by Hope Navarre
She needed a hug something fierce. She suspected that Doc needed one, too. Delivering shitty news like this, especially to a family friend with a history of cancer, couldn’t be easy for him. She stepped into the circle of his arms and hugged him hard, pressing her cheek to his chest. His warm, strong hug did more to reassure her than any words. What would she do without her network of friends to support her?
She released a sigh. “So we do battle.”
He held her at arm’s length. “And we’ll win.”
She managed a smile. “I don’t see any other choice.”
* * *
PETER MANAGED TO hover near Doc’s office, waiting for Cassie to appear. Twenty minutes had passed. They could just be shooting the breeze, but if her pathology was negative, she could have been finished in five minutes.
When she stepped out, her face said it all. She’d been crying. Peter was already in motion when Doc followed her out the door. Schooling every single nerve in his body to stay as calm as possible, he said, “So, do we have a verdict?”
He held Cassie’s gaze at her silent, stricken look. “What kind is it?”
“Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
He looked at Doc. “Now we find out where?”
“I have a CT scan set for four o’clock.”
“That’s great, Doc. Thanks. I get off at four. I’m going with you, Cassie.”
Before Cassie could object, Doc said, “That’s a great idea.”
Peter folded her against his chest. “Breathe, Cassie. It’ll help the stress filling your chest.”
“I can’t get air into my lungs.”
He wrapped her tighter in his arms. Cassie leaned into him, all tensed and trembling, as if she’d burrow into his chest if she could. He sensed her fear right down his backbone. She might look confident in her tailored white blouse, hot jeans and heels, but those bloodshot blue eyes betrayed she’d been shaken pretty badly. His chest tightened. He wanted to make this moment go away. “I believe they call that panic, my sweet. It’s okay.”
Doc nodded. “Alarm is a natural reaction.”
Peter kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way, Cass. With Doc at the helm, it’ll be smooth sailing.”
“She knows that,” Doc said. “It’s difficult for a health-care person like Cassie to receive news like this because she understands what’s in store.”
Cassie swiped another tear. “Not to mention watching my mother go through chemotherapy. I’m just grateful that this type of cancer is treatable.”
Doc laid a hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “And treat it, we shall. Until it’s gone.”
Peter said, “So, what now? Are you going home?”
“No. I want to work. I’m here until four, anyway.”
Doc laid a hand on her arm. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better when we find out exactly what I’m dealing with here.”
“Okay. See you upstairs at four.”
* * *
AT FOUR, PETER found Cassie holding a woman’s newborn for her in the waiting room while the mother spoke with Carmen at registration about her toddler’s broken finger. She was crying because, while rushing, she had closed the car door on the boy’s hand before checking to make sure he was clear of it.
Cassie spotted Peter and brought the sleeping infant over. “Isn’t she darling?”
Peter imagined Cassie carrying his baby in her arms. He swallowed hard at the thought. It had happened. He’d fallen in love.
“Honey, we’re late for upstairs.”
She glanced at the wall clock. “Uh-oh.”
He waited while she returned the baby to the stroller, carefully tucking the blanket around her so she wouldn’t awaken. He held out his hand.
“Come on, Miss Chicken. Quit stalling.”
“I’m scared, Peter.”
He kissed her hard on the mouth. “That’s why you have me. I’ll punch out any monster who gets in your path.”
Laughter lit her eyes, thank goodness. “Okay. You go first.”
He took her hand. “No, baby. We’ll go together.”
* * *
AT SIX-THIRTY, the three of them sat in Doc’s office with the oncologist, Cassie’s CT scans spread on the coffee table between them. Cassie had been holding Peter’s hand but released it to pick up the images.
“I don’t like having a mass so close to my heart, Doc. What are we going to do?”
Peter laid a hand on her lower back. He had to touch her. Let her know she was connected to him and not alone. If he was having trouble breathing, he could just imagine the terror she felt.
The oncologist spoke. “Your cancer is stage two. We’ll treat the lymphomas with chemotherapy. I don’t think radiation is necessary at this point.”
Peter asked, “How many treatments?”
He compressed his lips. “Every other week for six months.”
Peter met Doc’s gaze from across the table. The proscribed treatment had every chance of success, but like all powerful antidotes, no one knew how the patient would react to the harsh chemicals, considering dosage was always a fine line. Cassie was in for some major discomfort.
The oncologist cleared his throat. “There is something you have to consider, Cassie.”
She sat straighter, her beautiful blond hair cascading down her shoulders. Peter wanted to bury his hands beneath the soft curls to massage her neck and release the tension tightening her mouth and eyes. She seemed to be choking on her simple answer. “Yes?”
He spoke without a thread of emotion in his voice. “The chemotherapy can cause sterilization. You may not be able to have children after the treatments.”
She fell back against the couch, hand to throat. “I suspected as much.” She shook her head as if talking to herself. “No babies?”
“If you are willing to delay therapy, we can harvest some of your eggs. Chances are good that in vitro fertilization will work later on.”
