25. Logan
I sat in the doctor’s office and waited with Heidi and Juliette, her mother, to hear the results of her latest tests and imaging. My interaction with Juliette had been a hard-won battle, starting the moment the tiny woman marched over the threshold and demanded to know why she was the last to know that her daughter was dying.
Even in the office, holding Heidi’s hand and praying for the best, I could feel the weight of her angry stare, and when I glanced up, she narrowed her eyes at me. Instead of fighting her, I dropped my gaze to Heidi’s lap and stared at our intertwined fingers. It was the only real, physical contact we had anymore. Even her hands hurt, but she refused to show it. She knew it was killing me that I couldn’t even hold her without fear of damaging her somehow. Heidi was angry because her weakness kept us apart. My stomach churned every time her mother made her feel worse, not just about the cancer, but about us.
It had gotten so bad I’d finally heard my mother speak ill of someone for the first time. We could hear Heidi begging her mother to stop, but couldn’t hear what she was saying. I’d barged in like an idiot, earning wide eyes from Heidi and the full scorn of Juliette.
I’d forced her to leave me alone with my girl, who had promptly broken down in tears of frustration, and, in my opinion, exhaustion from dealing with her mother. It was the same scenario time and again, even in the doctor’s office, when Juliette and I had gone toe-to-toe about my right to be at Heidi’s side. It was the only time I saw Heidi stand up to the evil little woman.
“Logan doesn’t take orders from you, Mom. If he wants to stay or go, that’s his choice, not yours.”
I hadn’t let go of her hand from that moment on. When Dr. Patel arrived, even he seemed dismayed to see Juliette sitting there. He nodded to Heidi and me and asked Juliette how she had been. I half expected her to go on a tirade blaming Patel for not keeping Heidi cancer-free for the rest of her life. Instead, she was subdued and had little to say.
I glanced at my new nemesis and had a realization. Juliette could pretend to make this about her at home, she could verbally abuse Heidi and even me to deflect from her reality. She couldn’t turn her fear into anger in the face of the man she counted on to save her daughter’s life. Juliette was terrified, pretending to be tough, and making a huge mess of it.
I felt Heidi visibly relax next to me as her mother demurely answered Patel’s questions, so I tried to relax, too. It wasn’t easy, considering the importance of the meeting, but Heidi noticed my efforts and smiled up at me as she squeezed my hand affectionately.
“There’s great news, and less good news,” the doctor said, once we got past the social niceties.
“Give us the bad news first,” Heidi suggested.
“The tumor has stopped shrinking. Because of the size, and the lack of response to treatment, we do need to remove it surgically. Also, the size means that you are probably experiencing increased pain, nausea, maybe even faintness?” Heidi nodded, and Dr. Patel smiled sympathetically with her. “You should have come in and told me you were feeling worse. It’s okay to admit that something doesn’t seem right, Heidi.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking.
“What about the good news?” I asked, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Juliette nod.
“The tumor has become very defined, that means the edges are clearer, and looks to almost have ‘pulled away’ from the spine,” he explained, using his hands to demonstrate. “While that is putting extra pressure on the spinal cord as the heavy mass pulls away, it also means there’s a little less risk in taking it out.”
“What does a little less mean?” Juliette chimed in, her hands were twisting and untwisting in her lap. It was impossible to harbor the same level of dislike toward her finally seeing her distress instead of just her anger. I nudged Heidi and let go of her hand. She glanced at me, then at her mom, and placed her hand over Juliette’s. I watched out of the corner of my eye as her mother’s hands stopped fluttering like wounded birds and settled quietly in her lap. We listened to Dr. Patel explain the risks of death and the chance of total or partial paralysis.
My heart was a stone in my chest, pressing against my lungs and making it difficult to breathe. But Heidi smiled and thanked Dr. Patel, cutting her mother off in the middle of a hurricane of questions.
“How long do I have to wait for the surgery?” she asked.
Dr. Patel lifted a page in her chart and pursed his lips. “They have you scheduled for Friday morning. First surgery of the day. Dr. Thomas is the best in the state, and easily one of the best in the country. You’re in good hands with him.”
“You don’t do this surgery?” Heidi asked nervously.
“No. I’m going to attend, but I’ll let the spine specialist take care of your surgery.” He looked at each of us in turn, then back to Heidi. “You’re young and fit and have taken great care of yourself. You have the best chance of a positive end to this.” He smiled and dropped her file on the table. “I’m not going to pretend there aren’t risks, or promise that this will be the end of cancer, or even this tumor.”
Heidi nodded and sighed, while I bit off a curse.
“But the tumor will be gone, right?” I asked.
“That’s the hope. But imaging only shows us so much. I don’t want to make promises based on pictures that don’t tell the whole story. It could be worse when we open you up, Heidi. It could also be a lot better than we expected. That’s the hope, right?”
“I know, Dr. Patel. Stay positive; attitude matters most in the cancer ward.”
For a split second, the doctor’s encouraging smile slipped from his face, and I saw his concern for her. At that moment, he looked much older and more worn out than he had, and I could see how much he cared about Heidi.
“Just keep her around for the rest of us. No one’s ready to see her go, yet,” I said quietly. I’d been in so many similar appointments when Rebecca had gotten sick. Countless physicians and surgeons refusing to make promises they couldn’t keep, as I watched the woman I loved waste away. I wouldn’t let it happen again. Whatever happened on that table, I was going to make sure the rest of Heidi’s life was memorable for something other than cancer and heartache.
I couldn’t force myself to listen to the rest of the conversation. I nodded my head when it seemed appropriate and tried to make sense of a cloudless, sunny day and birds singing outside the office window when it should have been dark and gloomy, stormy to match the discussion and my mood.
