The room is silent again, this time tinged with our collective awe because even though Canon asked the cast and crew to get tested for matching when I needed a kidney transplant, what he just said is probably the most they’ve heard him articulate about his feelings for me.
“Wow,” Percy breathes, looking down at her phone to make sure it’s still recording. “That’s… thank you for being so forthcoming.”
“It’s not that we have anything to hide,” Canon says, squeezing my shoulder. “This is our job. This project has consumed the better part of our lives for the last year, some of us for even longer. The work, everyone’s work, should stand on its own, and not suffer any detraction because of rumor and conjecture about our personal lives.”
“I’m sorry if…” Percy bites her lip and sighs. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Everyone wonders.”
“And it’s not everyone’s business,” Trey says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “Ask any of us. Neevah and Canon have been nothing but professional. And what Neevah pulled off for this film, while managing lupus, it’s astounding.”
I squeeze his hand back and blink away tears. The whole cast has been incredibly kind. Filming literally shut down while I had a kidney transplant. All our work could have been sabotaged by my illness, but their support never wavered. I won’t forget that.
“As you can see,” I tell Percy with a wobbly smile, “we’ve become very close as a cast and makingDessi Bluehas been the best experience of my life. I wake up every day grateful for what I have, that I had lupus and it didn’t have me and it didn’t steal my lifelong dream.”
“Do you mind if I ask how you’re doing?” Percy queries, before rushing on. “If you don’t feel comfortable, it’s fine. I’ll edit the question out.”
Canon’s hand makes the subtle slide from my back to the curve of my hip, a soft squeeze of support.
“No, I’m in a really good place.” I clear my throat. “Knock on wood. I’m taking the meds recommended by my doctor. I’m pretty regimented with my diet and exercise. Stress can be a trigger for flares.”
I glance up over my shoulder at Canon where he still stands behind me, feeling the love in his eyes as if his arms are wrapped around me.
“Thus Canon’s concern about me overdoing it.” I look back to Percy, releasing anxiety in a long breath. “I definitely overdid it when we were filming, and I had a real health crisis, but I’m much better.”
“Is there anything you want others living with lupus to know?” Percy asks.
Those days in the hospital—the kidney transplant, losing my hair, lesions, dialysis—all of it rises and breaks through the surface of my thoughts. For a moment, none of this feels real. My smooth, unblemished skin. The thick luxury of my hair braided into a regal natural style. The glossy rigor of press junkets and red carpets and premieres. This feels like a fantasy that never happened. The steady beat of my heart trips, and I panic as if the reality is still me at death’s threshold, the odds stacked against me, debilitating pain and fatigue robbing me of strength.
But then…
Canon cups the side of my throat with one hand, brushing his thumb across my nape in a caress so gentle, yet firm, it anchors me in this moment. In this reality where Iwon. Where I beat the odds and lived another day to keep on fighting.
I swallow back the emotion scorching my throat to answer her question. “I want them to know that I’m no different from them, even though lupus manifests differently for us all. What I mean is, I have a diagnosis that is potentially life-threatening, but I’m still living my life. I don’t let it stop me, and I work hard at not letting it stop me. Staying on top of diet, exercise, remaining in consultation with my doctor. There may be times you don’t think you’ll make it. We live with the possibility, but welive. We find joy. We follow our dreams. Chase our passions.”
I reach up to cover Canon’s hand at my throat with my own.
“We find love.” I flash him a besotted smile and then return my attention to Percy. “We can’t control everything, every outcome. It’s futile to try, but we can live our life to the fullest. We can live with a grateful heart. We can love deeply and outrageously. Nothing and no one can take away our capacity for love.”
“Girl, stay still.”
Takira’s words come out slightly jumbled around the hairpins shoved between her lips.
“Iamstill,” I say, pouting only a little bit. “It’s taking a long time. Are we almost done?”
“What are you, six?” she teases, sliding a pin into the intricate loops of my braided updo. “It’s taking the time it takes. Beauty moves at its own pace.”
Takira meets my eyes in the hotel’s bathroom mirror. “You been squirming since you sat down in this chair. Is it impatience or nerves? Tonight is a big night, huh?”
I close my eyes and sigh. She got me. Of course, she knows. She’s seen me at every stage of my career. It’s fitting that she’s the one preparing me for my first big premiere.
“Maybe there are a few nerves.” I accompany the admission with a chagrined look. “Sorry if I’m being bratty.”
Takira scoffs and sprays sheen over the finished hairstyle. “You ’bout the least bratty chick I know. You have a lot you could complain about, Neeve, but you never do.”
Takira holds my gaze in the mirror, resting her hands on my shoulders.
“You did it,” she whispers. “And I’m so proud of you, sis.”
Tears well in my eyes because it seems like only yesterday she and I stood together in a small dressing room. I was a Broadway understudy, and she was the only one I trusted with my hair. With the truth about my condition. I had no idea the man who would change my life forever sat just beyond the curtains, waiting for me to take the stage. So much has changed, and yet Takira and me—we’re the same.
