Shady Bay

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by Casey L. Bond


  June and Brody had stayed all afternoon and had made the most delicious-smelling chicken noodle soup while Jax and I napped. Well, he napped. I was pretty much catatonic. I probably had snored loudly and drooled all over him. Puking in front of him had been so embarrassing. I was not a puker. Some people puked frequently. I only vomited when there was no other alternative and I was dying.

  The timer on Jax’s phone went off right after he left to take a shower. I couldn’t reach it, so I just let it chirp. June must have heard it, because she came in and silenced it. “Wanna go downstairs and have some soup?”

  “I’ll go down with you, but I’ll wait for Jaxon to come down before I eat.”

  She smirked. Her black maxi dress suited her perfectly. “You’ve got it bad.”

  I smiled. “I know.”

  “Well, come on. Time for your pain meds.”

  “Yay,” I sarcastically replied. I knew I had to take them. In fact, the incision was starting to throb. I need them. After seeing my mom take anything she could get her hands on, I’d always promised never to take anything that I didn’t have to. But, right now, I had to take them. I’d just stop as soon as possible.

  When Jax came downstairs fresh from his shower, June served us each a bowl of her soup. I sipped lightly, afraid that my vomiting episode would replay. Thank goodness, it didn’t.

  The following couple of days repeated in much the same way. By Monday, I was about to climb the walls by way of my fingernails. Tuesday morning, I dressed myself, wound my hair into a thick bun and beat Jaxon to the car. He just chuckled as I fastened my seatbelt and exhaled into the warm sunlight.

  Dr. Golden was right on time. He was the most punctual physician I’d ever seen in my life. He smiled as he entered the exam room. Shaking my hand and then Jaxon’s, he plopped down on the little rolling stool. “Alright. Good news and bad news.”

  I snorted. Figured.

  He looked up at me and continued. “The good news is that we got the entire tumor out. The results are back. Bad news is that the results regarding the malignancy were inconclusive. As I explained to Jaxon after surgery, and it’s now been confirmed, you have a phyllodes tumor. Or, had one, rather. Phyllodes are rare and really strange. Some are benign, while others are clearly malignant. Your tumor was neither. Occasionally, phyllodes tumors fall into an ‘in between’ category. They are neither completely benign nor malignant, but fall somewhere in the border area in between. Yours was in this gray area. These types of tumors are rarely seen in women under the age of forty, but again, you don’t fit the mold, Mercy.”

  I rolled my eyes. Damn Cha-Cha for being so weird.

  Doctor Golden continued. “To be safe, I recommend a course of chemotherapy. Do you know what chemo is?”

  “I’ve heard of it, but I guess I need more information now.”

  Handing me a flyer with the word “Chemotherapy” printed across the top in thick, bright yellow font, it began to sink in. “Chemo is just a form of therapy we can use to help shrink and get rid of cancer cells that may have been left in the body after we removed the tumor.”

  Jaxon interrupted, “But I thought you got the entire thing out.”

  “We did. But to be sure there isn’t anything else, the cells in her body need to be sort of cleaned out. If any cancer cells remain that could cause a new tumor or different kind of cancer, the chemo would get rid of them. Your specific type of breast cancer is rare. We’ve only had a few cases, so I consulted with a colleague of mine who has seen many more cases that mirror your own. He suggested a course of action and I would recommend we follow it.”

  Golden went on to explain that every two weeks, I would receive an IV infusion of chemo medicine at the outpatient center. He said that the course of treatment would initially last three months but may be extended to six, or more if deemed necessary. This ‘dose-dense’ treatment was supposed to be effective ninety-eight percent of the time in cancer cases similar to mine. I couldn’t help wonder about the two percent for which the treatment was not effective, but wouldn’t let myself ask the question. I needed to be positive, and strong. I needed to kick cancer’s ass.

