It had been a difficult time, especially with Savannah being so many miles away in Louisiana. She had wanted to leave school immediately to come home to North Carolina to be with her family upon learning the news of her father’s illness, but her mother wouldn’t hear of it. So, her sisters had dropped everything going on in their lives to come to Louisiana to be with her for a few days because she had been so shaken up. Bridgette had just given birth a few weeks prior to her twin boys, Dylan and Ryan, but packed them up and made the fourteen-hour drive from Charlotte, stopping in Atlanta to pick up Ivy, who’d been living there since graduating from Clark Atlanta University two years earlier. They’d all spent that weekend together at a hotel, comforting each other. And Savannah had gotten to bond with the babies, which she couldn’t get enough of. It was one of the most memorable times with her sisters, and by the time they’d left to head back home, they’d convinced her that everything was going to be okay and that they would all get through it together. And Savannah had found comfort in their reassurances. Although she still worried about her father, she managed to finish out the semester and graduate with honors, even though her father had been too sick to attend her graduation ceremony. He died a month later.
As she watched some of her neighbors enjoying the spring evening, out on their boats, she longed for her sisters’ comforting words. Tears pooled her eyes as she pondered their reaction to her dreaded news. They would all be together at Savannah’s house tomorrow since it was Easter weekend and they’d made a tradition of having an Easter egg hunt for her eight-year-old nephews on that Saturday, and then dinner on Sunday. She’d been looking forward to spending time with them because it had been awhile, but now that she had the weight of her recent diagnosis hovering over her, she really wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, not even her sisters.
Savannah was thankful that tomorrow, her usual workday, was a holiday—Good Friday. That was ironic since there was nothing good about her life right now because she couldn’t imagine having to go into work. She needed an extra day off to grapple with everything that had been thrown at her that day.
“You all right, sweetheart?” Julius asked, snapping her out of her thoughts and surprising her. She hadn’t heard him come out onto the deck. “I just wanted to let you know dinner was ready.”
“I’m fine,” Savannah replied, wiping her tears.
He came and sat down next to her, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on the back of it. “I love you, baby and I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’m going to be here. I know this wasn’t what we expected, but we’ll deal with it. We’re a team.”
He pulled Savannah close to him and she rested her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. More tears flowed from her eyes because she always felt so safe in her husband’s arms, and that was what she needed the most at that moment. She had no idea what the future was going to hold for her or her loved ones. She did know that once she told her family and friends that she had cervical cancer, none of their lives would be the same.
Chapter Three
S
avannah and her sisters were gathered together in her kitchen that following Friday evening, preparing to dye eggs and bake desserts for Sunday’s Easter dinner. Bridgette, the oldest, took on the baking since she did it for a living, and was the best cook out of the three of them. She was the owner of a successful bakery in Uptown Charlotte she’d named Sugar Rush. Savannah and Ivy, the middle sister were going to dye the eggs for Saturday’s Easter egg hunt.
It had been hard for Savannah to put everything that she was dealing with out of her mind, but having her sisters around gave her some comfort as she expected. She’d decided to wait until after the holiday to tell them about her diagnosis. She didn’t want to dampen the festive mood that the holidays always put them in when they were all together.
“Savannah. You’re going to burn these eggs,” Bridgette scolded, gripping the stockpot full of boiled eggs off the burner with potholders. “The water has almost boiled completely down.”
Bridgette turned to face Savannah, who was prepping the dye to color the eggs. She and Ivy were sitting at the large, granite island they’d made their workspace, which they’d lined with newspaper. Small Styrofoam bowls filled with different colors of dye sat in front them. Ivy was sipping on her usual glass of red wine and humming along to R&B music that filled the large room as they worked. The sisters loved to listen to music while they cooked, something they’d grown up doing with their mother.
“Sorry,” Savannah muttered.
Bridgette crossed her arms and peered at her baby sister from her place at the stove.
“Savannah? What’s going on with you? You’ve barely uttered two words since we’ve been here.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it, Bridge, she has been a little quiet. She’s probably tired from all of that bumping and grinding she’s been doing with her new hubby,” Ivy chimed in.
Savannah couldn’t help but to chuckle at her sister’s comment. Ivy always made her laugh even when she wasn’t in the mood. It was good to have her home, if only for a few days. She split her time between Charlotte and Atlanta, but she hadn’t been home since Christmas because of her demanding work schedule as a celebrity make-up artist, which took her all over the world.
“Maybe you’re finally pregnant,” Ivy said, finishing off her glass of merlot and picking up the wine bottle placed strategically next to her to replenish it.
Savannah felt like she’d punched her in the gut with those four words. She fought to hold back her tears, silently praying they wouldn’t burst through to the surface because she wasn’t ready to have this conversation with her sisters.
“No. That’s not it. Her mood would be different,” Bridgette countered, studying her baby sister as she wiped her hands with a dish towel.
