[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter Thirty-Two


Jaymie

Dr. Stanley came in over twelve hours after the last time I’d seen Nick, smelling like hand sanitizer, and a strong soap. His hair was unruly in places and flat in others from the scrub cap he was pulling off as he walked in, and he had bags under his eyes. Howie had arrived and, after going through the question-and-answers-catch-up with him, we’d mostly been sitting around the tray table in the room half-heartedly playing a card game with a deck that the nurse who’d relieved Brenda had located for us. We were all quiet. Kevin was asleep in the corner in a horribly uncomfortable-looking position, and AJ, despite playing, still hadn’t spoken much other than the words mandatory to stay in the game. But when Dr. Stanley came in, we all folded, dropping our cards to the table top. AJ kicked Kevin in the knee and he woke up with a sputter, looking around until he spotted the doctor.

We might’ve been the ones playing poker, but Dr. Stanley was definitely the one with a poker face. He stood there all ominously in the doorway, then took a deep breath. “Good evening,” he said. He looked around, “It looks like you’ve all made yourself quite comfortable. Who’s winning?”

Nick’s okay, part of me said, He wouldn’t be making small talk if he wasn’t.

Then another part answered, Or would he? Maybe he’s giving you all one last moment of normalcy before shattering the entire planet.

“Howie is,” Brian answered Dr. Stanley’s inquiry, nodding at Howie.

“I always beat you at cards man,” Howie muttered.

“It’s true,” Brian agreed. “Nick usually says he’s cheating.”

At the utterance of Nick’s name, all our eyes turned to Dr. Stanley with purpose.

Dr. Stanley took a deep breath.

Just say it already, I thought.

And without any prelude, he did.

“We removed approximately 97% of the tumor,” he announced. Kevin sat up and Brian’s eyes widened with excitement. “We encountered a complication when an artery was injured and we had some severe bleeding as a result. We had to pause from the process of removal in order to cauterize the bleeding and begin a transfusion to replace the blood in order to prevent bleeding out. There was some swelling, but I was able to open a little more to allow for that,” Dr. Stanley paused. I hated the pause. The pause meant there was more to say that he didn’t know how to say. Like the quiet before the storm, I felt like the pause was that moment of truth in which he could no longer hold back information that we didn’t want to hear. My entire body went into overdrive, preparing myself to take in the most horrible words that the human mouth could ever utter. But I was afraid because I knew no matter how high I built those emotional walls, there was no way to keep the blow from knocking them down. And Dr. Stanley continued before I could even fully steel myself. “Overall, I would consider this surgery a success, and all that’s left to do is wait until Nick wakes up to determine our next steps in treatment.”

He’d delivered the good news so quickly that I almost couldn’t comprehend the words. I’d been so busy bracing myself for the worst possible outcome that I had to mentally break down the walls I’d built in order to react to the good.

Apparently the other guys did too, because there was a long moment of silent, dumbfounded looks all around and then Kevin leaped up from his chair and pulled Dr. Stanley into a bear hug. “Thank you,” he said, voice thick and tearful.

I sat there, stunned, as Howie did the fist-pump thing and AJ yelped out a couple thankful F-bombs while Brian took his turn embracing Dr. Stanley and Kevin got out his phone to text Kristin. I felt so relieved and so terrified at the same time.

The most selfish part of me was wondering if, without the tumor, he’d still love me when he woke up.

And my stunned feeling didn’t go away.

“When can we see him?” Howie asked.

With a clearing of his throat, Dr. Stanley said, “Well… Jaymie.” I looked up at him. “I can bring you up to the recovery room, but the rest of you will have to wait here until we’re sure he’s stable and we can bring him down.”

The guys looked around at me.

My mouth was dry. “Me?”

Dr. Stanley nodded. “Nick specifically asked to have you there when he woke up.”

I stood up numbly. “Okay,” my voice shook.

I stepped forward to follow Dr. Stanley. Brian stopped me. “Tell him we’re here,” he said.

“Okay,” I said.

And the guys watched as Dr. Stanley led me into the hallway, past the elevators and through the double doors to the surgical wing, where we stopped at several sanitizing stations along the way. Every step brought me closer to Nick and made my heart rate go a little crazier. When we reached the room, Dr. Stanley paused outside. He looked at me for a moment, his hand on the knob.

“We shaved his head,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered.

“There’s a large incision,” Dr. Stanley said, “Stretching from here… to here…” he indicated on his own head. “There are stitches. It’s not pretty. We’ve got it covered up to an extent, but it needed to breathe for a little bit before being completely bandaged, so it’s not entirely out of view.”

I nodded. I hadn’t thought about stitches. I was glad he’d thought to warn me.

“Okay. If you’re ready?” Dr. Stanley asked.

“I’m ready,” I whispered.

