Chapter Thirteen
Molly
I opened my eyes to the strip of fluorescent lights above me. The lights were off, but because they were there, I knew that I wasn’t in my room at the dorm. I looked to my right and saw the tube going into my arm, attached to the bags of clear fluid and blood. I was in the hospital…again. I remembered now. Megan brought me here because I was feeling weak, and the doctor didn’t have good news…and Grandma was here. I turned my head to where she was supposed to be and imagine my surprise when instead of my grandmother, I was looking at Brock.
“What are you doing here?” I said a bit too harshly, maybe. “Did Megan call you?”
I was instantly mad. How dare she? All of this time she hadn’t told anyone and the one person I most especially didn’t want her to tell was now sitting at my bedside…in the hospital.
“No, Molly,” he was saying as I cursed poor innocent Megan in my head. “Megan didn’t tell me. I was here, in the hospital. I play music for the patients sometimes. I saw you.”
I felt bad for snapping at him, and I felt bad for accusing Megan. I felt bad period. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want Brock of all people to see me like this. “I’m sorry. Where’s my grandmother?”
“She had to run a few errands. She said she should be back soon. Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m fine. What did my grandmother tell you?” I asked him. I doubted she told him anything but I’m sure he asked. I couldn’t even look at him.
“Molly look at me, please.” I wanted to tell him to leave, but I wanted him to stay. I know that’s weird.
“No one told me anything. Your grandmother was really nice, but she said that if there is anything to be told, you should be the one to do it. You can tell me, Molly. You can trust me.”
I was looking at his beautiful blue eyes and they were earnestly telling me that I could trust him. He didn’t want to hurt me…I just blurted it out…. “I have cancer.” Then I looked at his face and waited for…something. Whatever I expected though was not what he gave me. I knew Brock well enough by now to know that he wasn’t like other people.
“I kind of figured that out,” he said, “because of the oncology unit and all. What kind of cancer do you have Molly. Did they just find it?”
“It’s called renal cell carcinoma, and I was diagnosed when I was sixteen. They did chemo and radiation and they thought they had gotten it all. It hadn’t spread anywhere so the doctor said I was lucky. I was in remission for just over a year and this summer, it came back. I had one kidney removed already. The one I have left has cancer in it now. We’ve been trying some new drugs that the university is experimenting with, that’s why I chose to come here…” I considered whether or not to tell him what Dr. Harris had told me earlier, but I decided against it for now. Instead I just said, “I let myself get dehydrated. I usually take better care of myself than that. My hemoglobin gets low sometimes because my kidneys don’t produce red blood cells like they’re supposed to, so that’s what the blood’s about. I’m fine though.”
He looked like he was processing that. I knew from experience that most people our age didn’t know much about cancer. Most of them thought cancer meant death. I don’t expect our friendship to be the same now. At first, he’ll be super nice, asking if there’s anything he can do for me or anything I need. Then he’ll just stop calling so much, or coming around so often. When he did call, or we got together, conversation would be awkward and stilted, because he would be hesitant to talk about things that he was afraid I might not be able to do because of my dreaded cancer. I had seen it all before. So far, Grandma and Megan were the only ones that it hadn’t affected that way.
“Is the new chemo working?” he asked. I was surprised at his use of the word chemo. I had just told him we were trying new meds. Usually, people unfamiliar with cancer only call it chemo when you go to the hospital and get an IV. Maybe he was close to someone who’d had cancer. Sometimes that can be worse. I went to high school with a guy whose father ended up dying from bladder cancer. I know he wasn’t trying to upset me, but he used to tell me every detail of his dad’s treatments and surgeries, right up to his father’s death. That’s just not exactly what a chick with cancer wants to hear.
“I guess…” I lied. “When did you say my grandmother is coming back?”
I hate this. Things with Brock, other than the whole awkward kiss thing had been so normal.
“She should be back soon,” he said again. “Do you not want to talk about this? Your cancer?”
“No,” I told him, “I really don’t.”
“Okay, then we won’t. How about a song? Anything you want to hear?”
“You pick,” I told him.
Then I closed my eyes and within seconds he was singing to me:
“Her eyes, her eyes, they make the stars look like they’re not shining. Her hair, her hair, falls perfectly without her trying. I know, I know when I compliment her she won’t believe me…..”
Bruno Mars. Damn this guy is good.
“Cause you’re amazing just the way you are.”
I wanted to cry but I didn’t want him to see me. I had to wonder if he really felt that way about me. Did he really think I was that beautiful? Would he still think so if I had to go through harsher chemo and I lost my hair again? What about when I’m puking in that pretty pink bucket; would I still be amazing? I opened my eyes as he finished the song. He was looking at me intently again. I didn’t like that. I preferred the amused look.
“That was pretty, thank you,” I told him.
“You’re pretty,” he said. It was so hard to breathe when he was in the room. Grandma came back then, thank God.
Brock jumped out of the chair and Grandma said, “You don’t have to get up. I heard you singing when I got off the elevator. You have a beautiful voice.”
He blushed. He actually turned red. It was so damned cute.
“Thank you,” he told her. He looked back at me, and I had the feeling that he wanted me to tell him to stay. I didn’t want him to though. The blood was almost empty, and the nurses would be in soon, and Dr. Harris would be back. I moved my leg and felt the catheter. Oh God, I have a tube in my bladder and the hottest guy in the world is standing here looking at me.
“It was beautiful, Brock. Thank you. Hi, Grandma.” She had two big bags of stuff. “What’s in the bags?” I asked her.
“I just got you some things you might need. A couple of nightgowns, a robe and some slippers…toiletries…”
“Grandma, I have all of that stuff in my dorm room. It’s five minutes away and Megan would have brought it to me. You shouldn’t spend more money on me.”
“It’s my money,” my grandmother said, “I’ll spend it how I like.” I could see Brock grinning out of the corner of my eye. I wondered again what they had talked about when I was sleeping. My IV pump started beeping then. We all looked at the same time.
“It’s empty,” Brock said. “I’ll get the nurse.”
When he left the room my grandmother said, “He’s a nice boy.”
“Yeah, he is,” I said. “Grandma when the nurses come back in, I don’t want Brock to be here, okay? Will you please ask him to go?”
My grandmother laughed. “Me?” she said. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“Have you seen those blue eyes?” I asked her. “I can hardly remember my own name around him sometimes. Please Grandma.”
She shook her head at me, but I knew she would do it. She went out into the hall, and when Brock came back in he said that he had to get going.
“Do you need me to go by your dorm and get anything for you?” he asked.
“I’m alright,” I told him. “Grandma bought me everything I needed I’m sure. Thank you for being here Brock, and for the song.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You’ll call me if you need anything…right? Even some company?”
“Yes,” I lied again. “Bye.”
He said bye, and as I watched him go, my heart physically ached.