Fucking Sick

(Mason)

I couldn’t believe Hank was fucking sick. Fucking cancer. Stupid fucking cancer rearing its ugly ass head into my life again. It took more strength than I knew I had not to lose my shit when Violet told me about Hank. So, the only way I could deal with it was to strip naked to chase her out of my apartment. I then spent the next hour in a hot shower with my hands balled into fists. I punched the tiles a few times, wanting them to crack. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to bleed.

That came later when I picked a fight in a bar. I took on two guys and got my ass lit up behind the dive in an alleyway. Now, to be fair, I got my share of blows on the two douchebags I fought, but they managed to muscle me just enough to put me on the ground. I could’ve gotten back up, but I sat there, collecting my thoughts along with my cuts and bruises.

I thought about cancer.

I thought about what it was, what it could do, what it had done to my life. There was a certain point in time when I would look to the stars and wish it to be my turn. Have my battle with it and let myself finally get taken by time.

I went home alone that night and crashed into my bed, waking up the next morning to dried blood on my pillow and blankets.

All because of fucking cancer.

All because Hank was fucking sick.

Violet’s father. A good man. A man who looked beyond everything I was and saw the real me.

So after a long day at the shop with Hunter, I got into my truck and headed toward Violet’s shitty little town she grew up in, knowing I was stepping into enemy territory with Davis. I knew it was going to be a hectic situation for her, but I also knew she was smart enough to keep Davis away. I wasn’t going up there to start a fight. I was going to pay my respects to a sick man who could possibly be looking down the barrel of a silent gun, with the Grim Reaper on the other side, cackling, winking, knowing he controlled the end.

When I got to Violet’s, I didn’t know what to expect. History played over in my mind and told me what I could possibly expect.

I rang the doorbell and it was Hank who opened the door.

He took one look at me and cleared his throat. He then winced, grabbed at his chest, turned his head to shield tears forming in his eyes, and offered a hand to me. I realized he was grabbing for my shirt for balance, so I threw my hand out to him and grabbed his elbow.

“Mason,” he said in a gruff voice.

“Dad,” Violet’s voice called out. “I said I would get it.”

“I got the damn door,” Hank snapped.

Hank looked at me. That’s when I saw it. That look. That desperate look. A look you only gave to someone you trusted or someone you knew could handle the truth of pain.

I nodded to Hank and stepped into the house. I turned so Violet wouldn’t see her father clinging to me for balance. And I would damn sure never bring it up to her or Hank, ever.

“Violet,” I said.

Color rushed to her cheeks as she stared at me.

“Mason’s here,” Hank said. “You got yourself a tattoo or two, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I got rid of my shop and got a little bored. Some cash burning a hole in my pocket.”

“It looks good,” Hank said. “Looks great. Really great.”

Barb appeared, wiping her hands with a dishtowel. “Mason! It’s good to see you again.”

“Barb, look at Mason’s ink,” Hank said.

“Ink?” Barb said. “Since when do you call it ink? You think ink is in a pen. Not on skin.”

“Hey now,” Hank growled. “I know about ink. I was thinking of getting some myself. A nice skull or something.”

“That would look good,” I said. “Maybe on your shoulder.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Dad, stop,” Violet said. “You’re afraid of needles.”

“Like hell I am,” Hank said, puffing out his chest.

I felt him starting to stumble.

“I hate to ask,” I said, “but can I get a drink?”

“Sure,” Barb said. “How rude of me not to offer.”

I winked at Violet, and she stood dumbfounded at how easily I had won her parents over. Hell, it amazed me too. Anyone would have been smart to take one look at me and run like the fucking wind.

Instead, I walked Hank to the couch and sat him down. I then backed up and crashed into a chair.

We looked at each other, nodding. The silent man-conversation.

Finally, I said, “Fucking cancer.”

“Fucking cancer,” Hank whispered back. He cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling, though?” I asked. “Bullshit aside.”

“Like I have cancer,” he said.

Barb appeared.

Hank put a big smile on his face.