  Jax was at Shady tonight. I sat cross-legged on my bed with all of the pamphlets and paperwork that Dr. Golden had thrown at me. Chemo started tomorrow. I read through all of the horrifying side effects: anemia, diarrhea, fatigue, fertility problems, hair loss or changes, infection, memory loss, menopausal symptoms, nail changes, mouth sores, changes in smell and taste, vomiting, weight changes, and my favorite, vaginal dryness.

  I wondered how long Jaxon would still want me when I was balding, puking and crapping everywhere with a dry vajayjay. If I was allowed, I would have started in on a luscious bottle of Cabernet. But, no. Cha-Cha had to be difficult and cause all sorts of these problems. I guessed it was easier to blame her, be angry at her. In all honesty, I’d been lucky. I was lucky to have found her before she became full-blown cancer. But staring down the face of the trials I might be about to face, I didn’t feel all that lucky. I felt pissed off and scared.

  I packed all of the information away and sank into bed.

  The following morning, Jaxon woke me at eight o’clock. My appointment was at nine, so I was flustered. I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I rushed to get ready and took extra time blowing my hair dry, trying to memorize how it felt. It was long and blonde and thick. An idea popped into my head, but that would have to wait until later.

  Jax was tired. He closed at Shady last night and it had been a rough one. Two fights had erupted and one resulted in the police being called. He drove silently to the Center, his pretty eyes tucked behind his aviators.

  I was pretty much numb throughout the chemo process. It was basically medicine being pumped into a vein intravenously. I just had to sit there. Actually, I wound up falling asleep. I didn’t know why I was so tired. When I was given the okay to leave, I texted June.

  Mercy: Are you working?

  June: Not until 7pm. What’s up?

  Mercy: Can u hang out with me for a bit?

  June: Sure. Are you sick? How was chemo?

  Mercy: It was fine. I’m not sick. I need girl help.

  June: Meet you at your place at noon?

  Mercy: K

  “Jax, I’m going out with June this afternoon for a bit.”

  “What for?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He grumbled something, but turned in to the driveway. “Where are you going?”

  I climbed the steps to my condo. “I need a few things.”

  He nodded and stood still and quiet, just watching me. “You okay?”

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “You just took your first round of chemo and you’re asking me if I’m okay? I’m fine, baby. I just want to make sure you are.”

  I giggled. “Jax, I’m fine. I’m not made of glass. Go on up and lay down. I know you’re exhausted and have to close tonight.”

  He shifted his feet. “You sure?”

  “Yes. Now, go.”

  He laughed and trudged up the stairs. “Yes, ma’am.”

  June pulled in at noon. She was always right on time. Her face scrunched up behind her sunglasses when she saw me leave my place. I sat down beside her and buckled the seatbelt. “Trouble in paradise?” She ticked her head toward my condo.

  I giggled. “No. I just needed to do a few things and Jax needed to sleep.”

  “Cool. Where to?”

  “I need a haircut. And then lunch. Lead the way.”

  She drove me across town to a shop named, “Curl Up and Dye.” I loved it already. When I met Stephan, I loved it even more.

  Tall, dark and gay. Stephan squealed when he saw June and rushed over to air-kiss her cheeks. “Oh! Who is this, Juney?” He hugged me tight and air-kissed mine as well.

  “This is my best friend, Mercy. She needs your magic scissors.”

  “Girl, you are lucky. My twelve-thirty just cancelled! Come on over. Let’s shampoo first, and then we’ll talk about what y
ou want!”

  After he washed my hair in the best cherry-scented shampoo I’d ever smelled before guiding me to his station. One word came to mind: bling. Everything was blinged out. Blingy photo frames. Hell, his mirror was bedazzled. His mocha skin accentuated his white teeth. With Stephan, it was love at first clip.

  I left the shop with a short blonde pixie cut with a few purple streaks through the bangs. Stephan waved the baggie with all of my long hair in it as June and I giggled our way out the door. If my hair was going to fall out, I figured that someone might as well use it. Locks of Love had been my first thought.

  June’s text had been vague: Be nice. And supportive. That was it. I got dressed for another long night at Shady. The nights hadn’t seemed so long before Mercy came along. Hell, I often extended them myself with random girls, but now all I wanted was to get home to her.

