Kady sprawls herself out in the first-class seat and plunks her stuffed unicorn next to her. The staff treats us like royalty—more attention than they usually give at the front of the plane. It must be because we’re on a wish trip.
I shove that thought out of my mind and enjoy the time with Kady and my new wife. Kady soon settles down and watches a movie. Sutton leans against me and soon falls asleep. I yawn, but manage to stay awake. Kady tells me about the plot—cartoon unicorns and horses who run a town and have to fight bad guys.
Every inch of me aches as we make our way off the plane, find our luggage, and climb into another limo.
“Another one?” Kady squeals.
“This one will take us to the beach house.” Sutton gives her a tired smile. “We can finally relax.”
Kady’s smile fades. “We’re not going to the movie?”
I pick her up. “Tomorrow, little princess. It’s been a busy day already.”
She yawns. “I guess I am tired. But we’re really going tomorrow?”
“I promise.”
Kady snuggles against me and just a moment later, soft snores sound. I carry her into the limo and sit so as not to wake her, then turn to Sutton. “Poor thing must’ve been trying to stay awake all day.”
She nods. “I can’t believe she hasn’t had a nap since this morning.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited.”
“Do you think she’ll get enough rest for tomorrow? Maybe we should’ve planned for a down day before going to the movie set.”
“We’re going in the late morning, remember? That’ll give us plenty of time for some r-and-r.”
Sutton snuggles against me. “I don’t know how I’d get through any of this without you.”
My heart warms. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Sutton
The soft waves roll over my feet and I dig my toes into the sand, enjoying the warm sun beating down. Just off to the side, Anchor is running down the coast with Kady on his bare shoulders. Her happy squeals bring a smile to my face. The sight of them makes me so happy.
I pull out my phone and take some pictures so I don’t forget the moment.
She’d been so tired, she hadn’t woken after falling asleep at the limo the night before. As a result, she was confused when she woke in a strange house. Anchor had swept in and comforted her before I even made it over to her.
Water splashes my bare legs as they run past. He glances back. “Sorry!”
“It’s fine!” I snap a few more pictures and glance at the time. A few more minutes of play before heading to the movie studio. I switch the camera to video and record them as they head back my way, this time stepping out of the way before getting splashed again.
Kady belly-laughs and pulls on Anchor’s hair.
“Easy there! That’s attached.” He winces and lets go of one leg to pull her fist from his hair.
She laughs even more, then he stops and sets her down on the sand. Kady plops down and starts building a sandcastle. Anchor rubs his head. “That’s some grip you have.”
“Sorry.” She giggles.
“You don’t sound sorry.” He winks, then kneels and helps her.
I join in and resist the urge to take more pictures. Sometimes you just have to experience the moment.
Before long, we’re traipsing back to the beach house to get cleaned up. The cab arrives just as we’re getting our shoes on.
“No limo?” Kady asks.
Anchor gives her a teasing sideways glance. “Someone getting a little spoiled?”
“No!” She sticks her tongue out at him and bursts into a fit of giggles.
“Who wants to go to the movie studio?” I wave them toward the door.
“I do!” Kady jumps up. She takes a few steps, then stumbles.
My breath hitches.
Anchor scoops her into his arms. “Then let’s go!”
I hide my worry as I lock the door. It’s getting harder and harder for her to walk. Her coordination is deteriorating. It’s not getting worse before it gets better. It’s just going to keep getting worse. We’ve met other kids with DIPG in various stages. I’ve read countless stories.
This is the beginning of the end. How fast everything goes is anyone’s guess.
My mind swirls as we ride to the studio. Kady is at least happy. Oblivious to her future.
Why can’t I just enjoy this trip? We’ve been given so much, and she’s so happy.
But she doesn’t know how it’s going to end.
I wish I could trade places with her, but that isn’t how it works. I wouldn’t get to see her grow up, but at least she would.
Stop!
Why can’t I think about anything else? I’m going to ruin everything if I can’t just enjoy this. I’ll probably look back and regret not throwing myself into everything like Anchor is. If only I could.
Somehow I manage to pull myself together when we get to the studio. A man and a woman give us a warm welcome, offering us shirts, pins, stickers, and the like. They show us around, giving us the grand tour.
Kady can barely contain her excitement when she sees the life-size animatronic Sparkles.
The woman looks around, then whispers to Kady. “Do you want to ride Sparkles? Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Kady nods and pretends to zip her lips. Then Anchor lifts her up and sets her on the unicorn. Her eyes widen, then she laughs.
I get pictures of everything. After she’s done “riding” the unicorn, we go to a few of the sets and Kady gets to act out some scenes with actors from the movie. I get videos, but they also do with the actual stage equipment and the cameraman tells her that she’ll be in the movie.
After acting, Kady stumbles over to us and leans against Anchor.
We exchange a glance, knowing that she’s tiring out already. He picks her up and carries her for the rest of the tour. By the end, she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.
I thank them profusely, and they load us up with more Sparkles the Movie stuff. As soon as we step outside, Kady is asleep, nestled against Anchor. We managed to get her and all the swag into the beach house. He lays her on the bed and I set up the new stuff around her so she can wake up and feel like she’s back there.
