Every Last Drop

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Every Last Drop Page 8

by Sarah Robinson


  At least I had a smooth head.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow for your next shot. You have yourself a good Saturday; try and do something fun,” Delores instructed as she headed for the door.

  I followed her out slowly, feeling self-conscious of my new hairdo—if you can call it that.

  “Tessa?” My dad’s voice sounded behind me in the hallway after I closed the front door behind Delores.

  I turned to him, noting the pull of his brows and frown on his lips.

  “Wow.” he said, after a long exhale. “How do you feel?”

  I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Kind of tired.”

  He nodded toward my head. “I remember your mom when she did that. You look so much like her right now; it’s like I’m looking at her.”

  “Oh.” I touched my head gingerly, cringing. “Is it bad? Do I look okay?”

  “Sunshine, you look beautiful. You always have and you always will,” he assured me, taking several steps forward to hug me tightly. “Just like your mom.”

  I leaned into him, allowing the comfort to envelope me.

  “Tessa?” Kyle’s voice broke our embrace.

  I turned to see he’d arrived home from work and was standing in the doorway. Part of me wanted to cover my head, but my body froze under his scrutiny. “Hey,” I said, nerves shaking my voice.

  “You’re beautiful,” Kyle said, greeting me with a kiss. “I love it.”

  My muscles released, and I deflated into a smile, knowing the man I was so attracted to still though I was beautiful. He was my fairytale; he always would be.

  My dad cleared his throat. “How about you kids go take Beast for a walk? You could use the time to talk.”

  The moment my dad spoke, Beast rounded the corner barking. He knew those words well—they were his favorites.

  “Oh, so that’ll wake you up?” My dad rolled his eyes as he exited the room. “Damn lazy excuse for a dog’s been sleeping in the sunny spot in the living room all day.”

  Kyle smiled and pulled his jacket back on. “I’d love to go on a walk with you.”

  I nibbled the corner of my lip at the idea of going outside with my new hairstyle. I opted for stalling. “Can I change first? I’m still wearing my yoga pants.”

  “Sure, I’ll leash up Beast.”

  I took the stairs slowly, not hurrying. I didn’t know why going on a walk felt weird. It shouldn’t. Kyle and I spent much of our free time walking, or hiking, or anything outdoors, but everything was different now that I looked like...a cancer patient.

  Disrobing as I entered my bedroom, I scoured my drawers and settled on a dark pair of jeans under a flowery blouse. I tugged on a pair of boots that came partway up my shins, then finished with a brown, leather jacket I loved. Standing in front of my mirror, I surveyed my body.

  Everything from the neck down was normal…me. From the neck up, not so much.

  Frowning, I headed into the bathroom and brushed on a slight blush to my cheeks and some mascara on my thinning eyelashes. Stepping back, I realized the mascara was sparse because my lashes were so few. I swiped on some eyeliner as a fix, adding a little to my eyebrows to thicken them, too.

  My bald head still stuck out like…a bald head.

  Glancing down at my hands, I realized that all of my blisters had mostly healed. It’d been at least a month and a half since I’d been at the climbing gym. I didn’t have the strength I once had, and the idea of pulling myself up a rock wall seemed unfathomable right now.

  Kyle called from downstairs, “Tessa? You ready?”

  “One second!”

  I rifled through some old shelves in my closet, hoping to find a scarf or bandana. I had few hair bands, as my thick hair often broke them, and I normally opted to wear it down.

  “Sunshine?” My dad’s voice brought me to attention, standing in the doorway behind me with a large wooden box in his hands.

  “What’s up, Dad?”

  He motioned for me to follow him, and we returned to the bedroom. “I thought maybe you might want these,” he said gruffly, shoving the box toward me without looking into my eyes. That was pretty normal for him. He wasn’t one for emotion or sentiment and eye contact was all vulnerability—something he wanted no part of. “It’s nothing, really.”

  Curious, I took the box from him and opened it. Inside were small triangles of thin, silky fabrics folded over a velvet lining with such care, that it practically dripped luxury.