That right there…that little gesture…that was fucking love. True love. Real love. This was a man who could swallow pain and anger to smile in front of his wife. Anything to ease her gentle soul, even if it was only for a few seconds.

I swallowed hard, knowing I would do the same thing for Violet.

“Iced tea?” Barb asked.

“Perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

“Yes he is,” Hank said.

“No,” I said. “I couldn’t do that.”

“Yes you can,” Hank said firmly.

“Hank…I didn’t come here to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble,” Hank said. He curled his lip. “With the pansy-ass-baseball guy she’s been bringing around…”

Hank pointed to Violet. I looked at her, and her cheeks were apple-red.

I winked and she walked away.

“You two figure it out,” Barb said. “I’ll set an extra plate, just in case.”

I sipped the iced tea and felt like my teeth were going to rot on the spot.

Hank shook his head. “She makes this sweet, huh?”

“It’s good.”

“You should stay,” Hank said. “I can’t stand that other tool.”

I chuckled. “Hank…it’s a messed-up situation.”

“Look,” he said. He winced as he moved to the edge of the couch. “I’ve got a few more of these treatments left. So far, so good. If I come out on the other side free and clear, then life goes on. If not, then it gets worse for me. More treatments. Surgery. All kinds of risky shit. I never once got in the middle of Violet’s life. She’s always been a good kid. Smart. Funny. And look at her. Making all that money with the cell phone stuff or whatever the hell she does. One thing I always knew is that she’d find someone good for her. Me and Barb, we may look a certain way. But we would never judge. I don’t care about how you look to me, Mason. I care about how Violet looks at you. And I just watched her stand there and stare at you with the same eyes I caught Barb giving me so many times. That other guy? Davis? I blame myself.”

“You? Why you?”

“Because of the cancer,” Hank said. Then he groaned and grabbed at his ribs. “She came back hurt and confused. I don’t know why you two called it quits, but don’t let it be for long.”

“What if I told you I was no good?” I asked. “What if I told you I hurt her? What if I told you I…” have a fucking wife… “I lied to her…”

“Mason,” Hank said. “I saw the same look on your face when you looked at her. When it works, it works.”

I rubbed my jaw. I took another sip of the super sugary iced tea.

“You know, I lost someone to cancer,” I said. “I’ve never told Violet about it. The whole story. What it all meant to me. When she told me that you were sick, a numbness went through me. I don’t do the prayer thing, Hank. It’s not my vibe. But if I did, I would pray with every last beat of my heart that you come out okay on the other side of this. I never want Violet to feel the emptiness I feel.”

“You won’t, son,” Hank said. “You won’t. You don’t need to pray. You don’t need to feel empty.”

Jesus, this guy was cutting through me.

“Hank, do you need anything else?” Barb asked, appearing from nowhere.

“I’m fine. Thank you. Just catching up on tattoos and stuff.”

“I’m not a fan of tattoos, personally,” Barb said. “But they look good on you, Mason. They fit you.”

“Mom,” Violet said. She was now standing next to the chair. I stood up. “Don’t keep talking about his tattoos.”

“I have an announcement,” Hank said. “When I finish my last treatment, I’m going to get a tattoo. No lie. No joke.”

“Hank…”

“Did I ever tell you the joke my father told me about his tattoo?”

“Dad, please,” Violet said.

“What is it?” I asked.

“No,” Violet said, grabbing at my arm.

“Hank, don’t you say anything to embarrass Violet,” Barb said.

Hank looked at me. “He said he had a tattoo of chicken showing its asshole tattooed on his stomach.”

“Oh, no,” Violet groaned.

“And then,” Hank went on, “he’d lift up his shirt, high enough to show his belly button. And he’d look down. Then he’d said, ‘oh, damn, the chicken ran away and left its asshole!’.”

Hank started to laugh.

It was a dry, bouncing laugh. A pained laugh.

But I started to laugh too. I looked at Barb, and she started to laugh. Hank was damn near ready to fall off the couch. Violet’s cheeks were red again, but she started to laugh too.

