“The liver.”
Heart meet stomach meet floor. Stomach meet throat meet mouth. I run to the bathroom and make it just in time. After I finish my pukefest, I wipe my mouth and rinse it out. Then I think about what he said. The liver. While I’m not a smart woman, medically, I do know this. The liver usually spells out terminally ill. Drew is telling me he’s terminal. Fuck. Suck it up, Cate. Get out there now because he needs you. I look in the cabinet, since I’m not in my bathroom upstairs, and thank god there’s mouthwash in here. I rinse again and walk out the door.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, well, could be better. What now? More tests?”
“That and we determine if treatment is even an option anymore.”
I press my lips together, doing my dead level best to hold in my tears. Nodding, I finally squeak, “And you’re sure there’s nowhere else we can go?”
“I’m positive, Cate. It’s the disease, not the institution.”
I stand there, looking at the floor, and I hold out my arms so he can walk into them and not see me cry. God bless him, he figures me out.
I drive Drew to the hospital but give him the respect he deserves and don’t stay for the tumor board. He calls an hour and a half later and I meet him in Dr. Rosenberg’s office. They decide another round of chemo with an experimental drug added to the protocol. This will go on for two months. If no improvement is seen, then that’s it. They’ve reached the end of the road.
Christmas is next week and we have no tree or decorations. After moving into the house, I was all gangbusters because I knew this would be the perfect home for the holidays. There are a couple of rooms that would be great for Christmas trees, but now I’m pretty sure we won’t have that.
Drew doesn’t start chemo until January and I have a moment of inspiration. I get online and check things out. Then I make a call to Letty and pull her into my surprise, and then Ben. They’re one hundred percent on board. My last hold out is Dr. Rosenberg. When I speak to him, he’s a go, too.
So two days after Christmas, I pack a bag for Drew and I and I tell him I have a surprise. We get in the car and drive to the airport. When we get there, and he sees our destination is Chicago, he wants to know what’s going on. I only jiggle my brows.
“What have you done, Cate?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
The corner of his mouth curls and I can see his wheels spinning. “You haven’t done what I think you have?”
“And what might that be?”
“Blackhawk tickets?”
I grin and the look I receive is like sunbeams bursting through a storm. If I could capture it on film and save it to my own personal hard drive forever, I would die a happy woman. Drew McKnight is the happiest I’ve seen in weeks and weeks and I know I’ve made the best decision to make this trip.
The three-day jaunt to Chicago is amazing and it changes Drew—if only for that short period of time. It’s like we went back to those days in our sweet little villa by the sea. We are happy and nothing gets in the way of it, not even the looming monster of cancer.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t last, because we have to come home. But damn, it’s been so worth it.
January, chemo cranks back up and ironically, it’s not as bad as the last rounds. Drew has been in some pain recently, which makes me anxious, but the chemo knocks it right out and he tolerates it well. Other than the hair being gone, which neither of us gives a shit about, he’s holding his own. That’s not to say all is great. He’s dropping weight. It’s not a huge amount. But it’s a pound or so every week. I have to buy him new clothes because he can’t wear his old ones anymore.
He gives me an apologetic grin. “Maybe I should just stick to sweats. With elastic, then I wouldn’t have to worry about it.”
“Drew! Don’t be silly.”
He’s lying on the couch and I slide up next to him and hug him. It’s sad to feel how much muscle is no longer there. It’s the wasting away thing that you hear about.
“I’m nothing but a sack of bones, Cate.”
“You’ve lost weight, but we’ll fatten you back up.”
“I love your positive attitude.”
“Drew, you have to have one, too.”
He tilts his head and stares for a minute.
“What?”
“My scans came back today.” Blue eyes, overcast with sadness gut me. Shit shit shit shit shit.
THE LIGHT COMING THROUGH MY window is hazy and gray. Clouds thick with frozen moisture loom above DC, putting the brakes on everything as the city waits with bated breath to see if the possible storm will materialize.
“As much as I hate to say it, you should get home or you’ll be stuck here with me for the foreseeable future.”
“Not a bad thing.” Andy tugs my back closer to his chest.
“We both know the hospital will need you.”
“Maybe I need you more.”
His words light a fire in my heart. I’m beginning to need him like I need food to survive.