Anchor puts his arm around me. “How are you holding up?”
I blink back tears. “Better than she is.”
He kisses my cheek. “It’s been a busy couple of days. We’re all tired.”
I nod, afraid to speak. If I talk, I might crumble. And I’m too exhausted to fall apart right now.
“Why don’t we take a nap too?”
“What if she wakes up scared again?”
Anchor threads his fingers through mine and kisses my hand. “She knows where we are now. Everything will be fine.”
“Okay.” I take a quick picture of her surrounded by all the unicorn stuff, sleeping soundly. Then I start to post pictures of our day on social media.
He takes the phone from me. “The world can wait. This vacation is for us.”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
We go into the next room and climb into the unmade bed. Anchor pulls me close, and soon his breathing grows deep. I’m unable to fall asleep. I want to sneak away and watch Kady sleep. Make sure she’s okay. I hate having her in the next room when she’s so weak.
But I don’t move. I just listen to Anchor’s rhythmic breathing and let the memories of the day run through my mind. Will Kady actually be in the movie, or did they just tell her that? Not that she’ll likely know either way, but I will. They better have told the truth to my dying daughter.
My eyelids grow heavy, and though I fight sleep, it takes me captive. Away from my family. Images of the studio haunt me. Instead of the friendly rainbow unicorn, Sparkles chases after me with sharp teeth and red eyes. She wants Kady and knows I’ll lead her to my daughter. I run and run until it’s night. But not just any night. The night of the crash. Kade is in my arms and his blood cov
ers me. Sparkles shows up, teeth sharper than before. Kady appears inside Kade’s car. The unicorn sees her first and leaps toward her. Kade is calling for me. Kady is crying for me. Sparkles is almost at Kady, her teeth growing longer and sharper.
I sit up, gasping for air. It was only a dream.
Only a dream.
But my heart is beating out of control. I can barely breathe.
I’m alone in the room.
Where is Kady?
I leap from the bed and skid into her room. She’s not there, either.
Noise sounds from the living room. I spin around and run.
They both look at me, wide-eyed.
“Are you okay?” Anchor asks.
It takes me a moment to realize Kady’s okay. They’re just playing a board game on a fluffy throw rug. A unicorn version of Chutes and Ladders. And I’ve ruined the moment.
“Sorry. I had a bad dream.”
Anchor steps over the board and pulls me close. “I’ll always be here for you.”
I’m glad he didn’t say everything is okay—because it’s not. It won’t be. Ever.
Thud!
We both spin around. Kady is flat on her stomach. I pull away from Anchor and race to her, pulling her into my lap. “What happened? Are you okay?”
She gasps for air. “I fell.”
“How?”
“I wanted to give you a hug, but I fell.”
I squeeze her tightly.
Anchor wraps his arms around both of us. “Did you trip, sweetie?”
Kady shakes her head no. “Just walking.”
“Did you slip?” I ask, even though I’m sure I know the answer.
“Just walking.”
My heart sinks. I force a smile. “It happens. Can I join the game?”
“Yeah. We just started a new round. I beat Daddy!”
“Good job!”
We gather around the game and play several rounds, letting Kady win each one.
“I’m hungry.” Kady rubs her belly.
Anchor rises. “What do you want to eat? The fridge is stocked, and I can make something. Or we can order in or go out. It’s up to you.”
“Pizza? Here? We could eat it on the beach.”
“Pizza on the beach it is.” Anchor pulls out his phone and walks out of the room.
I put the board game away and set it on the long kitchen table.
Thud!
My heart sinks again, and I race back to the living room.
Kady looks up at me from the floor. “My legs aren’t working right.”
I scoop her into my arms and fight tears. “It’s okay.” It’s not, but what else can I say? The truth is too harsh of a reality for a little girl.
“Why aren’t my legs working?”
This isn’t the conversation I want right now. Or ever. I take a deep breath and consider my words.
“It’s because of the owie in my head, isn’t it?”
I stare at her, hardly able to believe she figured it out. Unable to find my voice, I just nod.
“It’s why I can’t see right, and why I get headaches. When’s it going to go away?”
My throat closes.
“Pizza’s ordered!” Anchor marches into the room, but stops suddenly. “What’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath. “Kady’s having trouble with her legs.”
“It’s because of my owie.” She rubs exactly the right spot on the back of her head.
I hate that she knows where it is. I hate that it’s there at all.
Anchor steps closer, then kneels. “Let me see.”
I’m about to protest when Kady struggles to her feet. I help her and let go, but barely. I keep my hands inches from her to keep her from crashing to the ground again.
She takes a shaky step, then another.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe the falling was just a fluke and she’s okay now.
Kady picks up her pace and heads straight for Anchor. One solid step. Then another. And another.
It was just a fluke, after all.
Then she turns. Corrects herself. Walks toward Anchor again.
We both breathe a sigh of relief.
Just before she reaches him, she turns again. Walks right into the wall.
