No Regrets

by Joy Argento

  A light knock on the door and my doctor walked in, papers in hand. I couldn’t quite read the look on her face. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Anxious. What’s the verdict here? Did you find out what’s wrong with me?”

  “I did.” She paused and I sensed it wasn’t going to be good news.

  “You have pancreatic cancer.”

  What? No. No. No. What? My brain wasn’t firing correctly. People die from that. My mother died from that. That wasn’t stress. That wasn’t even hepatitis. That was cancer. That was a very bad cancer. I was going to die.

  “I know that’s hard to hear. I think we’ve caught it early. There are treatments. It’s not something we would have normally tested for given your age. But because of your mother I added it to our tests.”

  It didn’t make sense. I was going to die. Wait. What? Treatments? Treatments where all my hair would fall out and I would die anyway? Die without my hair. Nothing was making sense.

  “Jodi? I know this is a lot to take in. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “No.” No questions. Nothing more to say. I was going to die with no hair.

  “I’ve set up a referral for an oncologist. Do you have a certain doctor or place you would like to go to?”

  “No. I have no idea.” I needed my mother. But my mother wasn’t here. She had died. Died of cancer. I had cancer now. I would be dying soon. My thoughts turned to my kids. Annie with her father in Denver. She would be living with him permanently now. Andrew was stationed in Okinawa, Japan. They would be left without a mother. I knew how much that hurt. I didn’t want my kids to hurt that way. Beth. I needed to tell Beth.

  I had a million thoughts, yet my mind felt blank. Empty. Numb.

  I had cancer.

  Beth

  I waited a week after I left Al and moved back into my own house with Maddie before I contacted Jodi. I wanted to call but was afraid I would cry when I talked to her. I sent a text, like a coward. I simply said I wanted to see her. She waited a whole day before she answered. I was in a state of near panic the whole time. Her text back was just as simple.

  Can you meet me at my apartment tomorrow at noon?

  I answered immediately. Of course.

  She didn’t text back after that. I had no idea what to expect. The butterflies that took up residence in my stomach kept me from sleeping that night. The next morning, they kept me from eating breakfast. A cup of coffee and a whole lot of pacing were the only things that kept them even a little bit under control.

  I pulled into the parking lot of Jodi’s building several minutes early and sat in my car. Waiting. Watching the minutes tick by. At exactly eleven fifty-nine, I climbed the steps to her apartment, went down the hallway, and knocked on the door.

  She greeted me with a tight hug. When she released me and stepped back, she was still beautiful, but her eyes looked swollen and red. I could tell she’d been crying. She’d lost weight since I had last seen her. She looked drawn and I wondered if that was due to me and the hurt I had caused. The hurt I had hoped to make up for even if it took me the rest of my life. Because that’s what I wanted to give her—the rest of my life. Fully. Completely.

  “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” I said, still unsure of the reaction I would get.

  “Me too. But we need to sit down first.” She took my hand and led me to the couch. But she started talking before I had a chance to sit down. “I…um.” She started. “I haven’t been feeling too good lately.”

  I nodded. I could tell.

  “I have cancer. I’m dying.”

  “What?” I sank down on the couch. All the air left my lungs and I struggled for breath. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t.

  “Are you all right?” Jodi asked.

  No. I wasn’t all right. My world had just come crashing down on me. I brought my eyes up to hers. Concern radiated out to me. To me. Her concern was for me. That made no sense. None of this made sense.

  She sat by my side and I reached out to stroke her hair. Despite the news she had just shared with me, a tingle ran down my arm at the contact. I rested my forehead against hers. Tears leaked out of my closed eyes. “Oh my God,” I whispered. It was all I could manage to say.

  I felt her arms go around me and pull me in tighter. For a brief moment, the horrible truth left my mind and I was filled with the closeness of her. She felt so alive in my arms. How could she be dying?

  “What? How?” I managed to say after several long minutes.

  “Pancreatic cancer. The doctor said they caught it early, but I know the statistics for this aren’t good. I have a very bad feeling about it.”

  “So, no one actually told you you were actually dying? What did the doctor say exactly?”

  She filled me in on the details. I was still scared, but there was hope.

  “I left Al,” I blurted out.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “To be with you. I made a terrible mistake staying with him and losing you.”

  Her anger surprised me. She stood and turned toward me. “Now you leave him? You need to go back.”

  I fought back the tears. She didn’t want me anymore. “No. You don’t understand. I don’t want him. I want you. I was hoping you felt the same.”

  She turned her back to me. “It doesn’t matter what I feel anymore. Don’t you get it? I’m not going to be around.”

  I stood up and wrapped my arms around her. “Don’t say that.”

  She shook me off. “I have nothing left to offer you.”

  Now I was the one getting angry. She wasn’t going to push me away. Not this time. “I’m not asking you to give me anything. I’m asking you to let me give to you.”

  “No.” Was her simple answer.

  I pulled her back down to the couch with me. “I’m not letting you go like this.”