“I’m fine,” Savannah said, standing to her feet. “Just a little tired. It’s been a long week.” She needed to move around because she felt like a sitting target as Bridgette honed in on her. Bridgette would continue to badger her like she was one of those interviewers giving lie detector tests. It was in her nature as the eldest to be perceptive when it came to them. Even though they were all adults, she still felt the need to look after them, something she’d been doing since they were children and even more so after their parents died.
Savannah walked over to the refrigerator, pulled open the stainless steel double doors and retrieved a bottle of Perrier along with a small container of lemon slices. She got a glass from one of the overhead cabinets and filled it with sparkling water before dropping a few lemon slices into it and taking a long swig. Even though her back was to her sisters, she could feel Bridgette’s eyes boring into her.
“Heyyy! That’s my jam,” Ivy declared, snapping her fingers and swaying her head to the melody of “Who Knows” by Musiq Soulchild. “This is the kind of music that you don’t hear anymore.”
“I have to agree with you on that, sis,” said Bridgette. “Everything is B-this and Hoe-that. I miss the days when I could turn on the radio and not have to worry about what my children might hear.”
Savannah was thankful for Ivy’s outburst because it took Bridgette’s focus off of her and back to baking. She was icing a German chocolate cake, which was one of their favorites because it was from one of their mother’s many delicious recipes. It was also a specialty, a favorite at Bridgette’s bakery, and always the first item on the menu to sell out.
As her sisters discussed their displeasure with the music industry, Savannah walked to the stove and picked up the large pot to drain the remaining water. A second later, she yelped out in pain, sending the pot and eggs crashing to the hardwood floor.
“Savannah, are you okay?” Bridgette asked, rushing to her sister’s aide.
Savannah shook her hands from side to side in an attempt to relieve the burning sensation pulsating through her fingertips.
“Did you burn yourself? Let me see. You knew t
he pot was hot. I’d just taken it off the burner,” Bridgette fussed.
Savannah waved her sister off. “I’m fine,” she whined.
“Then why are you crying?” Bridgette asked.
Her sister’s question sent a rush of more tears that she couldn’t hold back. Bridgette grabbed Savannah into a tight embrace as she sobbed.
“Savannah, what’s wrong, honey? And don’t keep telling us you’re fine because you’re not,” said Bridgette. “You can’t lie to your sisters. We know you too well.”
“Talk to us, Savannah. What is it that has you so upset? Are you and Julius having problems already?” Ivy asked, as she began cleaning up the spill. She tossed eggs that had been cracked from the fall into a nearby trashcan and grabbed the same potholders Bridgette had used earlier off the counter to pick the pot up off the floor.
The mention of her husband’s name caused Savannah to cry harder because she felt guilty about everything he would have to go through.
“Come on. Let’s go sit down,” said Bridgette, ushering her sister back to the island and helping her back onto the barstool chair she’d been sitting on. “Ivy, hand me a paper towel, please.”
Ivy did what she was asked and then joined her sisters back at the island. Bridgette handed Savannah the paper towel to wipe her face. She accepted it, but didn’t use it as her tears kept falling. Ivy rubbed her back.
“It’s okay, sis. We’re here to support you in whatever is going on. Now, what is it?” Ivy queried, taking her seat next to Savannah. Bridgette stood at the end of the island next to her with her hand rested on her forearm. Savannah inhaled and then exhaled slowly.
“I found out yesterday that I have cervical cancer,” Savannah uttered, and it felt like her words had caused her sisters to stop breathing. Except for the music playing in the background, there was a deafening silence. Savannah wasn’t even sure they’d heard her until she looked from one to the other and saw the grim look on their faces. Bridgette’s hand had left Savannah’s arm and was now pressed to her own chest as if she was getting ready to have a heart attack.
“Are you sure?” Ivy managed to say, her voice cracking.
Savannah nodded.
“I’m so sorry, baby sis,” Bridgette finally said, placing her hand back on Savannah’s arm. Her eyes were full of tears.
Savannah dropped her head as more tears seeped from her own eyes.
“Everything is going to be all right, Savannah. We have to trust in our Lord and Savior that everything will be,” said Bridgette, wiping her tears.
They’d all been through this before with their father when he was diagnosed with lung cancer, but never imagined they’d be dealing with it with one of them. Savannah was so young and had so much life to live.
“What did the doctors say?” Ivy asked, fighting back her own tears.
“I had an abnormal Pap smear a few weeks ago. I went in to have a colposcopy and then a cone biopsy and the results revealed that I have Stage Two cervical cancer.”
Bridgette gasped, causing tears to spill from Ivy’s eyes, but Savannah continued. “I see an oncologist in a few weeks, but more than likely, I’ll have to undergo a hysterectomy, which means my hopes of giving my husband a child are null and void,” said Savannah, as a new wave of tears sprang to her eyes.
“Let’s try not to get ahead of ourselves until we know a little bit more about this,” said Bridgette. “God always has the last say.”
“Wait a minute. Isn’t cervical cancer caused by a sexually transmitted disease?” asked Ivy, her face scrunched up like there was a stench wafting in the air. “H-P something.”
