I laughed despite myself. “And now I only wince when I laugh. Cut it out, ass.”
“I’m just saying.” Hansen shrugged, then reached over once more, this time resting his hand on my upper leg. “You can quit the fire department, but you can’t quit me.”
“Nice,” I said, a smile playing on my lips. “Is Paisley watching re-runs of Brokeback Mountain again?”
“It’s her stress-reliever, apparently.”
“Because of the wedding?”
Hansen nodded.
“How are you both feeling about it?” I asked, knowing that despite my newfound pain and anger at the world and at myself, I couldn’t stay angry at my best friend.
“I’m ready,” said Hansen, without looking at me. Finally, he did, and the expression on his face was real. Doubtless. Hewasready. “Paisley is the best thing that ever happened to me,” he continued. “I don’t want to live another single day without her.”
“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” I joked. “The same woman, the same sex, the same bathroom habits for the rest of your life until you both die.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” joked Hansen, pulling into the hospital parking lot. He looked at me as the engine shut off. Before I could make a move to get out, however, he spoke again. “You got this, man. Don’t let it stop you, okay? You could never let me or anyone at our firehouse down.”
“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile that I could only hope was moderately convincing. What I refused to say, however, was that there was nothing in my life that frightened me more than letting my fire family down. I felt like, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, it would soon be inevitable.
I would let them down, because I was close to letting myself down, too.
Chapter4
Peyton
The waiting room in the cancer ward smelled of old magazines and cheap citrus scent. Anywhere else it might have been a pleasing smell, but here it made me sick, sicker than I already felt just sitting by myself in a waiting-room chair. Waiting to hear something, anything, fromanybody.
I was tired. After packing up my car most of the night and making negotiations with my boss, I drove to Eagle River early in the morning to find my mother not even at home, but already at the hospital. She’d stayed the night there, apparently, which made the guilt that gnawed at my conscience even worse. I should have come earlier. I should have been here weeks, maybe even months ago.
But she hadn’t told me. So here we were.
I slapped the magazine in my lap shut, realizing that I wasn’t seeing the glossy pictures or the written articles, either. I stood up from the chair, too anxious to sit still much longer, and began to pace. I was the only one around, the only person in the waiting-room, aside from the woman behind the front desk who looked like she might as well be sleeping. Maybe she was. That’s what I wanted to be doing, too.
I ducked over the water fountain for a drink, and water dribbled down my chin, spilling into the collar of my shirt. I wiped my hand over my mouth and sighed, leaning against the wall, tapping my foot anxiously against the floor. I pulled out my cell phone to check the screen. Another text from Rem.
Any news?
Nope.
Keep me in the loop. Loves.
With another breath of air between my teeth, I pocketed the phone and then sat back down. I picked up a magazine only to put it down again just as Dr. Hudson came into the waiting area. I scrambled to my feet as terror overcame me, expecting the worst.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine,” Dr. Hudson said gently, signaling at the chairs again so we could both sit down. “She’s stable, anyway. We got a lot of the cancer, okay, but we were unable to get it all.”
I swallowed, feeling the fear rise, clawing its way up my throat. “You couldn’t get it all?” I repeated. “That’s bad isn’t it? That means it can grow again.”
“Untreated, yes,” Dr. Hudson said. “But we got the majority of the cancer cells, which means the mass is much smaller and could feasibly be wiped out by radiation or chemotherapy.”
“So even though she had to go through the surgery, she still has to go through treatment?” I asked quietly, and the doctor nodded.
“Left untreated it could just come back. So, treating it now is the best thing to do.”
“Okay. I understand.” I looked down at the hands in my lap, the ones twisting over each other painfully, a bad habit I’d had since childhood. A stress reaction. “What comes next?”
