by Cameron Hart
I rush out into the hallway to take the call in private.
“Hello? This is Luna Foster.”
“Ms. Foster, this is Dr. Stanhope’s nurse, Sandra.”
“Yes, yes, what’s wrong? Is Lucas ok? Did he get through his chemo appointment?” I’m trying, unsuccessfully to keep the panic out of my voice.
“He fainted about half-way through. We have him in the ICU right now, under observation. Ms. Foster, I think it’s best you come down here. We’re still running tests—”
“I’m on my way.” I hang up without giving her the chance to finish.
Running back into the office, I don’t even take time to shut down my computer or talk to anyone. I just grab my purse and coat and rush out. I can practically feel Tiffany staring daggers into my back as I storm into the elevator, but I don’t have any energy left to care. I feel like I’m walking through water as I finally step into the elevator.
After the longest thirty minutes in the history of the world, I make it to the hospital. I follow some signs to the proper parking place – who knew there were so many options? I swear they built three new parking lots since the last time I was here. In a daze, I stumble into the hospital and make it to the front desk of the ICU.
“Lucas,” I pant out. “Lucas Foster.”
The lady at the front desk furrows her brow, but then looks up at me and must see my desperate, panicked state. She takes pity on me and gives me his room number without hesitation. I take a deep breath and brace myself for what I’m about to see. During the last year, Lucas has been in and out of the hospital dozens of times. Even though I’ve seen him in all states of sickness while lying in a hospital bed, I never get used to it.
Sure enough, when I open the door and see his too-skinny body full of sedatives in bed with tubes sticking out of him and his skin almost matching the bleached-white sheets, I almost collapse. It never gets easier. Cancer is a fucking bitch.
I walk on unsteady legs over to his bedside and take his cold hand in mine.
“Hey, Lucas. No need to be dramatic. I’m here now,” I tease, but then choke back a sob.
I look around at the monitors and grab the chart at the foot of the bed. After being in the hospital as many times as we have been this last year, I’m pretty good at understanding what all of the numbers mean. ECG reading, oxygen levels, blood pressure, PAP reading. He looks stable for now, though I know his blood pressure is low, which probably contributed to the fainting spell.
Just then, Dr. Stanhope walks in.
“Luna,” he greets me. “Sorry to meet again under these circumstances.”
I nod, not trusting my voice right now. He holds his hand out for the chart I’ve been looking over.
“We ran a full blood test, and, well…”
“Just tell me,” I snap. I take a deep breath and try again. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed, but that’s no reason to be rude.” I run my hands through my hair, gathering it up and bringing it over my shoulder so I can twist it and nervously play with the ends.
“I understand. His white blood cells are extremely low, which could be from the treatment, but also could indicate rapid tumor growth. I’ve scheduled an MRI as soon as possible, but you know how these things work. It may be a few hours, or even tomorrow. He’s stable for now, as I’m sure you’ve already read in his chart.”
I nod, taking it all in. Dr. Stanhope says something else, but I don’t pay attention. He leaves shortly after, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
“Please, please, Lucas. You have to fight this. You have to get better, buddy. I need you,” I whisper before resting my head down on his hospital bed, next to his hand.
I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I know, I feel a hand on my head, patting me gently.
“Hey, Luna. Nice of you to join me.” It’s Lucas, his voice a little scratchy and strained.
I smile at him, flooded with relief that he’s awake.
“I couldn’t miss all the excitement,” I tease as I grab for the water next to his bed. I help him drink it and then sit down next to him.
“How long have I been out?” He asks.
I reach for my phone to check the time, ignoring the missed calls from work, no doubt. I can’t think about all of that now.
“I got the call about you fainting at two, and it’s almost eight p.m. now.”
“Ah, so I got a good little nap in.” He tries laughing but ends up coughing. I help him sit up so he can work through it.
Trying to get the focus off of him, Lucas motions towards the remote. “Think Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives is on?”
I grin. “What is it with guys and that show? I don’t understand. Doesn’t it just make you hungry?”
“Luna, Luna, Luna,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment. “If I have to explain it to you, you’d never get it. Maybe after a few more episodes you’ll learn to appreciate the genius behind Guy Fieri.”
“Mmmhmm…” I roll my eyes.
Of course he flips right to the channel, and it’s on. It’s always on, which truly boggles the mind. We fall into an all-too familiar pattern of watching crappy tv, interrupted every once in a while by nurses coming to check vitals. We both fall asleep with the tv still on to drown out the worries and bad dreams.
✽✽✽
“Luna, earth to Luna.” I feel something bounce off of my forehead.
“Did you just throw a raisin at me?” I ask Lucas.
He shrugs and then grins in that mischievous way of his. It’s good to see him like this. He even has a little bit of color back in his face. It’s been two days since he was admitted. We moved out of the ICU last night after finally getting the results of the MRI. Sure enough, the chemo was the cause of his drop in white blood cell count, as well as his sudden drop in blood pressure, though there is still some concern over the tumor by his lungs.
Dr. Stanhope said we should stop the treatments for now, in favor of some alternative methods. All I heard was expensive methods, though I know none of that should matter as long as Lucas gets better.