  “You won’t have a choice. I’m not going to push you out of my life, but don’t you understand that I don’t have much life left? I’m not trying to be overly dramatic here, Beth.”

  We would check out every option and treatment there was. She wouldn’t die. She couldn’t. I would make sure we turned over every stone. I wouldn’t give up. And I wouldn’t let her either.

  “Beth, we can’t be together. We had our chance and we didn’t take it. Now it’s too late.”

  I needed to figure out the right words to say to her, to make her understand that I was there for her. For whatever she needed. For however long she had. I tried again to explain, but my words fell on deaf ears. She had made up her mind, and apparently, I wasn’t going to be able to change it.

  “When is your next doctor’s appointment?” If she refused to be my partner at least I could be her friend.

  “Tuesday with the oncologist.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Beth—”

  “I’m going with you. I’ll pick you up. Tell me what time.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Tell me.”

  “I have to be there at ten a.m.”

  “I’ll be here at nine. Does that give us enough time?”

  “Beth, you don’t have to—”

  “Does that give us enough time?” I asked again, this time much more firmly.

  “Yes.”

  “When’s the last time you ate?” I got up and went to the refrigerator. “Huh? Last time?”

  “I think it was yesterday.”

  She didn’t have much in the way of food. I pulled out a package of lunch meat, sniffed it, and decided it was still good. I grabbed a jar of mustard and the bread from the counter and proceeded to make us both a sandwich. I didn’t have much of an appetite with everything that had just happened, but figured I had a better chance of getting Jodi to eat if I ate with her.

  I didn’t know how we were going to get through this, but I refused to give up. Whether she ever decided to be with me didn’t matter in that moment. Getting her back to health was the only thing that di
d. I knew next to nothing about pancreatic cancer, but I was determined to find out.

  Jodi

  There was no way I was going to let Beth throw her life away on someone who was dying. I had nothing left to give—to anyone.

  My mind was still numb from the devastating news. Bits and pieces of what I needed to do filtered through. Who did I need to tell? Should I let my kids know now or wait till this horrid disease had progressed more? I wanted to keep them away from my pain as long as possible. What about my business? I had orders for three signs I needed to work on. Should I bother? Should I close my business completely? Would my health insurance cover my end of life expenses or would I leave me kids with medical bills? My head was swirling, and I couldn’t seem to get it to stop.

  Too many questions and no real answers. Sleeping had become impossible. The exhaustion made reasonable thinking even more difficult.

  As she said she would, Beth was at my door Tuesday morning at nine o’clock to take me to my appointment. We pulled up in front of the hospital and she let the valet service park the car. I handed her the paperwork my doctor had given me and let her lead the way to the oncology department and check me in.

  It seemed to take forever before my name was called and we were led to a room in the back. We were left there alone for another fifteen minutes. Beth tried to make small talk, but my brain refused to engage enough to give her much more than one- or two-word answers.

  A tall man with a white goatee that was a shade darker than his white coat entered the room. “Miss Michaels?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m Dr. Daniels.” He extended a hand. I absently shook it.

  He turned to Beth. “Hello.”

  She introduced herself.

  “Sister? Friend?” the doctor asked her.

  She hesitated only a moment. “Friend. But more than that. Jodi is very important to me.”

  “Of course.” He turned to me. “I have your test results here. I understand your mother died of pancreatic cancer. I’m sure you’re scared. What she had was stage four, as I’m sure you know. We caught yours much sooner. So the prognosis can be much better.”

  “Can be?” He didn’t say it was. Only that it could be.

  “Yes,” he continued. “You have stage one. That means that right now it’s confined to the pancreas itself. It hasn’t spread. That’s a good thing. Treatment options include surgery, radiation, chemo…” He continued, but it was too much for me to take in. I glanced at Beth. She seemed to be listening intently. I hoped she was absorbing the information better than I was.

  “…and of course, there are several trials you can apply for.”

  “What are the trials?” Beth asked. “Do you know anything about their success rates?”

  He answered that and several other questions she asked about surgery and various treatments.

  I didn’t see the reason for all the questions. I was going to die. My mother died. I would be next. My children would be left without a mother.

  “Do you have any questions?” The doctor, I couldn’t remember his name, addressed me.

  I shook my head.

  “I’m sure this is a lot to absorb. We don’t want to wait too long before starting treatment, but you can take a few days to think about, talk it over with your friend here.” He nodded toward Beth. “I have a packet here”—he handed a folder to Beth—“with all the information I went over. Look through it and see what you think. I suggest you don’t use the internet for research. There is a lot of misinformation out there. I would be happy to answer any questions you have. My number is on the first page. Just leave a message with my service and I’ll get back to you.”

  Beth thumbed through the papers in the folder. “Are the current trials in here?”

  “They are. You can stop at the desk and make another appointment. I’d like to see you back within a few days so we can discuss a plan.”

