The Anderson Brothers Complete Series

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The Anderson Brothers Complete Series Page 43

by Kristin Coley


  Beck let my dad answer. “They removed the mass and your tube. The biopsy indicated it was cancerous. They need to run more tests to know what kind, but they’re confident they removed all of the tumorous mass.”

  I nodded shakily, tears slipping down my cheeks.

  Beck took my hand. “You still have the other tube, and the doctor said that you can still have kids.” Relief rushed through me with his words. I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to have my own babies, until there was a chance I couldn’t.

  They released me from the hospital that afternoon, and I recuperated at home for a few days, waiting on the final biopsy results.

  When they called, I didn’t expect what they found.

  “The results indicate an aggressive form of ovarian cancer. We’d like to do three rounds of chemotherapy. We’re confident we removed all of it, but with this type of cancer, we like to make sure.”

  I didn’t remember hanging up the phone, or finding Beck, but I must have, because he was holding me, as I sobbed the words out to him. My dad found us, and I was squished between the two of them, as we cried.

  The next day I got up and dressed carefully. I applied my makeup and my favorite romper. I dusted off my first pair of Louis Vuitton’s. The ones that had inspired my love of shoes. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. They looked surprised at first, and then my dad started to smile.

  “There’s my girl,” he said, wrapping me into a warm embrace. “I love you,” he whispered to me. I nodded, my throat tight, but I refused to cry, no more tears. I would fight. This wasn’t the end of me. The chemo was nothing more than a preventive measure. They had caught the cancer in time. Whether or not I would be able to have babies after the chemo was yet to be known, but I wouldn’t wallow.

  I looked at Beck. His lion’s mane hung in his eyes from the fingers he had thrust through it. I could see the exhaustion on his face. This had taken a toll on him, as well. I took a deep breath before I told him the decision I had come to overnight. I would give him another chance to walk away. We had been through a lot, and it was only going to get harder.

  “I wanted to….” I started, as he shook his head and pulled a ring box out of his pocket.

  “Long haul, Livie,” he said, smiling at my surprise. He opened the box and pulled the ring out. “I asked your father for permission this morning. I figured I should do it right.”

  He walked around the table, and I noticed what I had missed when I walked in. He was wearing our Armani suit; the one I had given him that first day. It was a little snugger now, but he still made it look good. He got down on bended knee before me.

  “Olivia Gregory Martin, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked me, with his devastatingly gorgeous smile.

  I nodded, unable to get the yes out, past the frog in my throat. I nodded harder, tears starting to slip out, even though I had been determined not to cry today. I could be forgiven though. A girl was allowed to cry at her own marriage proposal.

  He slid the ring on my finger, and I curled my fingers around his. He leaned his head forward, resting it directly over my womb.

  “I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I will love you for all of our tomorrows.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Telling Hannah was almost as difficult as telling my father. She cried, I cried and then Sophie joined us and cried. Martha brought us cake and cried too.

  I started chemo treatment the day Hannah brought baby Gregory into the world. I was hooked to an IV for seven hours and missed the entire thing. A fact that I was secretly grateful for. I had no desire to see a baby born, unless it was mine. I did demand they send me a video of my namesake though. Grace Olivia Anderson showed me the video of her new little brother.

  “He was all scrunched up and red. Mommy said it was normal.” She gave me a disbelieving look at that information.

  “Your mom should know,” I replied. “She had you.” I heard a commotion in the hallway and asked her, “Your Uncle Colt brought you?” She nodded, rolling her eyes. She was used to the fans that tended to surround her uncle wherever he went. Sophie slipped into the room catching sight of us immediately. She waved and came over.

  “Hey! How’s it going?” she asked, leaning over to hug me.

  “Good.” I indicate the IV in my arm. “Not going too far, until they unhook me. Grace was showing me the new baby.”

  “He’s adorable,” Sophie said, with baby lust in her eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh at her expression. Grace tugged on my arm to get my attention.

  “Aunt Livie, why does Mommy call Gregory your namesake? I thought I was your namesake. ‘Cause my middle name is Olivia,” she asked me.

  “Well, my full name is Olivia Gregory. And when your momma was first pregnant with you, she said she would name you after me. And she did. She gave you my name as your middle name. And when she found out she was having your brother, she decided to name him Gregory after my middle name,” I answered her, smiling, as I remembered back to that day seven years earlier. Hannah had come into my life not long after Beck had left it. She had become my best friend during her first tumultuous pregnancy.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the wedding,” Sophie started, and I held up a hand.

  “We are not postponing it,” I informed her.

  “But.”

  “Nope.”

  Colt and Beck made it through the door at that moment, and I hugged Grace to me.

  Colt looked at me and then Sophie. “Ha, she wouldn’t listen, huh?”

  Sophie frowned, looking a bit teary eyed. I gave a gusty sigh.

  “I appreciate the thought, Sophie, but there is no way of changing things at this late date. It’s less than three months till your wedding.”

  “That doesn’t matter to us. I just want you there. But I also want you focused on getting better,” she added, looking at Colt. He nodded his agreement.

  “I will be there. I might be bald, but I will be there.” Sophie looked frightened, the reality of chemo was never pleasant, but it had to be dealt with. “Chemo won’t last forever. In fact, the last treatment ends the week before your wedding. This will give me something to look forward to.” I added, the last dollop of guilt to the towering mass that had been her wedding from start to finish. Sophie was wary of marriage, and I knew Colt wanted the big wedding, to show the world that he and Sophie belonged together. It had taken him two years to convince her to marry him. The wedding had been an entirely different battle I had fought for him. In so many ways, it felt like the end of one era and the beginning of another. We had all come so far to get to this moment.