Right on cue, Karen shows up, aka, billing lady of doom, which she will henceforth be known as. Her and I have had several talks over the last year. She gives a brief nod to Lucas and then stares at me, knowing I’ll follow.
“Luna,” she starts. “I see you applied for a few of our grants that help with medical costs.”
I nod my head, hoping for good news. God knows I could use some right about now.
“Unfortunately, the salary with your new job disqualifies you from receiving any financial aid.”
My stomach drops. Yeah, the new job pays well, but not so well that I can just pay for tens of thousands of dollars of treatments without any sort of help. I already feel like I’m drowning, like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with Lucas, let alone how to navigate the world of medicine and payments and loans and debts. I’m twenty, I don’t know how to do any of this shit! But I can’t dwell on that now. I can’t think about anything. Not yet.
I see her getting ready to spew out more information that I can’t handle, so I put a hand up to stop her. “Listen, Karen, I find it completely reprehensible that you are bugging me about payments while my brother is still in the damn hospital.”
“Yes, well, that’s usually not the protocol, but you have several overdue payments, and now with the lack of financial aid, and the healthcare papers you filled out—”
“Are you going to kick a cancer patient out? Do you even have the power to do that?”
“Well, no, of course not.”
“Then this discussion can wait. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m stressed out of my fucking mind, and the absolute last person I want to see in the whole world, is you.” Too far? Maybe. Ask me if I care right now.
Karen looks shocked, which satisfies me greatly.
“Alright then. I’ll check back in a few days.”
“Great,” I tell her with all of the sarcasm I can muster. I take a cleansing br
eath and unclench my fists before walking back into Lucas’ room.
“Everything ok?” He asks.
“Yeah, just some details to work through. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Luna…”
“Seriously, it’ll be fine. I bet that stupid show you love is on,” I try diverting attention as I sit down.
He looks weary of my response, but he lets me have this out. We settle in for another night of crappy tv.
“Psst, Luna. Luna,”
“Huh?” I snort awake, rubbing a crick in my neck from the uncomfortable chair I fell asleep in. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?” I hop up, still groggy from my impromptu nap.
“I’m good, I’m fine,” Lucas reassures me. “You should go home. Get an actual night of sleep instead of a few hours here and there.”
“I’m not that tired,” I say right as I yawn. Lucas smirks, knowing he’s going to win.
“Seriously. No offense, but you smell. And you look terrible,” he gives me an overly dramatic grimacing face.
“You always know just what to say to me to make me feel special,” I deadpan.
He laughs. “For real, Luna. You gotta take care of yourself, too. Go home, take a shower, get some sleep. Shouldn’t you check in with work? I don’t want you losing your job because of me.”
At his reminder, I get anxious all over again. I’m sure I’ve been fired, though I haven’t gotten an email or a voicemail saying that yet. I know he’s right. I’m exhausted. That last conversation with billing lady of doom drained every drop of my energy.
Lucas must sense that I’m about to give in.
“Do it, go home, on the count of five. One, two, three—”
I throw a pretzel at him, and he laughs. “Alright, alright. I’ll go,” I sigh dramatically.
I gather all of the wrappers from the vending machine meals I’ve had over the last few days and dump them in the waste basket. Right before I leave, I turn around and ask if I can get him anything.
“No! Now go before I page a nurse and have them escort you out of here for disturbing me,” he jokes.
I roll my eyes and close his door.
Once in the parking lot, I search for my old car. Only, I can’t find it. It’s dark out now and looking at my phone I see it’s almost midnight. I remember having trouble figuring out which parking lot I was supposed to go to, but I’m pretty sure I’m in the right place. I’m just turned around, that’s all. I must be delusional or something from the lack of sleep.
I head back inside to the front desk. Maybe they can point me in the right direction.
“Hi, I can’t seem to find my car. I parked in the… blue lot. I think.”
“That’s short-term parking. If you’ve been there for more than twelve hours, your car is probably towed.”
“What?”
She repeats herself and gives me the number of the towing company. I mumble out some sort of thanks, or at least I think I do. How many more hits can I take before I fall apart completely?
I start walking towards the bus stop I know is a few blocks away. The bus only runs every few hours this late at night, but luckily there is one scheduled to come in fifteen minutes. At least one thing is going my way today. I scrounge around in my purse for bus fare. Good thing I have a few bucks left in quarters from cashing out that last twenty for coins for the vending machine.
The bus comes and I hop on, fighting sleep. My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, and my eyelids droop and then close. I’ll just close them for a second…
“Miss? You gotta get up. It’s the end of the line.” A gruff voice startles me awake.
“Oh, sorry,” I mumble. I gather my things and stumble out of the bus. Only, instead of being anywhere near my apartment, I’m in front of what looks to be abandoned warehouses.
“Wait!” I call out at the last minute before the bus driver closes the door. “Where am I?” I thought this was the B route to south Bronx?”
“Sorry, babe. You got the wrong bus. This is the seventeen, to Brooklyn.”
“Fuck.”
