Wish Upon a Star (22 page)

"Can I come in?"

I scrambled to clear my things from the other chair.
"Absolutely. Here, sit down."

She hesitated a moment and ran her hands down her jeans
before easing into the seat. Without looking at me, she rummaged
through her purse and pulled out a bottled water and a battered
copy of
Emma
.

"That's Annie's favorite book. Did you know that?"

"Uh huh. We talked books a lot during chemo. She let me
borrow it. Thought I'd read it today for luck."

Annie and Staci had become close over the past few months,
but I hardly knew the girl. The fact she was willing to come to the
hospital and wait with me spoke volumes, both of her friendship
with Annie and her integrity. It couldn't be easy for any teen to
spend time in the hospital, but here she was.

"Um Staci, thanks a million for coming. I appreciate it and
it'll make Annie feel good, I'm sure."

She waved my thanks away. "No big. I promised her I'd be
here. And she said you'd need looking after. She mentioned
something about making sure you didn't spill anything on
yourself."

The blank look on Staci's face made it clear she had no
knowledge of my Great Thanksgiving Spillage Incident, so with a
laugh I told her about it. By the time I finished, she was giggling and
shaking her head.

We passed the time getting to know each other better. Staci
had finally completed her chemo treatments the week before and
was hopeful she finally had the cancer beat. She was still very weak
and tired easily. Her goal was to feel good enough to return to school
in the fall. That sounded encouraging.

Before I knew it, Dr. Furman had returned. Staci was kind
enough to suddenly need to get herself something to drink. As soon
as she was out of earshot, Dr. Furman sat down.

"The surgery went well. Doctor Henderson is finishing up
her part now. If it wasn't for the markers, we wouldn't have been
able to locate where the tumors had been."

My heart leapt. "Does that mean the cancer's gone?"

"We don't know yet. We removed a number of lymph nodes.
We'll test them to see how far the cancer progressed into her lymph
system. The hope is that the last nodes we removed will be clear of
evidence of the cancer. If that's the case, then yes, I'll feel confident
she's cancer-free."

Cancer-free.

I grabbed on to the words like they were a life preserver and
I was abandoned in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. "How long will it
be until we get the test results back?"

"Let's see, today's Wednesday. We should have preliminary
results back the first part of next week, with final results toward the
end of the week."

I sent up a silent thank you to the man upstairs and sat back
in my chair.

"Do you have any other questions I can answer?"

With a shake of my head, I smiled. "I probably will later, but
I can't think of anything now."

The doctor stood. "I understand. Doctor Henderson will stop
by in a little bit."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Staci was back. I gave her
a thumbs up, then shook Doctor Furman's hand. "Thank you so
much. I can't tell you how much we appreciate all you've done for
Annie."

The doctor had a brief conversation with Staci on her way
out which resulted in a big smile from Annie's young friend. She
bopped in and hugged me.

"So she's going to be okay?"

Once I recovered from the unexpected hug, we exchanged a
high-five. "We won't know for sure until the results from the lymph
node tests are back, but things look promising."

She ripped open a bag of chips. "Excellent. Can I see her
before I go home? Annie promised me I could."

"Far be it from me to contradict what the boss says."

Staci was giving me the latest gossip on some of the
Cassandra Lawrence fan web sites when Doctor Henderson
arrived.

"We're finished. Both procedures went flawlessly. Annie's in
recovery now. She'll be moved to a room shortly. We'll let you know
when you can see her. She'll be pretty groggy tonight, but if all is
well, she can go home tomorrow."

I gave Doctor Henderson my heartiest thanks and got busy
texting people that Annie was out of surgery. Just as Staci beat me for
the third time in a row at checkers, a nurse stopped by told us she'd
been moved out of recovery and we could see her.

The sight when I walked into her room broke my heart.

Annie was unconscious. She looked like a six-year-old child
in the massive hospital bed. Her lips were chapped and she had an
oxygen tube attached to her nose. A nurse came in and checked a
couple of things before bustling out with barely a nod to us.

