“All this time.” I shook my head, cracking my knuckles between each finger. “Both of you have been hiding this from me.”
“You know as well as I do that it’s her right when it comes to deciding who to tell,” Mom said. This time when she raised the glass to her lips, she took a long drink. “She’s frightened, Jayce. Alone.”
“She’s not alone,” I hissed, and my mom nodded, reaching across the oak tabletop to rest one hand on top of mine.
“No, she’s not. But this is her business.”
“So what is it?” I asked. “What type of cancer? Will it kill her? What’s the survival rate? What can I do?”
“I’m sorry, Jayce,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Even now, I can’t disclose anything. You’ll have to talk to her.”
“Where is she, Mom?”
“Home, I presume,” she said, and then added softly, “She’s not scheduled to be seen today.”
“I’m going over,” I said. “I’m going to confront her.”
“Is that a good idea, Jayce?” Mom asked, and I stopped walking, hovering near the front door. “Can you handle it if she doesn’t change her mind? If she doesn’t want you around?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I have to try. I—I love her, Mom.”
My mom put her hand over her mouth in surprise, but she said nothing, only watched me go as I stepped out of the house and closed the door behind me, walking to the car. I knew where I had to go to next. I had to see Macey.
It didn’t take long to get from my mom’s house to the apartment Macey shared with her roommate, and relief pooled through me when I saw her little car sitting in the driveway. I sat there near the curb for a full minute, just staring straight out the windshield as the car idled, wondering if I was ready for this. Could I handle what was about to be thrown at me?
Shaking the doubt from my head, I pocketed my keys and crossed the lawn until I was at the door, hand raised. It trembled for a moment in the air, just hovering there, until I closed my eyes and knocked on the door.
It was probably less than five or ten seconds, but it felt like hours before the door opened and Macey appeared, her eyes going slightly wide as she stared at me from the porch.
“Jayce.”
“I know,” I said, taking a step forward until I was in the doorway to Macey’s apartment, hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jeans. She stood on the other side of the threshold, one hand on the door, the other hanging limply by her side. Her face was gaunt, hair limp, and exhaustion seemed to seep into every limb, but those brilliant eyes saw through me still, just like they always had.
“You know what?” she asked, but it wasn’t a question, not really. She knew. I knew. We both knew.
“Can I come in?”
The hesitation was brief, but serious, and I feared she might just turn me away. But she didn’t. Not this time.
“Sure, come in.” She stepped back to allow me through, into the darkness of the cold living room, shutting the door behind us. A single lamp near the sofa provided some light, but not much. On the couch, a thick, well-used throw blanket sat crumbled. A pillow, too. Ignoring these things, I turned to Macey, and only then could I finally see the truth in her eyes. The fear. The terror. The sadness, loneliness, and desperation.
She needed me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I reached out for her, and she didn’t shy away as I took her in my arms and pulled her against me, feeling her tremble beneath my touch as I rested my lips on top of her head and closed my eyes, fighting my own emotions.
“I didn’t want to drag you into this,” she said with a quiet sniffle. “I didn’t want this to hold you back from your potential.”
“Potential? What are you talking about?”
“Your baseball.” Macey pulled away from me then, forcing distance between us. “Your life. I wasn’t going to be that person, Jayce. I couldn’t be the one to take it all away from you.”
“You don’t seem to understand, baby,” I said, closing the gap between us once more. “Youare my life. You have given me everything, not taken it away.”
“Oh, God.” Macey shook her head, eyes pinned on the wall behind me. She allowed me to hold her, but she still didn’t hold me back. Not really.
“What is it?” I asked. “What kind is it?”
“Leukemia,” she said, forcing out the word like poison. “It’s aggressive, and it’s fast, and they’ve already started me on chemotherapy. It’s why I’ve had to miss classes and haven’t been able to work.”
