No Regrets

by Joy Argento

  I hesitated.

  “Never,” she repeated.

  I nodded. Tears cascaded down my cheeks. Beth leaned in and held me. Her shirt was soaked by the time she let me loose.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  I filled her in on all the details. I left out the part about how scared I was. But she was no dummy. I’m sure she figured it out.

  A nurse popped in, gave me some of that feel good, sleepy time drug, and popped back out. I was asleep by the time they came to wheel me to the OR.

  Beth

  I paced the entire length of the hallway waiting for Jodi to come out of surgery. When Dr. Daniels did appear, I couldn’t read the expression on his face, and panic touched the edges of my heart.

  “She came through just fine,” he said after a very long beat. “I’m glad she came in when she did. If she had waited much longer there was a chance there could have been some organ damage.”

  I was so relieved that I hugged him. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “Will you be tending to her once she goes home?”

  I wasn’t sure what Jodi would say about it, but I was going to whether she liked it or not. “Yes.”

  “Keep an eye on her for any changes, especially more vomiting. She needs to be able to keep food down. Make sure her eyes stay clear and white. We don’t want to see any yellowing. She had a list of side effects before the first surgery. I’ll make sure you get a copy too. Anything unusual, give my office a call right away.”

  “I will,” I promised. She could expect me to be all up in her face if she didn’t take care of herself—or let me take care of her. I wasn’t going to let her die because she was too pigheaded to ask for help.

  Jodi spent a total of three days in the hospital, and a final scan before she returned home showed the disc exactly where it should be. She was healing from the surgery, but her disposition bordered on depressed.

  She was unusually quiet and not forthcoming with her feelings, even when I asked her directly. She did let me take care of her, but she seemed to somehow resent it. I did my best not to take it personally—to blame the cancer and not her. I was determined to do whatever I could for her. I had trouble pulling down the bricks in the wall she seemed to be building between the two of us. The more I observed her, the more I realized she was building a wall between herself and the rest of the world. Even phone calls to her daughter were short and superficial.

  “Feel like toast?” I asked her. “Cause you look like toast.”

  She didn’t crack a smile. “Sure. Toast would be good.”

  I brought her the food and sat next to her. She finished it and set the plate on the coffee table. Everything she’d eaten since the second surgery was staying down. She really was feeling better physically.

  “You did great.” I pointed at the plate. “Keep that shit up.”

  Nothing.

  “Jodi, I know you’ve been through a lot, and having to have a second operation was disappointing. But you seem like everything is hopeless.”

  “I gave up hope for lent.”

  “Well, you screwed up on that one because lent is right before Easter and your timing is off.”

  She didn’t respond, just kind of pursed her lips tighter.

  “Look at me,” I told her.

  “What?”

  “Look at me,” I said more sternly. She slowly turned her head in my direction. “Are you feeling sick?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s going on? You are like this beautiful butterfly, full of color and brilliance that is just fading away.”

  “Yeah. Well, dying will do that to a person.”

  I felt my anger rise but forced compassion in its place. “No. Refusing to live will do that.” I grabbed the plate from the coffee table and put it in the kitchen sink. I sat at the table and let myself cry. Why wasn’t she fighting for herself? It was like she had given up before giving the medicine a chance to work. How could I make her see that she was giving up way too soon?

  Jodi

  I could hear Beth crying in the kitchen. I felt like an ass—probably because I was an ass. I had this wonderful person trying to help me, and while I was appreciative, I really wasn’t giving much back. Okay, I wasn’t giving anything back. I was trying to create a distance between us. Trying to spare her feelings when—if—I didn’t make it through this.

  Maybe I was being stupid. She’d told me she loves me. Maybe there wasn’t any sparing her feelings or saving her from heartbreak if I died. I had some thinking to do. I didn’t go to Beth. I thought she needed some time away from me. I certainly would if I were her. I definitely owed her an apology.

  Was she right? Was I refusing to live? I had watched my mother die. I had the same disease that killed her. I thought about the end of my mother’s life. Not the last couple of weeks when she had already given all she had to give, but the time before that. Right after her diagnosis she made a commitment to herself and my dad to live the best life she could with the time she had left. I hadn’t remembered that. My decision had been the opposite. I decided to lie down and wait to die. Beth was right. I had been refusing to live.

  The question now was how could I turn it around and how could I make it up to her? And I was determined to do just that. To everyone. It was time to stop trying to fight this on my own. It was hard for me to admit because I was always the caretaker, but I needed someone to take care of me for a while.

  Beth was still in the kitchen an hour later, but the crying had subsided. I pulled up all the courage and humility I could muster and gingerly pulled myself up off the couch. I was not only dealing with pain from the second surgery but discomfort from the first one as well. I took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen.

  Beth was sitting at the table with her back to me. If she heard me come in, she didn’t respond. I knew words weren’t going to be enough. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around her. I put my cheek next to hers and just stayed like that for several long moments, just soaking up her heat and letting my love for her flow through me. I was hoping that she could feel that love.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m an ass. Not a smart-ass. Just a regular ass.”