“I’m taking my fifteen-minute break, and then you can hop back on at the stop down the block and I can drop you off in front of the hospital,” he offers. I already know I don’t have enough cash for the return trip, let alone another bus back home.
“No, thanks,” I wave him off.
“Suit yourself,” he shrugs before closing the doors.
“Motherfucking goddamn fuck… shit!” I yell into the universe once the bus is gone.
I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts, knowing I really only have one friend in the world. I didn’t realize until just now how isolated I’ve let myself become. I knew my friend group had diminished – cancer has a way of weeding out your true friends, for better or worse – but I didn’t notice that Sarah is really the only person who even talks to me anymore. And we don’t even talk that often.
I sigh and dial her number, hoping, praying, pleading with every god I can think of that she answers.
No such luck. I try again, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I’m almost at my breaking point, but I know I have to keep it together just a little bit longer. I can’t break down here. I just have to get home. Scrolling through my contacts again, my thumb hovers over Declan’s name. I had to get his cell phone number to add him to the project management app.
Would he answer his phone this late? Would he pick up if he saw it was me? Do I even have a job anymore? Does it matter if I can somehow get a ride home?
I shiver against the cool wind, which makes my hand shake and my thumb press down on Declan’s name. Well, I guess the decision was made for me. Thanks, universe.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
“Luna?” His deep, silky smooth voice drifts through the phone. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think there was a hint of worry in his voice. But that can’t be right. It’s probably annoyance.
“Hello? Luna?” He asks again.
“Hi,” I squeak out. I clear my throat and try again. I need to get through this before I lose my nerve and hang up. “I parked in the blue parking lot and my car was towed and… and I’m stupid and took the wrong bus and now I’m in some abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn and I don’t have enough cash to get on another bus because I spent it all in the vending machine and I just need a ride home. I’m so tired. I’m sorry, I don’t have any other friends, not that you’re my friend, I just meant I don’t have anyone, and I’m sorry, I just need a ride. You don’t have to come, you can just send someone. You have a driver, right? I’ll pay you back for his services. You can take it out of my last paycheck. I just… please? I don’t have anyone else…”
I end my pathetic rant that I hope made some sort of sense.
There’s silence on the other line, but I still hear him breathing. Surely, he wouldn’t just leave me out here, right? He might hate me, and he’ll probably fire me after this, and he’s cold, but he’s not heartless, right?
“Send me your location. I’ll be there soon.”
With that, he hangs up. They are the sweetest eight words I’ve ever heard him say to me.
Chapter 9
Declan
When my phone rang at one-thirty in the morning, I had every intention of yelling at whoever the fuck dared to wake me up at this hour. But then Luna’s name flashed across the screen and panic gripped my heart for some strange reason.
I’ve been thinking about her more than I should… missing her more than I should these last three days. I finally had a reason to fire her – I think the board would agree that leaving in the middle of the workday and not coming back for days on end without any sort of communication is grounds for dismissal. But I found that I didn’t want her gone. I just wanted her back.
I tried not to worry about her, tried pushing her out of my thoughts, but how can you forget someone like Luna? I mean, shit, her desk alone is colorful and distracting reminder of
the bright and eager young woman who somehow got under my skin.
I can’t count how many times I looked up from my desk these last few days, expecting to see her in some ridiculous outfit, typing away at her computer with that damn orange blanket draped over her shoulders.
And here she was, my personal temptation, the object of my inappropriate fantasies, calling me in the middle of the night.
Luna rambled on about vending machines and busses and a blue parking lot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was drunk. But somehow, I know she was telling the truth when she said she was exhausted. I could hear it in her voice, in her desperate tone, how she pleaded with me and told me how she had no one else. Something about that broke me deep inside. I felt an unfamiliar pain for the girl. It wasn’t pity, it was a genuine heartache. It made my chest tight.
I shove those feelings aside and call up my driver. Raul seems a bit groggy but promises to be at my door in twenty minutes. I tell him I’ll pay him five-hundred dollars on the spot if he gets here in ten. I don’t want Luna to be left out all alone in the cold for any longer than necessary.
She sent me her location as soon as we hung up. She is in Brooklyn, which is a good enough part of the city on its own, but it’s still New York, which means no place is truly safe after dark. She somehow wound up in an old abandoned warehouse district, which is even less safe.
I pay Raul the five-hundred, and then promise another five-hundred if he can get me to Luna’s location in under twenty minutes. Normally getting to Brooklyn from my penthouse in Manhattan would take thirty minutes or more, even at this hour, but I have faith that Raul can do the impossible. That’s what I expect from all of my employees, for better or for worse.
Before long, Raul is pulling up to the curb and parking in front of a bus stop. I almost don’t see Luna, but then I catch sight of the red, form fitting slacks she was wearing the last time I saw her. She’s been wearing the same outfit for three days… what the hell happened to her?
I hop out of the back seat right as Luna steps towards the car. She looks like she’s been hit by a fucking semi, her clothes a wrinkled mess, her hair all frazzled like she’s been running her delicate fingers through it and pulling at it. What grips me the most, however, are her eyes. They look sunken and so… defeated.