Heidi and I had ridden in together and met her mom at the hospital. At the end of the appointment came yet another fight with Juliette about Heidi staying with my family, and why she shouldn’t go back to the ranch with me. I saw Heidi caving to her mother’s demands again and stepped in, physically and verbally, putting myself between the two women.
“Juliette. Heidi is coming home with me. Not because you can’t take care of her, and not because she doesn’t love you. But if you think I have to listen to you say another goddamned cruel thing to her, all because she had the audacity to get sick again, you’re out of your mind.” I took Heidi’s arm and led her to the car.
“How dare you speak to me that way!” Juliette gasped, and I couldn’t help but grin at her daughter.
Heidi just rolled her eyes. I knew she could’ve handled it, even on a bad day. I was bone tired of her having to do it, and I spun around to face the tiny, leather-skinned woman with the frizzy, bottle-blonde bleach job.
“You’re always welcome out at the ranch, Juliette, unless you can’t mind your tongue. Heidi needs support, not your shrill bleating in her head, telling her everything that’s wrong with her. And if you can’t see what an amazing, strong, competent woman your daughter is? That’s on you. If you decide you can’t be on board with our positive attitude approach to Heidi’s wellbeing, then I guess we’ll see you Friday morning.” I turned to go.
Juliette grabbed my arm, digging her sharp fingernails into my forearm and snarling at me. “I see through you. You’re just like her father, and you’ll only disappoint her. I won’t let you get your claws into her.”
I pried her hand off my arm and watched blood well up in the marks she’d left, trickling toward my elbow as I held it up to show her.
“Looks like I’m not the one with claws to worry about. If I find out you’ve laid a hand on her, we’re going to have a problem.” I turned on my heel and climbed into the Escalade and asked Heidi for a napkin.
“Good God, why are you bleeding?” she asked as I held the tissue paper to my arm. “Did she do that? Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Logan.” She turned in her seat to watch her mother recede through the back window. “Dad said she’d attacked him, but I just thought it was an excuse to justify cheating. What on earth just happened?”
“I told her that her guest privileges at the ranch would be rescinded if she couldn’t be nice to you,” I explained. “She doesn’t like me much.”
“No shit. That woman doesn’t like anyone. But she’s my mother, and I don’t want her to be a wedge between us. I’m just not ready to write off my mom yet, do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand, and I’m not asking you to give up on your mom. But you’re my lady, and I won’t put up with shit from anybody about you, especially when you’re at your weakest. It’s mentally sick to do that to someone. Even sexual predator Eli knew that much.”
Heidi snorted and shook her head. “How am I supposed to ever look that man in the face and keep mine straight? You know that every time I speak to him, that’s what I call him in my head now. Thanks a lot.”
I grinned and checked the bleeding on my arm. “Should I get a tetanus shot for this?”
“Oh, stop it,” she sniggered and coughed to hide it. “I think we did a really good job at that appointment. Do you think there’s time for an ice cream stop before we go home and I collapse in my bed?”
“I’m just bummed you don’t want to right back to the ranch. I’ve got a buggy ride all ready to go, and you look so good, we could probably try just riding together, no buggy.”
Heidi had been forced into ‘outdoor therapy’ by my parents, who took her out either on the lake in the dingy, or in the fields bundled up and sitting in a cart. We all believed there was something healing about the land out there in the hills. We wanted Heidi to get a chance at receiving some of that love from the land before she went home, or wherever her journey was taking her.
Heidi made a noncommittal sound and leaned her head against the window. I could see the reflection of her eyes blinking slower and slower, until they stayed closed, and her breathing deepened. I considered just taking her back to the ranch, or to my apartment, which I hadn’t seen the inside of for so long, I wondered if I should put my stuff back in storage and terminate the lease.
When I had suggested that very same idea to Heidi after her diagnosis, she’d rejected it without hesitation, saying she wanted a place that was hers alone. It had pissed me off, but it would’ve been a lie to say I didn’t understand. I texted Tucker while sitting at a red light and asked him to help me get out of the lease I’d just signed. Heidi didn’t need one more person telling her what to do. Between her mother, her many doctors, her boss, and anyone else who felt like they were entitled to an opinion, Heidi never went an hour without being told what to do.
Even at the ranch, it was always a schedule of chemo-complementary medicine regimen, then pain meds, vitamins, fresh air therapy. Her life was quiet and structured by her and for her needs until I landed in the middle of her office and did my damndest to make her see only me. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to hang onto her independence.
“Here’s to leading by example,” I muttered to myself as I looked for a White Castle drive-through. The least I could do before leaving her all alone was to provide her with some good old-fashioned greasy comfort food. I knew she couldn’t eat much, but I ordered enough for a football team, since she wasn’t awake to tell me what she liked.
I took the food in, then gently woke Heidi and helped her down from the truck. I picked her up in my arms and carried her inside, worried that she hadn’t tried to argue or fight me off. I set her on the couch with the remote, and the food pulled up next to her on the table and looked for a reason to stay.
“I’m fine, Logan. I’ll see you on Friday. I just need a little while to myself. Go check in on Boyden, or catch up on riding, or whatever it is hot cowboys do when their women hibernate in their bedrooms for a day or two,” she teased.
“I’m going to start packing my apartment, thank you very much.” I stifled a smile at her shocked response. “I’m going to put my stuff in storage. Next move’s yours… literally.” I winked at her and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be staying in town. You need anything, you let me know.” She kissed me again and I walked out the door, desperately trying to ignore the foreboding that slithered down my spine.