  “Are these Mom’s?” I asked, even though I recognized the scarves immediately.

  “Yeah, I thought you might like them. Especially now that, uh…” he trailed off uncomfortably.

  Tears stung at my eyes from his kind gesture.

  “You kept these?” I examined each one, reveling in the feel of the soft silk. “I thought her stuff was donated.”

  He shrugged. “Most of it was, but I kept some of my favorites. It’s silly, I know.” A flash of nostalgia washed over his face. “Your mother spent so many years collecting those. Then when she got sick, she used them to cover her head. I don’t know, I thought maybe—”

  I threw myself against his large, brick chest, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and squeezing my eyes closed.

  He tensed for a moment, then relaxed and circled his arms around me as well.

  “Thank you, Daddy. This is…it’s perfect.”

  He squeezed me tighter and kissed the top of my head. “I love you, sunshine.”

  He released me and left the room, leaving me alone with my new gift. I wiped an escaped tear from my cheek as I lifted a soft pink scarf from the box. It had been one of my mother’s favorites, and I remembered it well.

  I’d never known what happened to these scarves after her death. She had worn them all the time, talking about them to anyone who would listen. They were Hermès, a symbol of wealth and prosperity in her eyes. She’d spent most of her childhood in poverty, and I think it made her feel like she always had to prove her worth, and in some strange way, these did that for her. Little pieces of fabric gave her the confidence she hadn’t been able to give herself.

  I hadn’t liked them for the bragging rights, but for the soft way they had complimented her pink cheeks, or for how they felt against my shoulder when she would lean close. The way they smelled like her when I would hide in her closet and drape them over my hair, pretending I was all grown up like the woman I loved.

  I lifted one to my nose and inhaled, smiling when triggered memories flickered behind my eyes.

  “Tessa, come here!” Her high-pitched voice carried into my bedroom where I was playing with my dolls.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told my dolls as I skipped out of the room and down the stairs, finding my mother standing in the kitchen with her hands nearly elbow deep in a bowl of who-knows-what.

  “Oh, good. Tessa, help me.” She was so beautiful when she turned and smiled at me that I had to pause for a moment to admire her sparkling white teeth, dazzling blue eyes, and tiny button nose that fit her face perfectly. Her skin glowed and her belly protruded slightly from under her white shirt where the existence of my future sibling was beginning to show. Her head was covered in a soft pink silk scarf, and completely bald underneath.

  “What do I do?” I asked.

  “My hands are dirty mixing this meatloaf; can you turn on the radio over there? We need some music in this house!” She nodded to a large boom box on the far counter.

  I pulled a small wooden stool over in front of it, ambling up to reach it and pressing the power button. Music instantly filled the room, and I paused to listen to the upbeat tune.

  “Do you know this song, honey?” my mother asked as I climbed off the stool and pulled it across the kitchen next to her.

  I hopped up and grabbed her pants for balance, holding steady as I peeked over the counter. “No?”

  “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,” she told me as she started singing along and swaying her body side to side.

  I leaned unsteadily backward with her movemen
t, deciding to grab the counter and climb up there instead. “That’s not a word, Mommy!” I insisted as I hoisted my bottom onto the counter and turned to face her, watching her make meatloaf as she sang.

  “Sure, it is,” she said.

  “What’s it mean then?”

  “It means Tessa is the best little girl in the whole wide world.” She winked at me as she finished with the meatloaf and shaped it into a pan before pushing that into the oven.

  “Nuh uh, you can’t trick me.” I giggled, putting my hand over my mouth to hide my smile as my mother washed off her hands.

  “Don’t cover your beautiful face, darling. I just can’t go a minute without seeing my little girl’s smile.” Mommy kissed my cheek as she pulled my arm down with her still-wet hand before lifting me into her arms, her big belly bump between us.

  I wrapped my legs around her back as best as I could, facing her, and proudly letting her see my smile.

