Authors: D.nichole King
Damian inhaled deeply. “Not better, but at least not worse. I guess that’s improvement.” He kissed my head. “I hate to admit it, but he’s got a point. Maybe it’s best if you don’t come here unless it’s necessary.”
“I just wanted to see you.”
That adorable impish gleam sparkled in his eye. “How about you come over to my house for a swim tomorrow? I’ll make up something to stay home.”
I bit my lip and sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not supposed to leave the house.”
“It’s just me, and I see you in the evenings anyway.”
My shoulders fell. “My parents
said—”
“Do you always listen to your parents?”
I shifted my gaze to the floor. “I can’t.”
“Rules are meant to be broken,
Kate.”
“Not for me,” I
said softly.
“You don’t have to be the perfect daughter all the time.”
“Yes, I do.”
Damian crossed his arms waiting for me to explain.
I pursed my lips together. “My parents gave up everything for me when I was diagnosed. They quit their jobs in Nebraska, sold our house, put Granny in a nursing home, and moved here so I’d be under your father’s care. I can’t disappoint them.” Unable to stop them, the tears began to slip out. “They never counted on having a broken daughter.”
“Ah, shit,” Damian muttered, folding his arms around me. “You’re not broken, baby. You could never disappoint anyone.”
He snuggled me into his chest. I sobbed into his shirt, feeling his warmth surround me. He pressed his lips on my head.
“Come on. You’re gonna be late.” He pulled back and wiped the tears from my cheeks.
“Yeah.” I sniffled and forced a smile. “We have to go all the way next door.”
Damian took my hand and walked with me to the chemo room where Leslie was unhooking a little boy at the end of his treatment. The child’s eyes were sunken in, and he looked pale. He still had a full head of hair.
Damian stood frozen in the doorway, shock visible in his sapphire eyes. I squeezed his hand once before letting go and walking over the boy. He couldn’t be older than nine.
“Hey, there,” I
said, smiling at him. “I’m Kate.”
“Hi. I’m Brennan,” he said in a raspy voice.
I ruffled his hair. “Hang in there, bud. Leslie’s a great nurse.”
I didn’t see Damian come up next to me. “And you have a good doctor, kid.”
Brennan nodded, then walked over to where his mother and Leslie were speaking.
“That was a nice thing to say,” I
said, looking up at Damian.
He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
When Leslie finished with Brennan’s mother, she inserted the chemo tubes into my central line. “Thanks for your help today, Damian.”
I shot him a quick glance.
“Sure,” he said. “No problem.”
“Apple or orange,
Kate?” Leslie asked.
“Apple.”
“Be right back.” She walked out the door.
“What was that about?” I asked as soon as Leslie had left.
“I don’t know. Just doing my job.”
I stared at him but decided not to probe. I searched for a deck of Rook cards in my purse, and we had time for half a hand before Leslie returned with my juice.
“Anything else?” she asked, looking not only at me, but also at Damian.
We both shook our heads.
“I’ll be out here if you need me.”
Damian and I played cards for a while until I asked, “Could you please find me some crackers? My stomach is turning.”
“Sure.” He gave me a swift kiss and left for the cafeteria.
As soon as he was gone, I stood up and walked to the door, peeking out. I saw him round the corner
toward the elevators. After a couple minutes, my pole and I sauntered to the nurses’ station. I felt like a spy, my eyes darting around to make sure he had left.
Leslie glanced up from her paperwork, eyeing me suspiciously. “I just saw Damian walk by?”
“Yeah. I don’t have much time,” I whispered. “Why did you thank him? What did he do?”
Leslie grinned. “Curious, are we? He helped me clean up after a little girl in the chemo room today. Then he took her to the Commons and played Wii with her until her treatment was over. He’s becoming a real asset around here. You’re changing him,
Katie.”
December 13
Dear Diary,
Leslie said I’m changing Damian, which is good, right? So why do I feel so confused? Are my feelings for him genuine? Am I harboring some idea that I can fix him? If I am, is that necessarily a bad thing?
Yes, it is.
“Dad expected me to take Liam’s place. Become who he was. Instead, I became everything my brother wasn’t.”
“
You don’t expect me to be someone I’m not.”
I don’t look at him and see Liam, true. Then, what do I see?
The pressure is too much. Maybe that’s why I feel miserable. Everyone’s depending on me, and I don’t know if I can deliver. I try not to show how scared I am.
Ever since the flu, the headaches have been getting worse. I’m hanging onto the hope that they’re just left over from the virus. But I can’t get all the
“what if’s” out of my mind.
What if I fail?
What if hope isn’t enough?
What if all my fighting
isn’t
worth it, and I’m lying on my death bed?