Cassie’s face grew pale. She pushed her hair away from her face. “And delaying treatment?”
The doctor shrugged. “Your call.”
“I don’t like having this cancer inside me.”
“Think about it. We can make the decision in a few days.”
She was fighting tears. Peter reached for her trembling hand and pressed it between his palms. God, her skin was so cold.
Cassie gripped his hand, her gaze shooting from Doc to the oncologist. “If we’re done, I want to go home. I’ve heard all I can handle for today.”
The oncologist closed her file. “We’re finished. Let me know your decision. More X-rays and blood work are needed over the next few days. We’ll start the regimen as soon as you are ready.” He smiled, and his concern reached his eyes. “Cassie, this process is going to be rough, but you have every chance of clearing this disease from your body.”
She stood. “Thank you. I’ll keep your advice in mind.”
* * *
PETER PARKED IN the street so he wouldn’t block any of the cars in the Michaels’ driveway. Wordlessly, he walked Cassie to her cottage, her hand in his, but he was pretty sure she was unaware. Her thoughts seemed light-years away. They hadn’t spoken on the drive home. Although a million sentiments ran through his mind—words of reassurance, love, promise—they all stuck in his throat at the overwhelmed expression on Cassie’s face. So Peter offered her what she seemed to need most: silence.
The light was on in Beth and Bobby’s kitchen. No one was visible through the window. Peter gestured to the house. “Want to tell them?”
She pulled him toward her cottage. “Not yet. I’d like a glass of wine. I have to think.”
Once inside, Cassie headed for the bathroom. Peter busied himself searching her cabinets for a wineglas
s. Opening a sauvignon blanc he found chilling in the refrigerator, he poured the wine and snagged a beer from the refrigerator door for himself.
Cassie probably wasn’t hungry from the stress of her meeting, but she needed to eat something. She’d fasted all day for the CT scan. He found a block of cheddar in the cheese drawer. When she returned to the kitchen, he was slicing an apple, had arranged crackers on a plate around the cheese.
He handed her the glass of wine. “Let’s sit in the living room and talk this through.”
“Thanks.” Once settled on the couch, she waved away the cheese and cracker he offered her.
“You have to eat something.”
“I can’t.”
She’d been dodging his gaze ever since leaving the hospital. He didn’t like it. If she thought for a minute that she could shut him out, she had another think coming.
“Cassie, look at me.”
The shame in her eyes floored him. “Whoa. This is devastating you.”
“I’m not doing well, Peter. I’m embarrassed you heard all that crap.”
He turned to face her. “Getting sick is not your fault. It’s going to be okay.”
She shook her head. “No. No. It will be far from okay.”
“I don’t understand. What’s the worst-case scenario?”
Tears filled her eyes. “No babies. I don’t want to wait for treatment. The lymphomas grew too fast already. I’m not going to harvest my eggs.”
He almost wanted to laugh in relief. Thank God she wasn’t worried about dying. It was a hard road back when one surrendered to despair. “Honey, is that all?”
Anger quickly replaced the shame in her eyes. “Don’t tease. What man will want to marry me knowing I can’t give him children?”
“Wait. Does that mean you will marry me?”
She placed her glass on the table. “This is not a joke, Peter. I’m serious.”
He turned her face to meet his. “So am I. There are hundreds of kids out there, Cassie. Newborns, toddlers, teens. Just wishing they had a mom and dad of their own. I would never walk away from you over something as inconsequential as infertility.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, if only to get some color back into her soft, pale, kissable mouth. Luckily, she kissed back. Hesitantly, but at least she showed some feeling.
He whispered, “Easy answer, Cassie. Adoption.”
She turned away. “You say that now, but if we’re together in two years? I see you with kids. You’d make a great father.”
“Cassie. Genetics doesn’t make a great dad. It’s the love in your heart.”
She shook her head, unable to look at him again. “I feel so numb.”
“That’s okay. You’ve been asked to consider a lot in a few short hours.”
“I’m no good for you, Peter. I’m going to call it quits between us.”
He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
Cassie slapped the couch. “Oh, come on! I’m sick. My hair is going to fall out and I’ll be puking for the next six to eight months. I could die. You never know. I’m thinking it’s better I become sterile so I won’t pass this goddamn cancer gene to my daughter. You are wasting your time with me, Peter. I truly want you to go.”
Did she really think that little of him...or herself? “If you think I’m leaving you over cancer, you’re so wrong it’s funny. I’m not letting you fight this alone.”
“You’re a fool.”
He gently tugged on her arm, inviting her into his lap. She resisted. He unceremoniously scooped her up, cradled her in his arms and held tight.
She met his gaze, self-reproach and pain pooling in her eyes. “Go away, Peter.”
He shook his head. “No, Cassie. I can’t. I know our relationship is new, but the truth of this whole mess? I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about you. Believe me, I’ve had my share of girlfriends. I could search the world and never find a woman half as amazing as you are. You are beautiful, strong, sensuous and damn it, you make love to me like nothing I’ve ever known. I don’t give a rat’s ass that you have to battle cancer. You’re going to beat this disease and I’m going to be with you every step of the way. Don’t think for one single second that you can send me away. I. Won’t. Go.”
