Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6) (30 page)

K
im

So I hadn't exactly lied to Mal, but I hadn't told him everything.

At the time, I felt I was enough trouble already and was afraid he'd go running in the other direction. In hindsight, I should've given him that choice. I can't explain this one away with vague references and blatant omissions.

"That was Naomi," I point out the obvious in an attempt to delay and his raising of one eyebrow high, tells me he knows it. "She, uhh... got a call from the radiologist's office. They apologized, said my report had been misplaced, that they should've called sooner." The intensity of his eyes on mine and the tight clench of his jaw make me hesitate.

"Go on," he prods.

"She wants me to meet her at the hospital in Cortez. She's set up an appointment with a surgeon."

"Why?" he bites out, struggling to maintain his composure and frankly, mine was gone five minutes ago. My entire body is shaking like a leaf and I'm afraid if I don't cry soon, my eyeballs will explode.

"They found something growing on my thyroid." Naomi had actually used the word 'tumor' but I can't bring myself to say it.

I'm so lost in my own head that it takes me a moment to realize that Mal has gone silent. A glance in his direction finds him looking at me studiously, as if waiting for me to give him more information. There is none. "Let's get you looked after." That's all he says, turning the key in the ignition and steering the truck back on the road. I'm confused and mostly want to puke, but I'm holding it together. Barely. It doesn't help that Malachi seems as far removed from me as he was that first time I saw him in Arlene's diner. A stranger. The only emotion he's showing is the slight twitch of a muscle by his jaw. I feel utterly lost.

-

I
have no idea how long the drive to Cortez was, but I haven't really seen or registered anything until I notice us pulling into a parking spot at the hospital. Mal walks me in, with his hand at the small of my back. The moment Naomi sees us walk in, she moves away from the nurse's station where she was chatting.

"So glad you're here. Dr. Mitcham is just finishing in the OR but suggested we use his office. Come with me." I start to follow Naomi right away but notice Mal's hand is not at my back anymore. Stopping I turn around to find him standing by the nurse's station, looking after us.

"Hold up," I call out to Naomi as I retrace my steps and stop in front of a stoic looking Malachi. "Why aren't you coming?"

He looks pained, his mouth a thin line, and his face good enough to beat out a poker game, but his eyes—his eyes swirl with dark emotion. "I don't think—" he starts, but I don't want to hear it. I need him with me.

"Please..." My plea sounds breathless, terrified of having to face what is coming on my own. Mal rubs both hands over his face before he reaches out for mine and interlocks our fingers.

"Let's go," he says resolutely.

"Have a seat." Naomi gestures to the couch against the wall of the office she just showed us into. She turns one of the visitor's chairs in front of the desk around and sits down, facing us. "I'll start with the good news. You have what I suspected, Hashimoto's disease. It is an autoimmune disorder that affects your thyroid gland and wreaks havoc on your hormone levels. It is the culprit for many seemingly unrelated symptoms, but it can most definitely be regulated. Unfortunately, it is also a condition that leaves you prone to other autoimmune disorders, and some cases, to tumors. Thyroid lymphoma is a pretty rare complication, but it happens."

My hand has stayed clasped in Mal's while Naomi is talking, and at her last words, I feel his fingers clench around mine. I'm not really processing what I'm hearing. My mind is stuck on tumors and lymphoma.

Naomi pauses and looks at both of us. "So far any questions?"

Neither of us move, too stunned, too scared, too confused. Any of those or all.

"When we spotted a shadow on the ultrasound, I was already suspecting Hashimoto's but was thrown off a bit by that result. The MRI was necessary to confirm a mass and the placement of that mass." She leans forward and grabs my free hand. "You definitely have an abnormal mass on your thyroid, but we can't identify what it is or how to treat it unless we do a biopsy. Now because of the placement of the tumor, it may be difficult to do a needle biopsy, which is why I've called in—"

A very tall, thin, older man in scrubs, with grey hair and glasses walks in and straight over to shake hands. "Hi there, I'm Dr. Mitcham. Dr. Waters filled me in on your case. Did she have a chance to go everything with you?"

"I was actually just going to explain why a needle biopsy is not necessarily helpful for her," Naomi tells him.

He sits down behind his desk and turns to us. "Where the mass is located is a difficult area to obtain an accurate needle biopsy from, so I recommend surgically removing it. For two reasons, actually. To be able to send all of the tissue for a proper pathology to be done and because even if the tumor turns out to be benign, it's size and location would likely interfere with the proper functioning of your thyroid. We need to get it out, and I'd like to do it soon."

I'm struggling to catch up with this wave of information when I hear Mal speak up beside me.

"How soon?"

"In four days. I have a Tuesday eight AM slot that just opened up and I've pencilled you in."

M
al

I hate fucking hospitals.