What if I let everyone down?
I play with the necklace Damian gave me. Hope. It’s easy to believe that hope
is
enough and everything I’m going through
is
worth it when Dr. Lowell declares remission, or even maintenance. I reach out my hand and try to grasp it, but I never seem to be able to hold on.
Why does another remission seem like a fairytale that I won’t obtain?
~*
~
I called my mom at work to ask if she’d seen my black knit hat. It was on my head, but I needed confirmation that she wouldn’t come home early.
“See you after my treatment. Bye
, Mom,” I said, hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath.
I ran to the living room to make sure everything was ready.
Blanket, check.
Pillows, check.
Stuffed picnic basket, check.
Yep, everything seemed set. I paced the kitchen,
searching for things to do while I waited. The clock took forever to flip one minute. I even considered moving the clocks forward to ease my nerves.
I was so busy being paranoid that I didn’t hear Damian’s BMW
pull into the driveway. He opened the front door, and I screamed.
“Jumpy, huh?” His dimples deepened.
My heart rate hadn’t slowed.
“Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Sorry I scared you.”
He leaned down and kissed me. I jerked back and glared at him.
“Have you been drinking?”
Damian shrugged. “One beer in the car. No big deal.”
I took a step back. “While you were
driving
?”
“One,
Kate. One. It was a rough day. Lay off a bit, will ya?”
His tone cut through me, and I dropped my
gaze.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
I lifted my eyes to meet his. His lower lip curled between his teeth.
“Just, please don’t drink and drive, okay?”
He shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”
So not convincing. I’d broken the rules by inviting him over, and I didn’t want to fight.
Without taking his hand, I led him to the living room for a candle-lit picnic lunch. He sat across from me, nursing his Coke. I laid out our sandwiches on paper plates and tried to act girlfriendy—whatever that meant.
“You had a bad day?” I tried to sound casual, but it came out rather timidly.
Damian scratched his unshaven jaw. “I didn’t sleep well. And El…A friend called. It didn’t end well.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
I nodded. “Sure. Yeah, okay.”
I took a bite of my sandwich and stared off to a spot on the wall. We sat in uncomfortable silence until Damian pushed his plate away, blew out the candle and stood up. I felt defeated. Setting my food down, I slid my knees to my chest, and rested my head over my arms. My jaw trembled as I fought the tears.
Seconds later, Damian slipped his arms around me from behind. His nuzzled his head against my neck.
“It’s not you. I’m being an ass, and I’m sorry.”
He kissed my neck, and the
tears started to fall. I turned my face to him and folded my arms around him, digging my face into his chest. He chuckled as he kissed the top of my head.
“Why do girls
cry so much?”
I let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know.”
~*
~
I had a headache again on Friday, so I spent the evening in my room wrapped in Damian’s arms. His fingers glided over my skin, comforting me. Somehow, him being there made the headache easier to deal with. I just hoped it was a one night thing.
Since I lost our
Mario Kart
game, Damian planned a Christmas dinner date for us on Saturday at his house. My parents, thankfully, agreed. I was desperate to get out of my cell.
Just after watching the sunrise, I sifted through the clothes in my closet trying to figure out what to wear. I yanked a blue floral dress from its hanger and tried it on.
“Blech!”
I tossed it on the bed.
Maybe a skirt?
My jean skirt seemed too informal, my petti too girly, and the long black one had a hole in it. They all landed on my bed with the dress. Next I tried on my favorite black dress. The bodice fit snuggly around my central line, digging it into my chest.
At ten in the morning, my closet was empty and my bed cluttered.
“Ahhh!” I screamed, digging through my bottom
dresser drawer.
Moments later, my mother knocked
on the door and poked her head in.
“Uh…” she
drawled, her eyes widening at the mess.
“I have nothing to wear tonight. Absolutely nada.” I lay back on the floor with my hands over my head. “I can’t go.”
Mom lowered herself to her knees and bent over me, grinning at me upside down. “You want me to go to the mall? Pick something out?” Her smile seemed genuine, but a flicker in her irises made me pause.
She shifted her
gaze to the pile of clothes on my bed. “I’m sure we can scrounge up some money to buy you a dress for tonight. It’s supposed to be special, right?”
“Yes.” I drug the word out. Something wasn’t right here.
“Then you need to look special for it.” Her eyes met mine again, and she showed off too many teeth.
“Uh-huh.” I sat up. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re acting…odd.”
“No. I’m just excited for you!”
“Uh-huh,” I
said again, only half-believing her. “Why don’t I come with you, Mom?”
Her face
turned serious. “Katie, I really think after your headache yesterday you need to rest up for this evening. Don’t you?”