We all laughed until Barb started to tear up.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Violet asked.

She waved at all of us. “Nothing. We just haven’t had a good laugh in a while here.”

“Ah, Barb,” Hank said. He wrestled to get to his feet. “Ah, come here…”

I glanced at Violet.

There was too much emotion in the room for me.

I was feeling a little overwhelmed.

And that was the exact second the doorbell rang.

And the entire vibe changed…for good reason.

* * *

I stood between the living room and the foyer when Violet opened the front door. There stood Davis. In a damn nice polo shirt, his hair looking perfect, and a fake-ass smile on his face. In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers.

“Hey,” he said. “I…”

That’s when he looked at me.

I looked over at Barb and Hank. Barb’s eyes were wide. Hank’s lip started to curl.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” I said to them. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble.”

“Barb, will you go check on the food?” Hank asked.

“Hank…don’t you do anything…”

“Nothing is going to happen,” I said. “I’m leaving.”

“That’s the fucking bartender from the other night,” I heard Davis say.

“Davis, wait a second,” Violet said.

“Christ, are you fucking someone else? And your parents don’t care?”

That’s when I came into the scene. I stepped up next to Violet. I looked right at Davis. I imagined my fist crushing his chubby face.

“I know, Hank,” I said. “And, yes, I know Violet and her family. No, I’m not fucking her. I came to check on a sick man.”

“I don’t give a shit about cancer right now,” Davis spat. “I care about what she’s doing.”

When he said that, he thrust his finger at Violet like she was an object. That’s when I reached for Davis. I grabbed his whole hand in my fist and squeezed.

He let out a weak-ass sound and looked surprised. He tried to step back, but I wasn’t letting him get away from me.

“Don’t you ever…”

“Stop,” Violet said. She put a hand to my arm and a hand to Davis’s arm. “Stop right now, Mason. Let him go.”

I looked at Violet. “Seriously?”

“Yes. And you should go. It’s time to go.”

“That’s what I thought,” Davis said.

I let Davis go. I looked over at Violet. She was confused on what to do right then.

I looked back and saw Hank standing against the archway of the living room.

“Hank,” I said. “It was good to see you. Keep up the good fight.”

“Mason…I’m…”

I nodded.

There was a silent understanding between us.

I then looked at Violet one more time. “Thanks for having me, Violet.”

I stepped forward and threw my shoulder into Davis, sending him back with ease. Davis then found his balls and decided to stand up for himself a little. He grabbed at my shoulder and tried to push me, thinking he was going to get me off the porch. I planted my feet, and Davis couldn’t move me.

“Davis, stop!” Violet yelled. “You’re going to get hurt!”

“Listen to her, man,” I warned. “You’re lucky I haven’t dropped you yet.”

Davis let me go and put up his fists. “Come on. Fight me then. You stupid asshole.”

My hands were balled up tight into fists. I was ready to go. But then I thought about how it would look. Poor Barb was probably emotional in the kitchen. She had enough shit to deal with. And Hank didn’t need all that excitement on his body as it fought back against fucking cancer.

And Violet?

It was like I didn’t know her anymore.

She was lost in a world that only she could escape from.

“You’re not worth it, man,” I said. “Have a great night.”

I left the porch with Davis throwing out comments that I let bounce off me. I never did that. Nobody fucking talked to me that way and got away with it. But I did it for Barb. For Hank. For Violet.

I got into my truck and left.

I was ready for a fight. But then I got this ripping feeling across my chest. I had the goddamn urge to cry. Cry. Actually cry. That’s what Violet did to me. There was only one other woman that could do that to me. And that woman was gone.

But Violet wasn’t gone.

Violet was back at her parents’ house, trying to manage the entire goddamn world. But all she needed to do was look into her own heart and just fucking follow it.

Yeah, I was an asshole. Yeah, I’d probably hurt her again and again. Yeah, she’d end up hating me. But you know what? Nobody could love her like I did. And that was a fact.

But to prove it…Violet would have to come to me—for good.