be the one to take it all away from him. Ridiculous, I know, but that’s how I feel, nonetheless. Guess you could say it’s my protective instinct. If I could touch every single bit of him right now, without waking him, I would. I wish I could soak him up, absorb him into me, and keep him safe there forever. I turn and quickly run away, trying to get out of there so I don’t wake him with my sobs. It’s so fucking hard to keep my shit together when I’m around him.

The vibration in my pocket has me digging out my phone. It’s Jenna.

“Hey,” I gulp.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a small meltdown. He’s sleeping and I haven’t even woken him up.”

“Why the tears then?”

“Because I looked at him lying there and …” I’m a hopeless, sobbing mess all over again.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she coos. “It’s going to be fine, Cate.”

In a shaky whisper, I say, “I don’t think it is, Jenna.”

“Cate, get a grip. You have a ton at stake here, particularly that guy inside. Get your shit together.”

I sniff loudly and rub my eyes with my fist. “You’re right. You’re right.”

“He needs your happy face, not some weepy-assed woman in his life right now.”

“I know. I only do this around you.”

“You can cry on my shoulder any day of the week, but if you ever do this in front of him, I will personally kick your ass all the way back to Charleston.”

I rub my face again. “Okay. You can. I may even help you.”

“Now go inside and crawl in bed with that man.”

“But he needs to sleep.”

“Listen to me you dork. He needs you! He needs you to hold him so get in that bed and wrap your arms around him and hug your body close to him. Oh, and stop in the bathroom first to make sure you don’t have raccoon eyes and skanky breath.”

That makes me laugh, and I actually snort. “Okay, boss.”

“Now ‘git’.”

Sneaking in the bathroom, I fix my eyes, removing all signs of the raccoon and then brush my teeth.

Back in the bedroom, I don’t allow myself to have any morbid, weepy thoughts. I undress and slide under the covers, then wind myself around Drew.

He lifts his head and smiles. “Hey, babe. You’re the best thing I’ve seen in ages. God, you feel good.” His arm hugs me tightly to him and holds my head to his chest.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Just wiped out. Otherwise, okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They gave me all kinds of stuff to counteract the side effects and so far so good, other than the damn exhaustion.”

“Then sleep. I’m here and will get you anything and everything you need.”

“The only thing I need is you.” He kisses the top of my head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.”

“Your classes?” He’s always so worried about me, and how I’m dealing with all of this.

“My professors are awesome. I’m good.”

“Hmm. Good to hear.”

“Sleep, babe. I’m right here with you, if you need me.”

“Love you.”

“Right back to you.” I press my lips to his chest.

I didn’t think I was tired, but being in Drew’s arms, close to him, must have made me relax enough to fall asleep. When I wake up, it’s pitch black in the room. He’s still out, so I scoot out of bed and I’m shocked to see it’s after ten. I need to fix something to eat because my stomach just let out a huge growl, like Tony the Tiger. Then I chuckle to myself, thinking that’s probably what I’ll end up having to eat—Frosted Flakes. I doubt Drew has shopped for groceries with everything going on. But I get a big surprise when I open the refrigerator. It’s stocked full of things. So I grin and go to work.

Chicken and dumplings is on the menu, along with homemade chicken noodle soup. Those are two things I can cook and cook well. My mother taught me how to make them when I was young, and they are two of my specialties. Jenna always begs me for them, and Drew loves them, too. I’m just about finished with both when he makes an appearance in the kitchen.

And did I ever fuck up. He looks green. And then it smacks me in the face. The odor!

“Oh, shit!” I turn on the exhaust fan and light a couple of candles, but the damage is already done. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I was hungry and figured they would be a great treat for you.”

He has my favorite faded jeans on and a t-shirt and he says, “I’m just going to go and sit in my car for a minute.”

Now I totally feel like a douche. “Oh, no. I’ll open a window. The smell should be gone really fast.”

“It’s okay. I just need some air.”

I fist my hands in my hair. How in the fuck could I have been so damn stupid? The man just gets massive chemo, he’s bordering on nausea, and I’m in here cooking up a storm. What a dumbnut!

My first mission is to air the place out, so I open a couple of windows and burn some more candles. Luckily, everything I’ve cooked is done. I turn it all off and run outside to check on Drew.

He sits in his car with his head leaning back against the seat.

“Are you okay?”

“Just sweating. I got so nauseated, I was pouring the stuff.”

“Jeez. Nice to know your fiancée is a moron, huh?”

He laughs a little. “It’s all in the learning curve, babe.”

“Thanks for not being pissed off.”

“As if I could ever be that at you.”

“You never do get mad at me. Why is that?”