I hated that she had a point, but she was definitely hiding something. “Fine.”
Mom beamed, and she scurried down the stairs. I swept the clothes off my bed and collapsed on the comforter, not realizing how exhausted I was. Cuddling up with my pillow to rest for a few minutes, I drifted off.
~*~
“Kate.”
Mom’s voice woke me up. I sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from my
eyes. In her hand, she held up a beautiful red taffeta dress.
“Uh…”
“Isn’t it gorgeous!” My mother exclaimed, ignoring the shock on my face. “You have to try it on. Make sure it fits.”
“Uh…”
Mom frowned. “What? You don’t like it?”
“Uh…I like it,” I uttered slowly. “But it’s a little … over the top, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s perfect.” She flashed her biggest toothpaste commercial grin.
I pursed my lips together. “You’re kinda freaking me out, Mom.”
“Trust me. It’s perfect.”
“But…”
“
Perfect!
”
She hung the dress on the back of my door, then spun around before leaving. “Per-fect.”
I offered a fake smile that dropped from my face as soon as the door closed. What was she thinking?
I slipped off the bed and walked to the door. The dress
was
beautiful. I ran my fingers over the top sheer layer of the skirt. Because she’d bought it, I felt obligated to wear it. I didn’t want to disappoint her.
For the rest of the day, I did as Mom had
said and took it easy. The three of us ate lunch together, Mom and I played Rook, then I went to my room to read. At four o’clock, I hopped in the shower.
I glared at the dress on the hanger before taking it down. The halter top hid the central line sticking out of my chest perfectly. The flouncy skirt hung just above my knees. Included with the dress, Mom had bought me a new pair of red pumps.
I took extra care putting on my makeup; I might as well go all out and make it match the formal dress. I even used the glitter eye shadow I’d never opened. The doorbell rang as I spread on a layer of strawberry lip gloss. My mother hollered up the stairs.
“Coming!” I yelled back.
I wasn’t expecting anyone. The clock on my nightstand read twenty to six. I had to hurry; my car had been running, warming up, for fifteen minutes.
Mom stood at the bottom of the stairs with her camera. It flashed with each step I took.
“Really, Mom? Are you making a stop-motion video or something? ” I squinted. “It’s not prom.”
My parents exchanged looks and my dad
said, “Pretty darn close.”
Damian’s gonna laugh at me dressed like this.
I paused on the last step and allowed my mother to take a picture of me with Dad. He held me snuggly to him with a goofy grin on his face. Then he put bunny ears behind my head for the next shot. I pretended to shoot him.
When we were done being silly, he held out my black pea coat, and I slipped my arms inside. We walked arm in arm to the front door where a man in a black suit stood holding a bouquet of red roses. I studied them, trying to figure out who’d sent them, then shot a
glance to my dad.
He shrugged. “They’re not from me.”
My smile faded for a second before it broadened. I thanked the delivery man and gathered the roses in to my arms. The card attached was written in Damian’s familiar handwriting.
I can’t wait to see you.
Damian
Wow. Just … wow!
I traced my fingers over the card.
Mom reached over to take the flowers and hugged me too tight
ly. “I am coming back, you know,” I said, doing an inward eye roll.
“Have a good time, honey.” Mom beamed.
Dad squeezed me into him next and pecked me on the top of my head.
Walking out the front door, I was surprised to see the
delivery man still standing there. Did you tip flower delivery people?
“Are you ready, Miss Browdy?” he asked, a black umbrella at his side.
I toyed with the hem of my too-formal dress.
Maybe…
I skimmed my mom’s face. Her nod confirmed my suspicions.
Oh, Mom!
“This way, miss,” the
chauffer
instructed, opening the door. He stayed to the side as he opened the umbrella for me to walk under.
I stepped over the threshold and saw huge snowflakes falling from the gray skies. I started giggling, wondering if Damian had even planned the snow. Then I noticed the driveway. A black limo was parked waiting for me; my yellow car must have been moved back in the garage. My cheeks already hurt from smiling so wide.
The driver took my arm and walked me to the limousine. He opened the door, and I slid inside. I half-expected to see Damian in the seat, but instead there was another bouquet of red roses and a small white box with a red satin bow around it.
The words “OPEN NOW” were scrawled across the top.
I reached for the box as the limo backed out of the driveway. Slipping off the ribbon, I opened the lid. Inside laid an iPod and a set of earbuds. There was no note inside, so I just stuck the plugs in and pressed the screen. It lit up and a playlist entitled “For Kate” appeared on the screen. I hit play and heard Damian’s sweet voice.
“Hey
, beautiful.”
I laughed.
No way! Am I dreaming?