  The front door opened slightly and I heard a horn honk outside before she opened it the rest of the way. Mercy stepped in with very short hair. She looked nervous, but never averted her eyes.

  I walked over to her quickly and kissed her full on the lips, raking my fingers through her short hair. I could see her throat and collar bones, the spot under her ear where she would moan when I licked it. Damn if I didn’t like Mercy with short hair. “Baby, you look fucking edible.” I spent as much time as I could proving just that to her before the second alarm I’d set on my iPhone went off. I was going to be late.

  I sat by the ocean, a cold sweat breaking out on my upper lip and forehead. I’d vomited more today than at any other point in my life. Hell, I’d vomited so much, there was nothing else to vomit, not that it kept my stomach from trying. It wasn’t a quitter. The ocean always calmed me down, so there I was, writing a letter to Daddy.

  Daddy,

  I got your letter yesterday. Thanks. It helped me get through the second round of chemo. The first round made me nauseous and I puked a few times, but this round has been a beast. I’m not even gonna lie. I don’t have the energy. I’ll get through this, though. Jaxon, Celeste, June, and Brody all take turns helping me.

  I didn’t need it the past few weeks, but I have a feeling that I’ll need it from this point forward. You know how I hate to depend on other people, how I hate to ask for help, or accept it. But I’m glad these amazing people have been put in my path and I wish I could see your face and hug your neck. I miss you so much.

  I’m glad you got a new cell mate. The last guy was a real piece of work. Hopefully, this one will keep his head down, like you. I love you and I’ll write again soon.

  —Mercy

  Celeste stepped onto the sand beside me. “Help me down?”

  “Celeste, you don’t have to sit here. I can walk back to the house.”

  “Pssh. I’m not a spring chicken, but I still like to enjoy the simple things in life. Sand in my crack just happens to be one of those things.” She grinned and stiffly sat down beside me. I regretted not bringing a towel or blanket. She really might get sand in her crack from this excursion. The wind whipped our hair and jingled her bangles. She kicked off her leather thong sandals and wiggled her toes into the sand. Her long skirt fluttered in the wind.

  “Jaxon’s going to be gone this weekend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “June is going on the photo shoot with Brody and that friend of hers?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re staying with me.”

  I started to protest. “Shut it. You are staying with me, young lady. And we’re going to have fun. And you’re going to like it.”

  I sighed and lightly laughed. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” My stomach started to cramp again. I prayed it would stop. I didn’t want Celeste to see me get sick.

  “Can I ask you a question, Celeste?”

  “You know you can.”

  “Am I dying?”

  Celeste narrowed her eyes at me and grabbed my hand with both of hers. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes tightly.

  “No. But you sure feel like you are. Why haven’t you told anyone about the vomiting?”

  “There’s nothing they can do.”

  “Jaxon said they could help you manage it.”

  “The medicine causes vomiting. No way around it.”

  “You are a stubborn girl, Mercy. But you are going to survive this. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  “Is that my friend Celeste talking, or psychic Celeste talking?”

  “She’s one and the same.”

  I smiled and hugged her shoulders.

  Two months later, I sat with Celeste in the waiting room of the Cancer Center waiting for Doc Golden to see me. My hair had slowly began falling out and I’d lost some big patches at this point. For a few weeks, I concealed my head with bandanas. But I’d decided over the weekend that bald was beautiful, and Stephan had graciously made a house call. He shaved my head until all you could see on top of the scalp was a shiny reflection of the fluorescent kitchen lights.

  Nurse Linda called my name and took me into the small room where I was weighed and my blood pressure and pulse were taken.

  I stood on the scale, my knees shaking with weakness. Her lips pursed together. “You’re losing too much weight, sweetie. You’re down twenty-three pounds and you were thin to begin with.”

  Celeste piped up. “Well, if you could give her something to stop the vomiting she does day and night, that would remedy the problem.”

  I shot death daggers at her with my eyes.

  “Well, it’s true. Mercy pukes twenty-four-seven.”