“HPV,” Savannah muttered. She’d had the same reaction when Dr. Pennington mentioned that the virus was contracted through sexual contact, but she assured Savannah that HPV was nothing nasty or dirty or anything that she should feel ashamed about. It was as common as a cold, and more than 80 percent of women contracted it during their lifetime without ever knowing it. For most women, it went away on its own. But for some, as in Savannah’s case, if it remained undetected it could develop into cervical cancer. She’d been lax in getting her annual pelvic exams, and now it was going to cost her. Big time.
“Did Julius give you this?” Ivy demanded. Her voice now angry and her eyes narrowed.
“Ivy, would you stop it? This isn’t the time,” Bridgette admonished, glaring at Ivy who in return rolled her eyes.
“It’s okay, Bridgette,” Savannah said, wiping her face with the paper towel Bridgette had given her. She explained what Dr. Pennington had relayed to her about HPV.
“So, I have no way of knowing if I got it from Julius or not. There’s no HPV test for men, and we’ve both had other sexual partners during our lifetime, so I’ll never know, but honestly, I couldn’t care less about how I got it. That’s the least of my worries.”
“I know, sis. I’m sorry. I hate that this is happening to you. You don’t deserve this,” said Ivy, hugging Savannah.
“No matter the outcome, Savannah. We’re going to help you get through this. We’ve been through our share of ordeals, but we always come out victorious because we’ve always had each other to lean on. And this won’t be any different,” said Bridgette, patting Savannah’s hand. Savannah managed to give her sister a weak smile.
“I’ll try my best to be here as much as I can, but you know I’m always just a phone call away,” Ivy added.
“I appreciate the both of you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you two. I love you, sissies,” Savannah said, referring to the childhood name they still called each other.
“We love you, too,” Bridgette and Ivy said in unison.
“And please, promise me that you’ll get your annual pelvic exams. I know we’re all busy, but it’s so important. I don’t want you to end up like me. I hadn’t had one in two years,” Savannah said.
“I have been since I’ve always had irregular periods,” said Ivy.
“I’ve been getting mine, too,” Bridgette said. “As a matter of fact, I have an appointment coming up with Dr. Pennington next week.”
“Well, it makes me feel better hearing that you both have. I should’ve been doing the same. But, I can’t focus on that now,” Savannah mused.
“Savannah, everything will be okay. I really believe that,” Bridgette said, hugging her. Then Ivy wrapped her arms around them both.
As the three sisters formed a group hug, Savannah fought back more tears. She was drained from crying, but now her mind was on her mortality. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of leaving her sisters behind because they’d always been a trio, but it could happen. People died from cancer every day, their father had. She couldn’t help thinking about this possibly being her plight as well. She didn’t want to die. There was so much she wanted to do.
Chapter Four
“I
see you still haven’t learned to practice any tact,” Bridgette said, keeping her eyes on the road ahead of her as she steered her Suburban down the freeway.
“I beg your pardon?” Ivy asked, her tone incredulous as she peered at her sister from the passenger seat. She’d been staring out the window, her thoughts on Savannah. Both of them had been silent up until this point. Ivy was certain Bridgette had been deep in her own thoughts about their sister’s devastating revelation, so she was caught off guard by her sudden outburst.
“You don’t see anything wrong with how you came at Savannah? She’s received probably the worst news a woman can get and all you could think to ask her was how she got it? Really, Ivy?” Bridgette chided, her voice just as incredulous. “You never cease to amaze me with what manages to come out of your mouth.” Bridgette shook her head.
“Did you miss the part where I apologized? Don’t start with me, Bridgette. I’m not here for it,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes and focusing them back on the tall buildings that made up the Charlotte skyline, hovering above them outside the window.
“It’s not enough for you to keep apologizing afte
r you say things, Ivy. Once they come out of your mouth, the sting of your words still linger. Remember that the next time you decide to run your mouth,” Bridgette said.
Ivy glared at her sister.
“Do you really think my intent was to hurt Savannah? She’s my sister too, in case you forgot, and I love her just as much as you do. It was a valid question whether you felt it was or not, and once she explained it, I had a better understanding. So, get off my case and off your throne, Queen Bee. It’s annoying.” Ivy returned her attention back outside the window. She hated when Bridgette was condescending. That was her biggest pet peeve with her older sister other than her nosiness.
“You know what, Ivy? It must be really nice in the world you live in where you can do whatever you want, when you want and not have to worry about much of anything else besides what new pair of Christian Louboutins to buy or whatever designer handbag is in this season,” Bridgette retorted.
“What’s your point?” Ivy challenged, facing Bridgette again.
“Well, you’ve always been pretty vocal about never wanting to be married or have any children. You’ve also plunged yourself into a career that would make it virtually impossible anyway, so it makes you insensitive to anyone that desires either. But, I would expect you to be more considerate when that person is your own sister,” Bridgette said. “It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little sensitivity sometimes.”
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