  “Dance with me, Tessa,” she told me, swaying with me in her arms as my one arm wrapped around her shoulder for support and the other was held tightly in hers. She bounced and moved around the kitchen with me singing loudly and I joined in when I could. I quickly got the chorus down, but hummed along to the rest.

  Giggling, I leaned my head against her shoulder, feeling the ends of her soft silk against my cheek. I closed my eyes and tucked in tighter to her chest as she continued to sway along to the beat.

  Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I lifted the soft pink scarf and wrapped it around my head the way my mother had worn it. She had had cancer twice, once when she was pregnant with Elly which went into remission after Elly’s birth, and then again, a few years later, which finally cost her life. I bit my lip at the memory.

  If my mother could dance and sing with cancer, I could go outside with no hair.

  Nodding at my reflection, as if to give myself permission, I took a deep breath and left to join Kyle.

  Chapter Ten

  Saturday, April 26, 2014

  * * *

  “Damn it, Beast!” Kyle spun around attempting to untwine the leash our dog had wound around his legs.

  I giggled, watching them as we stood at the entrance of Grant Park where the pup’s excitement at so many people had gotten the better of him. “This is why I should be holding the leash. I never get tangled up.”

  “Or we could just get a dog that acts like a normal freaking dog,” he replied.

  “I think that option’s long gone.”

  Kyle shook his head in annoyance, despite his wide smile, finally freeing himself to resume our walk. I ducked my head, trying to get used to the cool breeze against my bare skin, sneaking beneath the thin scarf.

  It surprised me how few people stared at me. I had thought leaving the house hairless would be a giant billboard with a red arrow pointed at me, but that was not turning out to be the case. In fact, they ignored me now as always. Attention stuck on their phones, few eyes even made it to my scarf. Occasionally, someone would do a double take as if to reassure themselves that their eyes weren’t playing tricks on them. The moment they realized they were in fact looking at a bald woman, they moved on with little more than a slight blush or quickly averted gaze.

  “Look, there’s a concert playing.” Kyle pointed toward the far side of the park where a transient crowd had gathered to watch the show.

  “Let’s go!” I headed that direction, pulling him along. I was always eager to hear new music.

  When we reached the crowd, we found three young band-mates with a sign identifying their group as MamaDear. A fresh-faced blonde with a girl-next-door look was singing from a small stage. Her voice echoed despite no microphone. The two men behind her also sang—one played a guitar, the other a mandolin. They harmonized perfectly. The man with the mandolin watched her with adoration and I couldn’t stop from smiling at young love.

  “Dance with me?” Kyle asked, extending a hand.

  “No one is dancing,” I replied but still took his hand. We watched the trio sing an unfamiliar song. With the mix of country and pop, I guessed they’d written the lyrics themselves, and I liked it.

  Soft and passionate, they sang about betting on love and taking chances, that it was worth it in the end. I felt the notes slide over me, closing my eyes. The words were reminiscent of my current ordeal—I was betting on my life, betting on surviving the next few weeks, betting on remission.

  I was betting on me, on us, on growing old together.

  Kyle whispered in my ear, “Since when do we need others permission to dance?”

  I popped open my eyes as Kyle pulled me by my free hand against his chest. Beast’s leash draped across our intertwined fingers, and Kyle circled my back with his other arm. I moved my hips with his, swaying to the song.

  “Such a romantic,” I said, teasing.

  “Only when I have the right inspiration.”

  “What’s inspiring you now?”

  “My beautiful wife,” he answered, not missing a beat.

  “Not so beautiful anymore.” My cheeks grew warm thinking of the thin scarf hiding my head.

  His gaze dropped to my lips, then returned to meet my eyes. A seriousness stole away his smile and I knew unequivocally that everything he was about to say was honest and from his soul. “You couldn’t be more wrong,” he countered. “You’re gorgeous—with or without hair.”

  “Kyle.” I sighed, moving stiffly in his arms, uncomfortable with how real things had just become. He was being nice and I knew he’d always think I was beautiful, but I also knew what I really looked like.