  Linda looked shocked. “You vomit daily?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Oh, honey, we might not be able to stop it completely, but we can give you something to help.”

  “Okay.”

  Dr. Golden looked me over, asked me more about the vomiting issue and wrote me a prescription for a medicine that would help. “Overall, you are doing really well with the treatment. We’ll see how this medicine helps. If you’re still vomiting every ten minutes after a few days, you need to call me. There are other medicines that I can prescribe. This one helps most people, but for a few, others might be better. It all depends on your body, okay?”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “I might not be able to make them disappear, but I can help you with any symptoms that are severe, Mercy. I promise, you’re not in this alone. Just call. Day or night. I have a pager. I’m glad to help you any time.”

  Tears flooded my eyes as he shook my hand and smiled. He left the room and the nurse came in with the horrific needle that would start this hell all over again. I smiled, trying to be strong. I would survive this.

  I’d been working every night. Summer was the most insane time at Shady and this summer was off the hook. We were at capacity from seven in the evening until closing at three in the morning. Those were my hours. Actually, my hours were more like five till four. I had paperwork to do before things got busy. Today was Sunday and I finally had a night off. Mercy was at her place. She started sleeping there a few weeks ago. It had pissed me off, but I didn’t want to upset her. She took one of my walkie-talkies with her in case she needed me.

  I held the walkie up to my mouth and depressed the button on the side. “Mercy. Come in Mercy.”

  Static.

  “Roger that, Jaxon.” She replied.

  “I want to take you somewhere today. You feeling up to it?”

  More static.

  “Depends.”

  I pressed the button. “On?”

  “Your intentions.”

  I chuckled. “Oh, baby. I have only the naughtiest intentions in mind.”

  “Count me in.”

  “Get ready. We leave in thirty.”

  “Over and out.”

  I laughed. “Over and out.”

  Thirty minutes later, I walked out my front door and down my stairs. Mercy stepped out of her own in a tiny black sundress and oh, my Lord, did she look amazing.

  “Hey!”

  She lo
oked like she was feeling better. The medicine was helping. Not one hundred percent, but my Mercy was at least eighty percent now.

  “Hey. Ready?”

  “Sure! Where are we going?”

  I just grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Tourist trap?”

  “You betcha, baby.”

  She laughed and slid into the passenger seat. I closed the door behind her and jogged around the front of the car to my side. I drove down the strip to Twenty-Ninth Street and turned onto it, following it all the way to Broadway at the Beach. Mercy grinned.

  Parking, I held her door opened and helped her step out of it. We walked hand-in-hand to the sound of waterfalls and Pachelbel’s “Canon in D.” When I stepped up to buy our tickets, I could see she was excited. She’d talked about seeing the sharks since Donovan went back home. We posed by the first tank to have our pictures taken together and took our ticket. I’d have to buy that bad boy later.

  Weaving in and out of the aquarium exhibits was fun. There were poison frogs in crazy-bright colors, alligators, sting-rays, an octopus, seahorses, and jellyfish: you name it, Ripley’s Aquarium had it. Mercy opened the schedule. “Oh! A mermaid show! It starts in like ten minutes, can we go?”

  I kissed the soft skin of her head. “Of course, baby. Let’s go.”

  We took a quick look at the map and headed toward Ray Bay. While she watched the girls dressed up like mermaids, I watched Mercy. She reminded me of a little girl. Her eyes lit up with wonder. Had her parents ever taken her anywhere fun when she was small? The look on her face told me they hadn’t. They probably couldn’t have afforded it, and it damn near broke my heart.

  Best day ever. Oh, my goodness! They were just girls. I knew that, but they were so graceful and their mermaid outfits were so pretty. I was mesmerized. When the show was over, we lingered while the crowd filtered out and then continued to take in the exhibits at our own pace, or mine, I guess.

  I was slow. I was so weak, but the adrenaline from seeing the show had fueled me on. We entered a tunnel made out of acrylic. The floor had a moving walkway and I was thankful. My knees were starting to shake.

 

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