“Good.” I get up and grab my overnight bag. “I’m also going to come over right now. I need to cuddle until then. I also need you to fix my wig.” I laugh as I look at the lifted edges in the mirror.
“I’ve been learning some new stuff. Also got you a teal wig. I thought you might want to wear it to your cancer-free party.”
“The one Farrah is pre-emptively planning. Everyone is going to be disappointed if I am not in remission, including me.”
“Yeah, well, we will find something else to celebrate.”
Right now, being with him is celebration enough. I want him to see that, so I quickly pack and tell him I’m on my way.
Speeding my way there, I try to catch that high I get when we drive together. The manic smile on my face likely has more to do with seeing him than anything else. I can’t shake it even when I walk into his place and toss my bag on the floor.
Throwing myself into his arms like he just returned from war only makes it grow. He spins me around, endlessly kissing my cheek like this is his first time seeing me in a long time, too. In a way, I guess this is a coming together after an emotional separation. When he puts me down, he lets go begrudgingly to allow me to get comfortable.
I throw off my jacket and pull him to the couch.
“I want to go to Christmas with you. I want to be there as a couple and bond with your ma about you instead of Rowan. I want them to see you with a girlfriend who will fit right in.”
His eyes light up. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yup.”
He picks me up and slides me onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around my middle, he pulls me tight against him. His belly pushes into my soft side, and it feels so plush and comfy I never want to get up.
“You know what this means, sweetheart?” His voice holds that glint of mischievousness that has been there since the start.
“Tell me.”
“I was right. You didn’t believe me when I said you were going to be my wife, but I feel like I just caught someone in my arms.” He squeezes tighter as if to prove his point. But I don’t need him to.
“Well, you are very hard to resist.” I kiss his forehead before running my hands down his clean-shaven face. True to his word, as long as I don’t have hair, he won’t have a beard.
“Tell me you are doing this because you want to.” The way his voice shrinks reminds me of Martha’s Vineyard. It tells me, again, thatI have work to do. Quippy lines rush through my mind in response, but he doesn’t need to laugh. He needs to feel secure.
“I really want to. Honestly, being with you is the only thing I’m sure that I want to do. I don’t know what my life is going to look like, but in every version, it has you.”
“Do you want to talk about the other stuff?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter. Right now, all that matters is getting you under a cover in your underwear. I need you to warm me up.”
Nothing else has to be said for him to carry me to his bedroom. We strip bare, and in the comfort of his covers, we press our bodies together. His warmth seeps against my cool skin, his heart beats against mine. I grip him so tight I want him to feel all my intentions through my touch. He holds me just as desperately. That’s how we fall asleep, and how we spend days lost in each other’s arms.
Chapter 32
Callahanholdingmyhandin this lobby seems to be the only thing that stops me from floating off into my mind. My silence is like an echo chamber, where every bad thought bounces around louder and louder. If it weren’t for the TV show in the background and the ringing phone, I would be lost to it entirely.
It seems like every few seconds, he leans over and kisses my forehead. It’s a little reminder that he is here and I will be okay. He is telling me that even if it’s bad news, I will be okay.
I keep reminding myself that the chemo was a precaution. The surgery got the cancer, and the rest was just to be sure. But just like it was a slim chance that I would get this cancer, there is that slim chance that it might not be gone.
That train of thought is derailed by the calling of my name.
We stand up and are led into my doctor’s office. Dr. Gavin is standing and looking a lot better than he did the first time we met.
I instantly let out my breath as he smiles and gestures for us to sit. Before he even says the words, I know I’m officially in remission. Hearing it, though, is like pushing through the tunnel. For so long, there was a dim light, a promise that I would make it to the otherside, but feeling the rays of a bright future shine down on me, I feel free.
Callahan is crying and squeezing my hand in both of his. When I touch my cheek with my other one, I realize that I have tears, too. Relief pours out of me as I breathe in hope.
The doctor tells me what the next steps are, and the testing I will have to do yearly. It won’t be a while until I am considered cancer-free, but this is a start. We all look at each other quietly, just letting this all sink in. It doesn’t seem real, even as Callahan leads me out.