  “Of course,” she replied. “The wedding shall go on as planned.” Her smile looked a little shaky, but she held it. Beck only shook his head at me, and Colt winked.

  “I can’t wait to wear my pretty dress.” Grace sighed, and it was Colt’s turn to shake his head. We all laughed. There was no denying Grace was my namesake. I had made sure her closet had as many clothes as my own.

  A few days after my second chemo treatment, my hair started to fall out. I woke up one morning to clumps lying on the pillow. I knew it would come, but something about hair is integral to self-image. My father wanted me to buy wigs, but I refused. I would not hide this fact of me. It was part of the process I needed to go through to get well.

  I collected the strands of hair and threw them in the toilet, before proceeding to cut my hair as close to my head as possible. I looked up to see Beck standing in the door.

  I gave him the razor and sat on the toilet. I watched him take a deep breath in the mirror, before he flicked it on and took the rest of my hair off.

  “I swear to God that if you shave your head, Beck, I will cut you,” I threatened, when he finished.

  “I want to,” he protested and I shook my head, the lightness of my head disorienting.

  “No. You have gorgeous hair, and someone in this family should have hair,” I told him. My dad had shown up at our house two days befor
e, bald as a billiard ball. We had all known this day was coming, and my dad wanted to make sure I didn’t have to go through it first. The tragic thing was he looked as good bald as he did with hair. Instead of calling him a Norse god, women thought he looked like a sexy pirate. Beck had laughed and laughed when he heard it the first time.

  I turned to look in the mirror, and all I could see were my eyes. They looked huge. I gingerly reached up to touch my skull. I rubbed my hands over it, enjoying the sensation. It was so smooth and silky. I laughed and pulled Beck’s hand up to feel it.

  “Nice,” he said, tugging me toward him for a kiss. “Woman, you make a bald head sexy.”

  “Why, thank you,” I murmured against his lips. We heard a knock on the bedroom door and then, “Are you decent? I don’t want to see anything inappropriate.” He pushed the door open a few seconds later and spotted us standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

  He blinked hard before he said, “You look beautiful.”

  “Of course,” I told him smiling. “I am my father’s daughter.” I turned my head and tilted it. “Do I look like a sexy pirate queen?”

  This elicited a laugh from both of them.

  Later that week, I meet up with Sophie and Hannah. We went over the last of the wedding details, as we cooed over baby Gregory.

  I let out a sigh and looked at Sophie. “I’ve decided I can’t be in your wedding,” I told her. She looked shocked and frightened.

  “Why? Do you have to be in the hospital? Don’t think I won’t cancel this wedding right now if you can’t be there, because I will,” she declared mutinously and I smiled, proud of her. Hannah watched us, worried.

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” I waved my hand. “I don’t want to ruin your pictures.” Sophie’s mouth dropped open and she laughed, shaking her head.

  “Are you kidding me? If you’re not in my wedding and in those pictures, I’ll shave my head and Colt’s and anybody else I can convince.” she shook her finger at me. “You’re walking down that aisle as my bridesmaid. Colt has already asked Beck to be a groomsman. We kicked one of his football buddies out. He understood,” she added casually, polishing her fingernails on her jeans.

  My shocked expression caused Hannah to start laughing, and then we were all laughing. And in that moment, everything was okay.

  The day of her wedding dawned clear and cool. We had managed to squeeze their wedding in right before football season was set to start, and the weather actually cooperated. We took all the pictures in the morning, while the light was good. Sophie wanted her wedding at dusk, a special time of the day for her. I agreed, and we decided all the pictures needed to be out of the way, so the wedding reception could be enjoyed. My bald head gleamed as we posed, and when we took pictures with the groomsman, Beck pretended to spit and polish my head. The photographer almost couldn’t take the pictures for laughing so hard. We made sure to get one with just me, Sophie and Hannah. Our friendship was an integral part of my life, and I couldn’t imagine it without them.

  When it was my turn to pose with Beck, he asked me, “So are you ready to plan our big wedding?”

  “Oh, we’re eloping,” I responded, shaking my head. “Planning one of these is enough.” I shuddered at the thought of planning my own. “Justice of the peace maybe. Eloping seems like too much work.” He laughed at my decision, but I wasn’t joking.

  I dabbed tears from my eyes, as I watched them exchange vows. I wasn’t the only one, as I looked around seeing Hannah, Martha, and Colt’s mom, Dani all doing the same. There was something special about watching two people you knew who loved each other vow before God to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives.

  I danced with all the men in my life that night. Ford first, because well, he was Ford. Then Colt with his mischievous grin. My dad danced with me next, our bald heads matching. “I really hope someone gets a picture of the two of us,” I told him with a laugh.

  “It’s not every day pirates crash a wedding,” he joked back, before Beck stole me away from him.

  He spun me around, as the fireworks started to go off. Everyone went to the grounds to watch them, as we swayed alone on the dance floor.

  “Did you plan that?” I asked, suspiciously.

  “Oh, no. I just happened to be engaged to the wedding planner and she let things slip,” he answered. I smiled and leaned into him. If you had told me a year ago I would be here with him, I would have laughed. But I couldn’t imagine a moment more perfect than this one.

  The End

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