Staci went to the bed and removed her bandanna. She
slipped it onto Annie's head and patted her shoulder. With a sigh, she
looked at me.

"I better get going. Can I come see her when she gets
home?"

"Any time you want. She'll be glad to see you."

Staci gave me a hug and slipped out the door. I scanned the
room. A machine was monitoring her heart rate, blood pressure and
a few other things I didn't understand. Unable to escape a feeling
that I was about as useful as a rubber duckie on the moon, I slumped
into a chair.

And waited.

After an hour or so, Annie began to move her head and
mumble. I couldn't understand anything she was saying, so with an
edge of panic hanging over me, I hit the call button.

A middle-aged looking woman dressed in sky blue scrubs
came in a minute later. With a comforting smile, she introduced
herself and checked on Annie.

"The anesthesia's wearing off. She'll be pretty incoherent for
a while, but she's fine. I'll bring in some ice chips and water. Once she
wakes up enough, she'll be thirsty."

As the evening wore on, I split my time between feeding
Annie ice chips and responding to text and email well-wishes. She
was still pretty loopy while she slurped her way through dinner, so I
didn't take offense when she kept forgetting my name.

She fell asleep shortly after dinner. When there was no
doubt she was gone for the night, the nurse suggested I head home
and get a good night's sleep. With a heartfelt thank you, I politely
declined. I couldn't leave her side.

A gentle shake on my shoulder startled me. It was Miranda.
"When did you get here?"

"Come on, E.J. Time go to home."

I rubbed my eyes as I sat up in the visitor's chair. "Guess I
fell asleep. What time is it?"

"After ten. Let's go before we wake her."

I went to the bed and stroked Annie's arm. "Thanks, but I
think I should stay."

Miranda frowned and nodded toward the door. I followed
her into the hall. A nurse was going from room to room, but
otherwise, all was quiet.

"Annie will be fine. It's not like she's a premature baby in the
ICU. You need a good night's rest so you can help her after she's been
discharged. So come on, it's time to head home."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Look, I know she's not a
baby, and I know she told me this morning it was okay if I went
home, and I know they'll take good care of her." My voice cracked.
"But I just can't leave her."

Miranda stared at the floor, her foot tracing a square on the
tile floor. A machine down the hall beeped and she raised her head.
"Then look it at it this way. Think about your letting-go process.
That's something to be proud of. And tonight is another test of that.
You just let Annie go for a couple of weeks and survived." She
bumped me on the shoulder. "I think you can let her go for one
night."

I shuffled my feet and looked around. "God, I hate this. But
you're right. Let me get my backpack." I gathered my things and
made sure Miranda was safely in her car before I asked her my
question.

"You know I really appreciate you coming by, but just out of
curiosity, did someone put you up to this?"

A ghost of a smile grew across her lips. "Let's just say the
possibility was raised that you might want to stay by Annie's side all
night." She started the engine. "Good night, E.J. Text me when you
guys get home tomorrow."

I stopped for a burger and fries on the way home and picked
at them in front of the TV. A worry-induced lead stone in my gut had
killed my appetite. No matter what I tried, I couldn't shake the
feeling that I'd failed Annie. A few recorded episodes of The Colbert
Report didn't help me feel better, so I threw the dinner in the trash
and went to bed.

While I stared at the semicircular pattern in the bedroom
ceiling, visions of Annie alone in that hospital bed bubbled to the
surface. Despite the long term benefit of the surgery, it still felt like
incredible violence had been inflicted upon her. And I hadn't been
able to do a damn thing to help her.

When sleep eventually came, I dreamt I was back in the
peloton. The road had just turned upward and I'd been cranking the
pedals in an attempt to keep pace. Despite my efforts, the group
pulled away as if it was powered by a jet engine and I was powered
by a watch battery.

I glanced to the sky. The mountaintop finish line was
shrouded in clouds. I pounded my fist on my handlebar. Just when I
thought I'd slipped back into the comfort of the group, it had
dropped me like a wet paper towel. The broom wagon followed five
feet behind me, its horn blaring, a constant beep, beep, beep urging
me to abandon the race...