  “I want you to come live with me,” Beth said on the ride home.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I just shrugged. There was no way I was going to become a burden to anyone. Especially Beth. I had been with my mother at the end. I knew what that was like. It was horrendous watching someone die, but the daily cleaning, feeding, and care was too much to ask of someone.

  “Did you hear anything that doctor said?”

  I nodded.

  Her voice went up in volume. It stopped just short of yelling. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I shrugged again.

  “Jodi, you’ve got to fight this,” she said. I could hear the compassion in her voice. “I want to be with you through this. I want to be with you, period.”

  “I’ve already said that’s not going to happen.” I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see the expression on her face. I didn’t want her pity—or her anger. The time had passed that we could ever be together.

  Beth

  Jodi was confusing and frustrating the hell out of me. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t willing to fight for her life. I had been afraid of the world seeing me loving another woman. Now I was afraid I would lose that woman forever.

  I dropped her off at her apartment. She didn’t invite me in and I didn’t push. I held off the tears until she closed the door to the apartment building behind her. I slammed my fists against the steering wheel until my hands went numb.

  I roughly wiped the tears from my cheeks and drove to my sister’s house.

  “You look like you’ve been crying. What’s going on? Is it Al again?” She hadn’t bothered to say hello. She gave me a hug. “Come on, let’s go out back. I’ll get us iced tea.”

  I followed her to the kitchen, where she poured two glasses of iced tea, and out the back door to the deck. I had always envied Jen’s backyard. She, like my mother, was a master at gardening. Flowers in an array of colors lined up along the edge of the house and stood at attention in a circle surrounded by a stone border in the center of the yard.

  I pulled out a chair and sat at the glass patio table. Jen set a glass of iced tea in front of me and sat on the opposite side of the table.

  A few tears leaked from my eyes. Without a word, Jen went back into the house and brought out a stack of napkins. I dabbed at my eyes.

  “Speak,” Jen said.

  “I left Al,” I started.

  “Oh, honey, that must have been so hard. I’m so sorry.”

  I let out a laugh. The irony of it all hit me. “That was the easy part.”

  “And what is the hard part?”

  “Do you remember Jodi?”

  “Of course.”

  I took a swallow of the tea. I needed a moment to compose myself. “She’s sick. Cancer.”

  Jen leaned forward. “Oh my God, Beth. I’m so sorry.” She reached her hand across the table and placed it over mine. “I know you were close.”

  “Close is an understatement.” It was time for the truth to be told. I had spent too much time running from it—running from myself.

  “What does that mean?”

  I looked my sister straight in the eye. I took a deep breath, then looked away. A few more tears ran down my cheeks. Not as easy as I thought it would be. “I’m…” I turned back to face Jen. “I’m in love with her. I have been for a long time.”

  I didn’t know Jen’s eyes could open that wide. It took her a moment to compose herself. “That’s not something…” She shook her head. “I’m just surprised…” She cleared her throat and started again. “Okay. Does she feel the same way about you?”

  “She did. I don’t know anymore. She seems to have given up on life. On everything. She just recently found out about the cancer and she’s not handling it well.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  I wasn’t sure what to expect from my sister, but her kindness surprised me. “Nothing. Just…I don’t know. I just needed someone to talk to. I don’t know what to do to help her. I can’t let her die. I just can’t.”

  “Of c
ourse not.” She handed me another napkin and I realized I had twisted the first one into a wet wad. “Does this mean you’re gay?”

  “I don’t know what it means.” That was the truth. “Do we have to label it?”

  “Have you been attracted to any other women in your life?” I guess the questions were to be expected. I never gave any indication that this was even possible.

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe you’re pansexual.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It’s a sexual or romantic attraction toward someone regardless of their gender. You fall in love with their heart.”

  “That sounds like it fits.”

  “Have you told anyone else this?”

  “I told Maddie about my feelings and why I left Al. She was very supportive. I haven’t told her about the cancer yet.” I wanted to know more about the treatment options and what decisions Jodi would make before telling her.

  “You left Al because of Jodi?”

  “I did. But when I told Jodi that, she said no. She said she didn’t have anything to offer.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “Freaking heartbroken. But the cancer and the fear of losing her…of her dying…” I closed my eyes. The possibility of her dying was more than I could bear. I cleared my throat. “Her cancer kind of overshadowed the fact that she had just rejected me. I’m still going to fight for her. Fight to be with her and help her fight for her life.”

  “And how are you going to do that if she won’t let you in?”

  “I have no idea. But I’m going to give it everything I’ve got.”

  Jodi

  It was hard to admit it to myself, but I was pretty pissed at Beth. Why couldn’t she have made the decision to leave Al and be with me before I got sick? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated her help now. I appreciated that she brought me to the doctors the day before. But it almost seemed like too little too late. She broke my heart when she chose Al over me. Chose a straight marriage that wasn’t working because it was easier for her. All I wanted was her back. Now that I had that chance I knew it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t going to be around much longer. No one said that to me, but that’s what I felt.