That's flashing in my mind as Kim and I walk, dazed, toward my truck. Neither of us has said much, although her hand is clutching mine like it's her lifeline. Numb would probably be a better description for what I'm feeling, but underneath, I can feel anger and fear fighting to break through. Without a word, I help Kim up into the passenger seat, get myself behind the wheel and drive off.

The trip back to Cedar Tree is made in silence and when we pull up to Caleb and Katie's place to pick up Boo, Kim is out of the truck and rushing to the front door before I have a chance to get out of my seat. When I catch up to her she's sitting on the floor of the entrance, her arms around Boo's neck and her face buried in his fur. My brother and his wife look a little shocked, watching her.

"What's going on?" Caleb mouths at me when I bend over to pick Kim up off the floor. It takes a small battle of wills when Boo decides that moment to become protective and growl at me. With hierarchical balance restored, Boo tentatively looks on as I pick a sobbing Kim up and carry her to the couch. Katie is there in an instant, wrapping Kim in her arms. I tuck my hands in my pockets, not sure what I'm supposed to do next. Up until about an hour ago, I had been so sure of what my role is, where I belong. Now, I'm at a loss.

"Come with me," Caleb firmly orders as he walks past me outside. I follow him to the picnic table under the trees where we sit down and stare out at the beautiful view. "Talk to me," he urges. "What is happening here? Did things not go well with her mother?"

I shake my head, not sure how to explain. Not sure if I want to say the things I'm feeling out loud. Makes it too fucking real.

"Mal," Caleb softly pleads.

I take a deep breath and just like that, the shield of numbness cracks and the pain, fear and anger bleed out. "She lied." My voice cracks on emotion. "She said the MRI was just routine, but she lied. I knew something was off, I fucking knew it." I drop my head in my hands and instantly feel Caleb's hand come to rest on top of it.

"Brother," he says softly, instant understanding in his voice. He would, he lived through it just like me. "She has can—"

"Don't fucking say it!" I yell, snapping my head up. "I can't...I just can't." I push away from the table and start walking to the truck. I can't talk about it or it will be real. More real than I can handle. But before I have a chance to open the door, I'm swung around and pinned against the door by my brother's weight, his face right in mine.

"You're not doing this. You're not running. Not this time, Malachi. You're not twelve, this is
not
history repeating itself. You hear me? Neither of us are running. This time we're gonna stand together and fight. You with me?" He slams my back into the side of the truck with every new sentence and it feels like every emotion inside me is dislodged. A raw yell bursts free, and instantly, I'm folded into my brother's arms. His voice firm in my ear. "She doesn't know, does she? Your Kimeo, she doesn't know how your life—hell, our lives—got ripped apart when cancer took Nasha How our family was left raw and seeping like a festering sore in the aftermath. How love was turned into a destructive emotion and something to be feared." I hear the emotion tear at my brother's voice as he remembers too, watching my sister slip away so quickly, we never had time to adjust.

"I haven't had a fucking chance to."

"Talk to me," Caleb says, slinging his arm around me and walking me back to where we were sitting before.

So I do. I tell him about the MRI and how sick and scared she'd been and how I should've clued in it was more than
routine
. I tell him what little I've managed to glean from her in terms of her health issues and how she's been very reluctant in sharing. Of course, Caleb points out that what goes for the goose, goes for the gander and that I can't in all fairness expect her to be an open book when I haven't even told her about my own sordid history, my family, my sister's death, the dark path I followed after that. And he's right, of course he's right. Then comes Naomi's phone call and our meeting with her and the surgeon.

"Wait. So let me get this straight, they don't know if it's cancer yet?" Caleb asks, surprise on his face.

"They need to remove the tumor in order to do a reliable pathology, the surgeon said. But I have this gut feel—" A sharp jab on my shoulder cuts me off mid-sentence.

"Fuck your gut feeling," Caleb bites off, his face angry now. "For once, feel with your heart, not your head or your damn gut. When it comes to people you love, your 'gut' seems to be in a constant state of denial. You know this. Smarten the fuck up and start praying instead of picking the worst goddamn scenario possible!" He emphasizes that with a smack upside my head.

"She lied," I try, but Caleb's right on top of that.

"She omitted some details. Minor infraction compared to you keeping your whole fucking life from her."

I lower my eyes from his challenging glare. Truth is, I know this isn't really about lying, or omitting or whatever. I'm scared—of more than just cancer. I'm scared I won't be able to give her the support she needs if that's what this turns out to be. I'm scared I can't live up to the man I want to be for her. I'm scared she will be alone worrying about her mother, about herself, when I fail her. I'm scared to lose her...

I can deal with the people who are out to harm her. But how do I fight an enemy I can't see, don't understand and can't control?

K
im

"
Shhhh
," Katie's voice quiets me as deep sobs have turned into silent tears that don't seem to want to dry up. She sits down beside me on the couch, pushes a mug of something warm in my hands and instructs me to take a sip. Warm, sweet tea with milk. It soothes and slowly relaxes the hold panic has on my chest. "Now talk," she says.