His head is still back and his eyes are closed. He shrugs and says, “What purpose would that serve? Anger only breeds anger. I get pissed at you, then you get pissed back at me, and it turns into a vicious cycle. It’s just better if I analyze my feelings and deal with them.”

I’m standing right outside his car, talking to him through his window. I lean down against the frame as I think about what he says. It makes so much sense, but most of us react before we process what’s happening. We don’t stop and listen to what the other person is saying. “How the hell did you get to be so smart and intuitive?”

“I’m not. I’m just a thinker.”

“I’m glad I fell in love with a thinker, then. And since you fell in love with a stinker, I’m going to check to see if the apartment still smells.”

I see his body shake as he chuckles. “Cate, kiss me first.”

Leaning in, I press my lips to his, then I run inside.

The smell leaves and Drew returns. It’s good to see green man is gone.

“I think I’m gonna be one of those people who gets affected by smells. Some people are fine with it, but I can already tell I’m not gonna be one of those.”

Putting my hands on his shoulders, I say, “If that’s one of your side effects, I promise not to cook on your worst days.”

“The weird thing is though, I feel like I could eat something.”

“I made chicken soup and chicken and dumplings. Want to try some?”

He nods. “Maybe a little bowl of the soup.”

I ladle up a little bit and he takes a few spoonfuls. “This is good, but my appetite isn’t in full swing yet. I’ve always heard how quirky chemo makes you. I’m starting to get that now.”

“I’m just happy as hell you were able to take a few bites. Why don’t you go and take a shower and I’ll fix you a glass of ice water.”

He gets off his chair and wraps me in a hug as I’m clearing his bowl. “You’re the best. Thanks.”

The next morning, Drew wakes up and shakes me.

“What is it?” I ask, flying out of the bed.

He lies there, laughing at me. “Damn, you’re jumpy.”

“You scared me!”

“I need a favor.”

“You woke me up out of the deepest sleep ever, to ask me for a favor?”

“Yeah.” He has his old boyish grin back and the sparkle in his crystalline blues has returned.

“You know I’ll do anything for you. What is it?”

“I want you to shave my head today.”

“Huh? Shave your head?”

Without any sadness, remorse, or regret, he says, “Uh huh. This mop of mine is going to start falling out in clumps and I don’t want the mess all over the house. I decided I want to shave it off to save myself the trouble. I have one of those barber clippers from when I used to wear my hair almost shaved. So, will you do it?”

“You trust me that much?”

He busts out in a knee-slapping laugh. “Seriously, Cate. I’m asking you to shave it all off. How can you possibly fuck it up?”

“You’re talking to the person who tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to wax Louise. Remember?”

“How can I forget? But I’m not asking you to wax my head. I wouldn’t dare do that.”

We both are in fits of laughter now. Finally I say that I’ll do it, as long as he doesn’t hold any fuck ups against me. So, later that day, I watch all of Drew’s gorgeous hair fall off as I work the barber’s clippers over it. And when I’m done, I can’t believe how damn sexy the man looks bald.

“You are the only man who looks as good without hair as you do with it.”

“Aww, you’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Get over here, Cate.”

I climb on his hairy lap and give him a smooch. “I hope you don’t usually ask your barber to do this.”

“My barber’s name isn’t Cate. It’s George. And no, I don’t. But he wouldn’t mind, because he’s gay.”

By Sunday, Drew is back to feeling pretty good. I hate to leave, but I have to get back to Purdue.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Go. You have a shit ton of stuff to do. And don’t try to fool me.”

I wrap my arms around him, hating to let him go. “I’ll call as soon as I get back.”

“And I promise to call if I need you.”

He repeats his treatments every Thursday for a total of three and then gets two weeks off. At the end of the first round, I’m at his place on a Saturday. He’s watching TV and I’m writing, and I happen to glance at him. His cheeks are as pink and flushed, almost sunburned looking.

Crossing the room, I touch his forehead with the back of my hand and he feels terribly warm. He has a thermometer in the bathroom, so I go get it. A half hour later, we’re headed to the hospital. One of the problems with chemo is it kills your white blood count and makes you very susceptible to infections. Chemo patients must be very cautious and if they spike a fever, they need to be admitted to the hospital. That’s where Drew ends up. He has what’s known as an FUO—a fever of unknown origin. And it can be life threatening. His temperature was one hundred three when I took it. I’m freaking, but don’t want him to know it.

As soon as we get to the hospital, they put him on a gurney and wheel him into one of those tiny cubicles. A nurse comes in and attaches an IV line to the port they put in prior to his chemo—it’s a direct line into his bloodstream that’s attached to his chest. This way they never have to stick an IV into his vein. Then she draws several tubes of blood and says a doctor will be in.

An hour later, his oncologist cruises in, smiling.

“How do you feel?”