He pushed open the door to the little room. Inside, a nurse was taking vitals, holding Nick’s wrist. He lay there in the bed, still out, his head rolled to the side. I was very thankful that Dr. Stanley had warned me about the stitches - even more so than I’d been moments before. It was a horrible sight, that stitching across his head. I was just thankful Nick wasn’t awake for the reaction. I could feel my guts turn inside out. And not because he was ugly - I stand by my proclamation that nothing could make that boy ugly - but it was still shocking to see. I gasped and covered my mouth.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Stanley said.

I nodded, feeling ashamed that there were tears burning the backs of my eyelids.

“I’m not sure how long it’ll be before he wakes up,” Dr. Stanley explained, and he checked a couple numbers on the machines connected to Nick and leaned over to inspect the stitching on his head for a moment. “He’s doing very well,” he assured me. He took a chair from the corner and pulled it over beside Nick’s bed and smiled, like he was trying to tell me everything would be alright. He reached for the nurse call button and handed it to me. “If you need anything,” he said, and with that he left the room.

I stared at the nurse call button for a couple minutes, then studied the pattern on the blanket that covered Nick’s legs, actively trying not to look at Nick’s head. Then I took a deep breath and I looked and my stomach kind of twisted again and I looked away. I put the call button on the edge of the bed and took his hand instead. It felt heavy with the weight of sleep and inanimation and I rubbed my fingers over his knuckles.

I sat there what felt like forever, driving myself crazy, trying to figure out if he’d wake up loving me or if he’d have come to his senses and realized the feelings he’d had were manufactured by mutated cells.

“Since you’re asleep and all,” I mumbled, “I thought I’d tell you that if you wake up and don’t love me anymore, I’ll still love you.” I licked my lips. “I didn’t think we’d ever get here. I didn’t think I loved you. Not like this.” I took a deep breath. I could feel tears falling across my face. I didn’t want to be crying when he woke up, I wanted to be smiling, I wanted to be that bright spot that made him glad he’d woken up. “Ugh. This is stupid, you can’t hear me, and even if you could, I almost wouldn’t want you to hear me saying this. I’m an idiot, falling in love with a god like you. Jesus Christ, and I really believed you loved me. Me. Like you’d stoop this low.” I laughed quietly. “My mom used to say why buy the cow when the milk is free, and I am your cow, aren’t I?” I shook my head. “It took a brain tumor messing up your head and all those weird chemically things up there that make you you in order for you to love me. And it turns out I’ve really loved you all along, whatever I’ve told myself about not wanting a fairy tale ending with you.” I turned his hand over and ran my finger along the lifeline of his palm, and to my surprise, his fingers curled to hold onto my finger.





Nick

My eyes and mouth felt glued shut. I struggled against my eyelids, trying desperately to open them, but they felt so heavy, I could only manage to lift them just enough that a little bit of light and color, too bright, came in. I let them drop closed. My mouth felt thick, like I’d swallowed a bottle of Elmer’s glue and it’d settled around my tongue and lips and teeth. I moved my tongue in the cavern of my mouth. I might as well have been trying to move a piece of heavy machinery.

“Nick?”

I forced my eyelids open again, just barely wider than I had before. Jaymie was right there.

There were tear stains on her cheeks.

“Look at you!” she said, her voice sounding funny, “You’re awake.”

I blinked against the brightness of the room, trying to focus. My limbs felt disconnected and far away. I wanted to say something amazing and witty, but I couldn’t think of anything. “J-- aymie,” I stammered. The words barely moved through my throat, it was so dry.

“I’m here,” Jaymie whispered. She reached up and put her hand against my cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Water?”

She pressed the nurse’s call button with her free hand, her other hand smoothing my cheek with her knuckles gently. “I’m not sure you’re allowed just yet, but I’ll get Dr. Stanley.” She stared down in my face, and the way she was leaning the light overhead reflected off those dried tears and I could see the worry that had hung in her eyes, being relieved by a new rush of tears. I hated making her feel afraid, hated seeing what I was doing to her.

“D- don’t cry,” I gasped the words out.

“I’m just so happy you’re okay,” she replied. She stared into my eyes. “You don’t know how scared I was… I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t okay.”

But I’m not always gonna be okay, I wanted to say, You heard Dr. Stanley, even with the surgery and the radiation and the chemo and the whatever the hell else they do to me, I still only have eighteen months. At best.

What’ll you do then?

“I don’t know what the world would be like without Nick Carter,” she said.

“Q- quieter,” I mumbled.

Jaymie breathed a laugh.

“Less s-sexy,” I added.

The tears sat on Jaymie’s cheeks. “The shaved head look does work well for you,” she said.

“Of c-course,” I said, “Every l-look w-orks for me.” I tried to smile, but I could barely make my cheeks move. I could feel the corners of my mouth struggling to form the smile, but it just couldn’t quite form.

“That’s so very true,” she whispered. Jaymie smiled.

Now that’s more like it, I thought. Enough of this me-making-you-cry stuff.