  “Yeah, you are,” she said without missing a beat.

  Okay, I deserved that. “Will you forgive me?”

  “I don’t know. I’m here for the long haul, but, Jodi…” She turned and looked at me. “You need to step up to the plate. You need to want to live and fight for it. I can’t do this all alone.”

  “I know.” And I did. It was time to live. I wasn’t sure how I was going to go from a mindset of dying to one of living, but I was going to do my best. Maybe the first step was to let Beth in. To really let her in.

  “You know what?” She wasn’t going to let me off easy.

  “I know I need to stop acting like I don’t care. Because I do, Beth. I really do. I care whether I live or die. I care about you. Deeply.”

  “Then I forgive you.”

  “Thank you.” It was all I could manage to say.

  “I want to take care of you.”

  “That’s hard for me. I’m not use to being the one needing care.”

  “You better get used to it because I’m not going anywhere. You can’t push me away.”

  “Thank you,” I said again. “If you ever need a kidney, I’m your gal”

  She hugged me. “We are trying to keep all your organs in your body. Don’t be so anxious to be giving them away.”

  “I was only offering it to you. It’s not like I’m putting an ad in the paper for a free kidney.”

  “Okay then. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten, you must be starving.”

  There she was stepping right back into the caregiver role. “I must look like toast.”

  She laughed. It was so good to hear after hearing the sound of her crying earlier.

  “You look like something more substantial. How about pizza?”

  “I look like pizza?”

&nbs
p; She grabbed her phone from the table. “No, silly. I thought we could order pizza. What do you think?”

  “I think I’m very lucky to have you in my life. And just for the record, I missed you terribly when you weren’t.”

  “Ditto,” she said. “Let’s never do that again.”

  “Deal.” I was feeling so much better. I wasn’t exactly sure why. Nothing had changed with my illness, but Beth, in her anger, gave me a different way to look at it.

  I was willing to do whatever it took to make my life count—whether that consisted of only months or many, many years. I was going to make the best of them. I still wasn’t sure how close to let Beth in. She was wrapped around my heart. Could I let her be wrapped around my life as well?

  Beth

  Jodi had a few minor side effects from the medicine they implanted, but she was otherwise healing well. The bouts of nausea and the metallic taste in her mouth improved when she added enzymes and eliminated gluten from her diet. Her attitude was much improved, and she did as much in the way of activity as her body would allow. She was still somewhat uncomfortable from the surgeries.

  She had an offer on her business but decided to turn it down. “I’m going to have to have something to do if—when—I get better? Right?” she said to me. I did have to promise that if she didn’t make it, I would sell the business and give the money to her kids. It wasn’t an easy promise to make. But I did it. The thought hurt my heart.

  We’d gone to a couple of movies and a to a play. It was all I could do not to reach for Jodi’s hand, but I was a good girl and kept my own hands safely in my lap. The thing I had missed the most when Jodi had pulled back, her humor, returned in full force.

  I returned to work and went back to sleeping at my own house. As much as I missed waking up in the same apartment as Jodi, it was so good to sleep in my own bed instead of on Jodi’s secondhand couch. Cindy was promoted to manager so I could work half days and spend the rest of the time with Jodi.

  “Want to go to the mall?” Jodi asked

  We had spent most of Sunday in her apartment binging Orange is the New Black on Netflix. I was learning all about the gay lifestyle—of women in prison anyway. Actually, I liked the kissing scenes and was pleasantly surprised that they turned me on.

  “I’m going a little stir-crazy today. I thought maybe we could walk around the mall, get a little exercise.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Let me just grab my purse.”

  I drove and we chitchatted along the way. I pulled in front of the main entrance and we did two laps around the mall at a slow but steady pace before deciding to check out the new bookstore.

  We went our separate ways once inside. I wanted to check out the woman loving woman books. I thought a little education wasn’t a bad thing. I hadn’t given up on Jodi and I being together some day. And I figured I should know what I was doing. I thumbed through a couple of books, absorbing the information.

  When I was finished, I went in search of Jodi. I found her in the self-help section. I looked at the title of the book she was holding, How to Find What You’re Looking For.

  “Are you looking for a man?” I joked.

  “No,” she answered. “I’m looking for a woman.”

  “I’m a woman.”

  She smiled. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked coyly, playing along.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you single?”

  I hesitated. Legally, not yet. In my heart, very much so. “Yes.”

  She plowed on. “Do you like girls? I mean…if you like girls, can I buy you a drink? And if you don’t, well, can I buy you a drink?”

  “You’re a girl and I like you.”

  “Close enough.”

  “But you aren’t supposed to drink.”

  She put her finger to her lip. “Shhh.” She leaned forward and kissed me softly on the lips. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee then.”

  I was at a momentary loss for words. We were in the middle of a bookstore and she had kissed me. And I didn’t care who saw it.

  “Was that okay?” she asked me.

  “Okay that you kissed me or was your technique okay? Yes, and oh yes. And I think you owe me a cup of coffee.”