I bolted upright and turned off the alarm. My head was
throbbing like a bass drum. Despite the lousy night's sleep and my
feelings of utter worthlessness, it was time to get my act together
and bring my North Star home.

By the time I got to the hospital, Dr. Furman had already
approved her discharge. The nurse ran us through a practice session
so we would know how to manage the four drains that had been left
in her to allow post-operative fluid to be released.

Once we got home, she spent the day resting on the couch.
The pain meds left her groggy enough that half the time I checked on
her, she was sleeping. Miranda came to visit the following day, which
gave me time to run errands without freaking out that I was leaving
Annie unattended. She also helped Annie change her dressings while
I was gone.

I don't know if I was angry or happy that Miranda helped
Annie with her bandages. On the one hand, I was Annie's fiancé and I
didn't care what she looked like. I loved her unconditionally, and
some post-surgical scarring wouldn't have bothered me. On the
other hand, maybe Annie wasn't ready for me to see her
post-operation chest. We didn't discuss it. She didn't offer, and I didn't
ask.

It seemed better for the both of us to leave it alone.

A couple of days later, I was on the patio, giving Samantha
an update on Annie's condition, when she slid the patio door open.
With a grimace, she sat and waited with her hands folded in her lap
while I finished my call. When I signed off, she cleared her
throat.

"E.J. honey, I need to change my dressings. Will you help
me?" A loose thread of her shorts must have been fascinating,
because she kept picking at it.

Hope you're ready for this, dude
. "Sure, how can I
help?" I gave her my best smile. It wasn't anywhere as great as
Annie's heart-melting one, but it was as good as I could manage.

Her cheeks bloomed a pinkish shade. "You're sure? I mean,
you don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to." I got up and offered her my hand. "I
want to. We're in this together, right?"

She stood and took it. "Right."

Once we were in the bathroom, Annie slipped out of her
T-shirt. She was covered in gauze wrapping from just below her
armpits to a few inches above her belly button. She took a pair of
surgical scissors and cut the tape.

She rested her hands on the top of her head while I removed
her wrapping. I wanted to stop for a second to prepare myself for
what I was going to see, but I kept going. I could handle this. It was
nothing compared to what Annie had to be dealing with.

Her shoulders rose a little bit as the last of the wrapping fell
away. Her hands went to her chest. I rested my hands on her
shoulders and turned her around as gently as possible. Once she was
facing me, I looked down to her chest.

It was flat, with two flame red suture lines running
horizontally across her where her breasts had been. Her head was
bowed. With my index finger, I lifted her chin and looked into her
eyes. They were watery. I brushed my lips against hers and gave her
shoulders a little squeeze.

"I look hideous."

"No you don't. You look like a woman who did what she had
to do. And I love you all the more for it."

Annie didn't say anything, but her lips curled up a little
while she reached for the clean gauze. Maybe we'd taken another
step forward together.

I took my time re-wrapping her. I'd had plenty of experience
with gauze during my racing days, but this wasn't the time to be in a
rush.

With each pass, I gave her a light kiss on the head. She gave
my hand a squeeze when I told her I was done.

When the wrapping was finished, I helped her strip and
empty the drain lines, too. "Teamwork, baby," she said with a fist
bump when we were back on the patio.

Miranda stopped by a few days later to drop off a casserole
and to take a peek at Annie's stitches. I got the impression she was
checking on Annie's emotional state as well. As incredible as my
beloved's talents as a musician and a songwriter were, there was no
denying Cassandra's history as a sex symbol. While she hadn't done
any professional modeling, she'd never had any problem wearing
slinky outfits, especially low cut numbers that showed off curves that
were no longer there.

The day before, I'd noticed her taking a lot of time flipping
through the closet. This morning I'd found a pile of her clothes—a
handful dresses and a dozen or so tight fitting tops—piled in a corner
of the spare bedroom.