Anchor jumps. My mouth falls open.
He pulls her into his embrace. “Try again.”
She nods, a determined expression on her face.
Kady tries walking between us several times, and each time her path gets worse. Her legs aren’t doing what they’re supposed to.
The pizza arrives, and we get her set up on the sand outside. Neither of us take a slice. We just exchange worried glances.
“I’m going to get drinks.” Anchor heads for the house.
I stop him, out of earshot of Kady. “What are we going to do?”
“We’d better call the doctor.”
My stomach twists. “Okay.”
“You want me to make the call?” Tears shine in his eyes.
My knees give out.
He reaches for me and holds me close. “Go sit with her. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” There’s such a finality in his voice.
We both know there is no turning back. It’s only going to get worse from here on out.
I have no words, so I turn around and sit with Kady. She talks about riding Sparkles. I barely follow her. I try, but I’m shaking and trying to hide it. At least she doesn’t seem to notice.
Anchor
We walk through the street fair, taking turns pushing Kady in her new purple stroller. It’s the only way she can get around without one of us carrying her.
“Look!” Kady points to a clown who’s juggling fruit.
I stop to let her watch, even though clowns creep me out. Sutton and I exchange a glance. Her eyes are bloodshot and dark bands rest underneath them, even with makeup. I know I look worse since I refused to let her use any cover-up on me.
The middle of our vacation was turned into a nightmare when Kady screamed and pleaded with us not to make her have another scan before the anesthesia quieted her.
After hearing about the deterioration of Kady’s walking, the doctor had ordered another scan at a local hospital. It had been even more traumatic being in a new place with unfamiliar nurses. They were sympathetic, but that didn’t change the fact that Kady knew what was coming.
Now it was a waiting game. Waiting for the results to be sent over to our doctor and for him to call us with the news. Not that we’re dumb. We know what he’s going to tell us. The mass hasn’t shrunk. It’s bigger.
My guess is that he’s going to want us to fly home early so we can give her more treatments. Start a more aggressive plan.
Sutton and I keep checking our phones even though we both have them on full volume. Everyone around us will hear our phones ring.
We watch the juggling clown until Kady gets bored. Before long, we come to some dancing dogs. She claps and insists we stop. Since we only want her to be happy, we go along with whatever she wants.
Sutton’s phone rings, and sure enough, it’s so loud that people stop and stare. She leans close to my ear. “I’m going to answer over there, where it’s quieter.
I nod. “I’ll stay here since Kady’s enjoying the dogs so much.”
She accepts the call and weaves around the crowd.
I kneel next to Kady. “Which one’s your favorite?”
She points to a chihuahua in a tutu dancing on its hind legs and claps. Then she leans back against her seat, her eyes looking heavy.
“Do you want to go back to the beach house and get a nap?”
“No!” She widens her eyes.
“Okay.” I rise and glance in the distance for Sutton. She must still be talking to the doctor because I can’t see her anywhere.
The people in charge of the dogs bring out a St. Bernard, who marches a circle around the other dogs. I kind of hope the big dog will get on its back legs and dance like the little ones. It doesn’t.
A hand rests
on my shoulder. I turn to see Sutton. Her eyes are red and her mascara is smeared.
My heart drops to the cement and shatters. Whatever Dr. Mikaelson told her is going to crush me. The look on Sutton’s face has already done it.
I swallow. “Should we head back?”
She just nods.
My stomach lurches. The ever-present lump in my throat takes over my whole body. I take a deep breath and lean over to tell Kady that we have to leave and prepare myself for her protests.
But she’s asleep. It’s a relief because the last thing I want is to have to try and explain why we have to go. I blink back tears and maneuver the stroller around the crowd.
It takes about twenty minutes for us to walk back to the beach house. Neither of us speaks. My throat closes up every time I think about asking her what the doctor said. I don’t have to ask. She doesn’t have to tell me. I know.
Once inside, I cover Kady with one of her blankets and let her sleep in the stroller. If we try to move her, she’ll wake.
I need her sleeping while Sutton gives me the news. Whatever she says is going to render me useless, but somehow I’ll have to find it in me to comfort Sutton.
We go over to a couch that has a view of the ocean. Neither of us says anything for what could be five minutes or thirty. Time has ceased to exist.
Finally, I break the silence. “What did Dr. Mikaelson say?”
Sutton closes her eyes and clasps her hands together. I put my hands on top of hers and blink back tears. She shakes her head, tears spilling through closed eyelids.
I don’t want to ask, but I have to. “It’s not good, is it?”
She opens her eyes and turns to me. “It’s grown. A lot.”
“Does that mean more radiation?” It’s a dumb question, but I can’t ask the one I’m sure she’ll say yes to—are we out of options?
Sutton wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “There’s nothing left to do. The treatments will just upset her, and they won’t do any good.”
“What about Mexico? Or the experimental ones he talked about?”
She shakes her head and leans against me. “She won’t qualify for the experimental ones now.”
“Mexico?” I repeat. “We’re already in California.”
The Only Things You Can Take (Wildflower Romance #2) Page 23