“I have a say, you know.”
His ire raised, he lifted his brows. He gave her the sternest look he could muster. “Actually, on this matter, you don’t. So, give it up. Right now. This conversation is over.”
“You’re a bully.”
“And you’re feeling too sorry for yourself to see how much you need me. Admit it or not, you really want me to stay.”
After what seemed like a forever stare down, Cassie seemed to run out of steam. A small smile creased her lips, and he felt as if the sun just rose.
She tapped his lower lip. “Thank you.”
“For what? Arguing with you?”
She released a sigh. “God, I’m too exhausted to laugh.” She climbed out of his lap. “Let’s go over. I think I can tell them now.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THERE WAS A knock at the door as Cassie’s cell phone rang. She looked at the ID. “It’s Mom.”
Bobby opened the door. “Hey. We’ve been waiting to hear.”
Beth came in behind him holding up her phone. “I was calling to give you warning. We spoke with Doc a few minutes ago.”
Cassie hugged her mom and dad. This was not going to be easy. “Would you like something to drink?”
Her father held her at arm’s length. “Do I need one?”
“Probably.”
Beth pushed passed Bobby. “Are you okay, honey?”
She pulled another beer from the fridge and poured wine for Beth. “It’s bad, but manageable.”
Bobby shook hands with Peter. “Thanks for sitting with her.”
“You are very welcome. I plan to help as much as I can.”
Grateful for Peter’s strength, Cassie led them the short distance back to the couch and chairs. “Come on. I’ll be quick.”
Bobby’s frustration at being kept out of the loop showed in his voice. “Doc said you wanted to tell us the diagnosis. I wish you hadn’t kept us waiting.”
“Dad, I wanted to get my wits about me. This isn’t easy.”
Cassie took a seat on the couch. Peter sat close, laying a warm, reassuring hand on her leg. She didn’t miss Bobby’s glance at Peter’s proprietary placement of his hand.
Guys and testosterone. Well, she’d give Dad time to adjust to this new development. Right now they had other things to discuss.
“Okay, so here’s the drill. I have two stage-two Hodgkin’s lymphomas.” She tapped her chest. “One above my heart. The other above my diaphragm. Looks like I’m in for six months of chemo.”
Bobby looked stricken. “You’ll move back into the house during treatment.”
Cassie shook her head. “No, Dad. I won’t. I’ll be fine here.”
“What if you need something during the night?”
“That’s why we have cell phones.”
Beth frowned. “I agree with your father.”
Peter lifted a hand. “I’m here, too, folks. I plan on helping.”
Cassie leaned forward. “Mom, Dad, I truly was worried about breaking this news to you. We all know Hodgkin’s is manageable. A tough go, but curable. If you coddle me, it’ll frighten me. I need you guys to be strong—so I can be.”
“No one should have to go through treatment alone,” Beth said.
Bobby shook his head, staring at the floor. “Maybe I’ll get it right this time.”
“Hey, you two. It’s not about getting things right. It’s about getting better. There’s something you should know.”
Cassie hated the fear rising in their eyes. T
heir uncertainty, even while they tried suppressing the emotion, was enough to trigger the panic now sitting like a snake poised to strike in the middle of her chest. She was grateful that earlier, Peter had supported her decision without question to start treatment immediately. Trying to explain the sick feeling she carried, knowing a deadly cancer grew inside her body, set off a primal alarm to fight or flee like she’d never known. Truth was, no matter how far she ran, the cancer would be right inside her. So, she’d fight. Both fists in the air and ready to pound.
Peter squeezed her leg with enough pressure to let her know that she was doing fine. Releasing a sigh, she said, “I’ve decided I’m not harvesting eggs. I’m going with the slim-to-none chance for children after chemo.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed their faces in the silence that fell. She didn’t miss the guarded glances both her parents shot toward Peter.
She continued. “I don’t want to wait.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “Kids are the least of your worries, honey. Let’s just get you better.”
Beth reached for Cassie’s hand. “We’ll support you in your decision.”
Cassie waved a hand in a careless gesture she did not feel. “I just want to get this all behind me...no, behind all of us, as soon as possible.” She leaned against Peter, his chest warm and capable of holding her. He put his arm around her, and she grabbed his hand. “I’ll have to cut my hair off.”
Beth gave her a commiserating look. “It’s longer than ten inches. Donate to Locks of Love?”
“Absolutely. No kid dealing with cancer should go without hair.”
Bobby shook his head. “You don’t deserve this, girl.”
Tears filled her eyes. “No one does, Dad. But, hey. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“No one knows that fact better than I do,” Beth whispered.
* * *
PETER’S CELL PHONE buzzed on the ride home. Seeing the caller ID he punched the answer button. “Gil!”
“Hey, bro. Checking up on you. It’s been a few days.”
“Sorry, hectic week.”
“No worries. What’s going on? You married yet?”