  He shook his head then tilted my chin up to look at him, his fingers brushing against my skin. “Nothing changes how much I love you, or how beautiful you will always be to me, and to everyone else. Not even cancer.”

  I let him have a small smile, but doubt still filled me.

  He narrowed his eyes, searching mine. “You don’t believe me.”

  The words sounded almost accusatory, like I’d hurt him, and I blinked quickly in surprise. “No, I, uh…”

  Kyle handed me Beast’s leash and walked off, causing the dog to strain at the end, trying to catch up with him. I frowned, wondering what he was doing as he weaved through the crowd toward the band. He approached the female singer, who had just finished a song and was asking for recommendations. They exchanged whispers. She glanced at me, smiling, then nodded.

  Kyle strutted back to me, pride seeping from his big grin.

  “This next song is dedicated to Tessa from her husband, Kyle. He says she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I have to agree,” the lead singer announced as she pointed out Kyle and me to the crowd.

  Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I blushed deeply, taking Kyle’s hand for another dance. The crowd clapped and cheered, and not a single face looked horrified by a girl without hair in a bright pink scarf. I saw only affection and acceptance, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

  The band played another song, the lyrics about love and soulmates. It was perfect. It was us. We swayed against each other, Kyle humming near my ear, his cheek against mine.

  “You’re so sweet,” I murmured a few minutes later, feeling deliciously loved. Everything about this moment was simple but passionate. Muted, but loud in love.

  “I love you, Tessa.”

  “You didn’t have to do all this to tell me you loved me,” I reminded him, giggling and falling back on humor to ease my discomfort at being complimented. “Aren’t public displays of affection supposed to be embarrassing?”

  Kyle shrugged. “Love out loud, or don’t love at all. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is just letting the world know you found that something special everyone wants.”

  I leaned against his chest again, dancing slowly as Beast bounced at our feet. “I can’t believe you still like me without hair.” I sighed, smiling.

  “Like doesn’t even come close,” he said with a small chuckle. “You’re fucking gorgeous, babe, and I love it. I’d be more than happy to prove
it to you as soon as we get home.”

  I laughed at his innuendo, feeling as sexy and loved as he’d always made me feel. Pulling back slightly, I examined his expression. He was telling the truth— and possibly imagining me naked. “I wish I wasn’t putting you through this. You’re so amazing, and this is so…I just wish I wasn’t doing this to you.” I hated the pain my cancer was causing him. Even with our vows of in sickness and in health, I knew neither of ever expected the first part to come so soon. “I honestly feel like I’m such a shit wife. Like I have been for a long time.”

  The honesty poured out of me faster than I realized, and I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it. It was too real, too true, and I didn’t want him to know I felt that way.

  Kyle’s face twisted as if I’d just fed him a whole handful of lemons. “What? Are you serious?”

  Well, it was too late to back out of it now. I nodded slowly. “It’s not like I’m waiting at home for you every night with a warm dinner or even remember our anniversary unless you remind me.”

  “Okay, so you’re not the type of woman to remember dates on a calendar or slave away at new recipes every week. That doesn’t make you a good wife or not.” Kyle was adamant in his tone, his hands gripping my upper arms as he made sure our eye contact never broke. “But you text me silly GIFs of lady and the tramp slurping spaghetti when I’m having a long day, and you answer my mother’s phone calls even when I avoid her, and you let me put my cold ass feet on yours to warm them up even though you hate it.”

  “I…Well, yeah, but—”

  “You yelled at the dry-cleaning lady when she burned a hole in my favorite shirt and wrote them the most scathing Yelp review I’ve ever seen. You’re willing to defend me at the drop of a hat over something as minor as a shirt, Tessa,” he reiterated. “And remember that time the waitress at Tiki Tacos asked me for my number? You licked my face at the bar right in front of her and declared ‘Mine!’”

  “You yelled at me for that!” Tessa reminded him.

  “But I’ve never laughed so hard or loved someone so much,” he countered. “You make every day fun. You make every moment of my life worth living to the next. You’re my reason for going, and that makes you the most amazing wife a man could ask for.”

 

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