“We’re above the clouds.It’s pretty relaxing.You could try looking straight ahead for a bit and see how you do.”
She groans.
“Why don’t you give it a try?If you don’t like it, you can go back to looking at your boots.”
“Fine,” she grumbles.“But if I throw up or scream, it’s all on you.”
“Literally,” I say.
Summer raises her head and looks straight out the cockpit windshield.I watch her for any sign of wooziness.She blinks.She takes a deep breath.
It’s been perfect weather so far and the forecast is all clear, all the way to Teterboro.We’ve got a gentle tailwind helping us along and the turbulence has been minimal, too, which is unusual for this time of year.Below us are swirling, puffy white clouds, and above us is an endless sea of blue.Besides the hum of the jet engine and the sound of us slicing the wind, it’s as peaceful as you can get.
“Oh!I can’t see the ground at all,” she says, smiling.“It’s like we’re not even flying.I kind of like this.”
I do a little victory dance in my head.“Now that I’ve converted you, we can fly every day if you want.We’ll travel more than Evander and Phoebe ever have.Maybe we’ll do that four-corners-of-the-world thing they did for their commitment ceremonies, or whatever they called them.”
She rolls her eyes.“Right, because when you think of Summer Stevens, you automatically think ‘world traveler’and ‘commitment ceremony.’”
“Maybe we’ll just hop over to Austin for barbecue.”
“Now you’re talking.”
She reaches over and grabs my hand.I squeeze hers in response.There’s a lump in my throat.
I get on my phone to make some extra arrangements for once we’re in New York.Then for the duration of the flight, we don’t say a word about our destination or why we’re going there.I’ve lined up the most renowned ovarian cancer specialist in the country, and he’s waiting for us, but Summer hasn’t asked a single question about who he is or what makes him the best.She’s just trusting me, jumping without looking.
I’m learning that Summer doesn’t like to think in abstractions.She isn’t interested in planning anything related to her medical care.She only wants to face what’s right in front of her, one small decision at a time, and I’m taking her lead on that.
We’re living in the moment, living in every second as it comes, and trying not to worry about the seconds that are on their way.It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s what Summer wants, so I’m doing it.
And on top of all that, I’m struggling to keep my own despair in check, for her sake.I’m doing everything I can not to see her differently, because if I let on that I perceive her as fragile or weak, then she’ll tan my hide.
Fiercely proud, Dad says.
Just plain fierce.All around.
But that doesn’t change the fact that when I look at her, all I want is to pick her up and cradle her in my arms.Carry her from one place to the next.Fight off anything and everything that could do her harm.
She’d kick me in the shins if she even suspected that’s what I’m thinking.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she says.
I doubt it.If she knew, she wouldn’t be smiling at me the way she is—so full of love, like she knows all my secrets.But I decide to humor her.“Then let’s hear it, smarty-pants.”
She pauses before she speaks.“You’re thinking that you wish you could protect me from this thing, this cancer.It’s a nice thought, and I love you for it.”
Ah, fuck.
That’s too much.It takes everything I’ve got—all my training and all my mental toughness—not to fall apart in front of her.But I push down the avalanche of sorrow and return her smile.“You know me too well, Summer.”
We land at Teterboro and taxi to the private hangar, where a car and driver are waiting for us.I don’t want to have to deal with parking, and I want to be able to hold Summer close all the way to the hospital, so I figured a driver on call would be our best bet while in the city.
The traffic is so horrible that it takes over an hour to get from New Jersey to Manhattan.When we arrive at the hospital, the driver gets out, and Summer looks at me, her eyes welling with tears.
“I love you,” she says.“Last chance to be saved.”
“I don’t want to be saved.”