  Her face lit up with a smile. I’m sure mine was just as bright. She slid her arm through mine and we walked to the coffee shop around the corner. I didn’t know what the kiss meant, if it was the start of something, but I was anxious to find out.

  Jodi

  I know Beth was surprised by the kiss. To tell you the truth, I had even surprised myself. I was feeling closer to her every time I saw her. I stopped fighting the growing feelings and stopped pushing her away. I knew she wouldn’t make the first move. She was respecting the decision I had made when she first said she wanted to be with me. I wasn’t sure how far or how fast I should take this, but that kiss was definitely the first step toward finding out. I knew it was ballsy to do it in a public place, but I couldn’t help myself in the moment. And Beth seemed fine with it, much to my relief.

  We ordered our coffee and found a couple of comfy chairs by the window. “I’m glad we got out for a while today,” Beth said.

  “Me too. If it’s nice tomorrow maybe we can go to the park and sit by the water after you get out of work.” I sipped my coffee and decided I needed to let it cool down a little.

  “Maybe we could feed the ducks. I can pick up a couple of loaves of bread.”

  “Oh no,” I said.

  “No duck feeding?”

  I shook my head. “We can feed the ducks, but not bread. It’s not good for them.”

  Beth laughed. “Just cause you’re off of gluten, no one can have it?”

  “I read it. Honest. I don’t lie—hardly at all—anymore.”

  “Anymore? Good to hear. So, what do we feed them? Chicken feed?”

  I tried my coffee again. Still too hot.

  “Need more cream?” Beth asked and was up getting it for me before I even had time to answer. She handed me several containers, and I added two to my coffee and sipped again.

  “Thank you. You take good care of me.”

  “You’re worth it. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  I thought about it for a second. Claire certainly hadn’t. “Nope. Just you.”

  “That’s cause everyone else is an idiot. Now tell me what we feed the ducks so I can pick some up.”

  “Cracked corn, frozen peas, or corn that’s been thawed, cut grapes.” I tapped my chin trying to remember what else I had read. “Oats.”

  “I think I have some instant oatmeal at home. Do you think they would like the apple and cinnamon flavor?”

  “Are you out of your mind? They shouldn’t eat that. They much prefer the maple and brown sugar variety.”

  Beth laughed out loud. “You’re such a goof.”

  “That’s why you love me.”

  She turned serious for a moment. “It is. It’s one of the many reasons.”

  The coffee shop was filling up, I suspected the nearby movie theater had just let out. The gentle hum of conversation replaced the silence that greeted us when we first walked in. “How many reasons are there?” I asked.

  She thought for a moment. “Six thousand, four hundred, seventy-two and a half.”

  “What’s the half?”

  “You squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. But you always clean any toothpaste that oozes out before you put the cap back on. Minus one for the squeeze and plus a half for the clean cap.”

  “You’ve got this down to a science, huh?”

  “Pretty much.” She sipped her coffee. Her tone turned serious. “Are you ready for next week?” Radiation. Five days a week for three weeks. The latest scan showed that the localized chemo they had inserted had shrunk the tumor by about ten percent. The next step, radiation, would hopefully shrink it even more. The smaller it was when they performed the final surgery to remove it the better all around. Was I ready? I guessed so. I wasn’t looking forward to it or the possibi
lity of side effects.

  I nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be to have a radioactive beam shot into my body.”

  “Stop it. You’re turning me on.”

  I laughed. The mouthful of coffee I had just taken threatened to come spewing out. I managed to swallow it down without choking. I continued to laugh until I had tears in my eyes. I needed this. I needed Beth. How could I have not recognized it sooner? I had been in such denial. I think I had wanted her since the first time we sat down and had a conversation. But so much had been in our way. Most of that was gone now, but not the cancer. I sent a silent plea up to the Universe for healing so I could live my life with Beth, if she still wanted me. I realized I hadn’t done that. I hadn’t asked the Universe, my spirit guides, or anyone else on the other side for help with this. How utterly foolish of me to try to face this alone.

  “You okay?” Beth asked. “You got very quiet there all of a sudden.”

  “Yep. I was just thinking.”

  “Care to share?”

  “I was thinking how grateful I am to have you. And how wonderful you are.”

  “That goes both ways, my friend.”

  Friend. That was the category I had kept her in. Forced her to stay in. I hoped it wasn’t too late to explore other possibilities.

  “What do you say we blow this Popsicle stand?” I asked.

  “What? What does that mean?”

  “You’ve never heard that before? Do I have to teach you everything?”

  “There’s a thing or two I’m willing to let you teach me.”

  I was getting the feeling she hadn’t changed her mind about being with me. The thought sent a tingle through me, and I was momentarily lost in the feeling.

  “Well?”

  “Um…”

  “What does it mean?”

  Oh that. I had completely forgotten the question. “It means let’s get out of here.”

  “That’s a funny way to say it.” She stood, reached for my empty coffee cup, tucked it inside of hers, and offered me a hand. I accepted the help and carefully boosted myself up.

  “Here we go,” she said. “Blowing this Popsicle stand.”