“Hot,” Drew says.

“Yeah, we’re doing blood cultures now, but you know how long those take. You’ll be out of here before they grow anything. I’m starting you on the big gun antibiotics prophylactically. Sorry man, but you’re in for the duration. We’re gonna add some stuff to your regimen to prevent this, too. You’ll get a room in about an hour. You need anything?”

“Can you cover my rotation for me?”

His doctor laughs. “I’ll get your attending in here. We’ve got you, man.” Then he turns to me and says, “No kissing and wash the hell out of your hands. I would prefer if you wear a mask and gloves around him, Cate. He’s in a risky situation right now.” He walks to cart, grabs a box of masks and gloves, and hands them to me.

“I understand.” Then he’s gone.

Before I get the chance to speak, Drew says, “Go home, babe. I’m so sleepy. I’m probably gonna nap all afternoon. This fever takes it out of me. You’ll be able to get your work done.”

“Maybe so. I can bring you back something to eat.”

“No, I meant go home home. I’m in for the week. I feel wasted. You have so much work and I know you’re blowing smoke up my ass when you say things are fine. Just go home and get your shit done. Come back Friday and I’ll be ready to go home. I promise.”

“Drew! I can’t leave.”

“Cate, come here.” He pats the bed so I sit. “Realistically, what can you do? And give me an honest answer.”

He’s right. I can’t do anything for him that he can’t do himself.

“See. I can hold my own dick to pee,” he says, winking at me, “but if I really needed help with that, I would tell you.”

I can’t help the bubbly giggle that spurts out of my lips.

“And my hands would be happy to hold your dick.”

“Oh, don’t I know it. Go, babe. Go pack up and call me when you get home. I’ll text you every time I wake up, but I’ll try not to bother you. I love you more than hockey, but you have shit to do.”

Guilt gushes into me. I want to stay with him, but he is so right. I have so much crap hanging over me right now, and this time away from him would help.

“I can see it in your eyes. You need to go. I couldn’t be in a better place. Go and drive safely. Call when you get home.”

I kiss the top of his beautiful bald head.

“Cate, don’t forget, bald is beautiful.”

“It sure is on you. Love you.” I give him a wave as I leave and my heart squeezes as he waves back. His crimson cheeks starkly contrast the purple crescents under his eyes. He really is feverish.

The trip home is miserable. I alternate between crying, laughing, and screaming my anger out in the car. Jenna waits for me when I walk in the door.

“He’s right and get over yourself. You need to be here and you can’t do a damn thing for him, as he lays in the bed sleeping.”

“Jenna, what if the infection kills him? His doctor wanted me to wear a mask around him.”

“Precautionary. Stop this. What happened to my no nonsense, solid thinking friend?”

“What happened to her? I’ll tell you what happened to her! Her fiancé got this fucking disease called cancer and it’s ravaging his body! That’s what happened to her!” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and I want to break something. “And don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

“Wouldn’t think of it.” Jenna doesn’t skip a beat as she walks to the cabinet, pulls out a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, and pours. Then she hands me one. “Drink.”

“What?”

“Drink, goddammit. You’re on the verge of freaking out on me. You need a fucking drink. Down it, now.”

Grabbing the glass out of her hand, I swallow it. Then she hands me the other one. “One more.”

After I drink that one, she walks to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of wine. After pouring two glasses, she hands me one and says, “Sit your ass down.”

So I do.

“How long do you think you can do this?”

“As long as it takes. I’ll do anything for him, Jenna.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant. You need help. With him. You’re driving back and forth like you’re the only one in the world who can help him. You have an unbelievable class load this semester. He has a mother, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t think …”

“Fuck you and your not thinking. Reach out to Letty. She’s probably trying to stay out of your hair. And here you are killing yourself.”

“You think?”

“I know. And Drew would never ask anyone for anything. Call her. She needs to know he’s in the hospital.”

I make the call and Letty arranges a flight for the morning. I don’t care if Drew is angry or not. The relief in her voice was worth it. Ray and I talk, too. He’s comfortable with what they’re doing, but sad Drew didn’t call. I tell them how wiped out he was and blamed it on that. It satisfies him so he says he will give Drew a call later.

Jenna is all smiles. “Feel better?”

“I do. Thanks.”

“You have to start delegating. This will be good experience for you when you get into your career. If you can’t delegate, you’re fucked up a tree, girl. You cannot possibly do it all. I know you’re super awesome and all, but hey, you’re not Wonder Woman.”

“I’m not?” I ask with a straight face.

“Nah. I am.”

I throw a pillow at her and then pounce on her.

“What the actual fuck would I do without you? You are keeping me in line here. Keeping my shit together.”

“That’s what maids of honor are for.”