Beautiful Tragedy (A Standalone Romance Novel)

by Taylor, Alycia

  “Well, you must like it too, even more than me. I don’t own a copy of it.”

  “Neither do I,” he said with another grin. “This is Jake’s.”

  “Oh, Megan must have left it here,” I said.

  He put it on and sat down next to me and said, “Why do you think it could be mine, but seem like you can’t even consider that it might be Jake’s?”

  I didn’t know how to phrase it without making it sound a little like an insult. Finally I said, “I think you’re more comfortable in your masculinity than Jake is in his.”

  He laughed out loud at that and said, “Like metrosexual or something?”

  “Oh God no!” I told him. “Those guys with nail polish and eyeliner completely freak me out. I just mean you don’t ever seem like you have anything to prove…to anyone.” That must have been the right way to put it, because before the little boy who would grow up to be Christian Slater with a baboon heart passed out on the orphanage playground he had covered my lips with his and completely obstructed my view. I didn’t care though. After two or three minutes I couldn’t have even told you what we were watching, and after five it was doubtful that I remembered my own name. When we came up for air, he looked at me with those intense blue eyes for about thirty seconds, and I could barely remember his name.

  Brock made love to me again that night, and it was even better than the first time. Afterwards, as I was drifting off to sleep, I told myself not to forget to thank Megan and Jake for bringing him into my life.

  I woke up in his arms again the next morning.

  “Good morning,” he said with a sleepy smile when I opened my eyes.

  “Hi,” I said. “How did you sleep?”

  He closed his eyes and smiled.

  “Fantastic,” he said. “How about you?”

  “The same,” I said with a smile.

  “Can we stay here like this all day?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in tight.

  “You have no idea how much I would love to,” I told him, honestly. “I have my final in lab today before the Christmas break. I can’t miss it.”

  “Yes you can,” he said. “You can quit school and be my groupie.”

  I laughed, “That sounds like an ambitious path to take with my life. I don’t know if I can dare to aim that high though…and then there’s Gran…” He opened his eyes wide then and said, “Okay, go take your silly final. I’m going to lie here all day and smell your perfume on my pillow, and wait for you to call.”

  “Mmm,” I said, snuggling back into him. “School is over-rated. Maybe I could pull the band groupie thing off after all.”

  He hugged me again and then he said something that got me up.

  “There is the fact that Jake will probably be coming home soon.”

  I was still not ready to meet Jake at the breakfast table in one of Brock’s shirts. By the time I finished in the bathroom, Brock was dressed and ready to take me home. Sometimes I just can’t believe how amazing he is.

  After I showered and dressed, I went to my class, hoping that I could come down from my cloud a bit, at least long enough to concentrate on my final experiment. We were paired up, and if one partner ruined her part of the experiment, we would both fail. I didn’t want to make my partner, Mai fail. She was a perfectionist, and failure could possibly send her spiraling down into the dark, cold abyss. While we were setting things up for our experiment, Mai said, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you got here. What’s the joke?” I’m tempted to tell her that it’s no joke, but because I just spent the night with the most gorgeous, incredible man on Earth, but instead I said, “I’m just happy to be here.”

  She looked around the beat up old lab letting her eyes rest for a minute on Professor Noland. Let’s just say he looks like Joan Crawford and leave it at that. Then she looked back at me like I was crazy. I smiled at her again. As I set up for our invisible smoke ring lab she stood back a little, just in case I really was a little bit crazy. I didn’t blame her, I was still grinning like an idiot.

  When all was said and done, I had come through for Mai. We got a B on our final. It was no A, but nobody’s perfect. It proved that I was good at multitasking too, because I still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about ice-skating in the moonlight with Brock as he sang to me, or eating a picnic dinner he had packed for me under the stars, or making out, or making love to him, and I still got a B. Go Me!!

  On my way home after class, I had to go by the coffee shop and get my schedule. Now that I was finished training they were going to give me a real schedule. It was a good thing, I really needed the money.

  “Hey Cassie, is my schedule ready?” I asked her as she bustled about. I was surprised that she wasn’t whistling while she worked. She really liked her job.

  “Hi Molly,” She said. “Yeah, I think it’s in the back.” I started back to get it when suddenly there was a blonde, cheerleader type standing in front of me.

  “Excuse me,” I said. “I didn’t see you there.” The girl looked familiar, but I didn’t think much of that. I did think was weird that she was still standing right in my way. She hadn’t moved an inch one way or the other, and she was glaring at me.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” I asked her, finally.

  “Do you know who I am?” she said.

  Barbie? Skipper?

  “No, I’m sorry. Should I?”

  “My name is Tammy. I’m Brock’s ex-girlfriend.”

  The stalker that was it!

  “Oh, hello,” I said. I’m not sure what else I was supposed to say to that. I’ve also never met a stalker. At least I don’t think I have. I’m not sure what stalker/new girlfriend etiquette called for in this situation. I tried to step around her again, and again she stepped in my way. Okay, now I was getting pissed.

  “Will you excuse me? Please!” I said, none too patiently.

  “I just thought maybe you and I should have a talk,” Tammy said.

  “Most people walk up and say, ‘Hey can you and I have a talk?’ They don’t block your path.”

  She seemed to realize suddenly that she had pissed me off. Not that I think she genuinely cared, but she tried to act like she did as she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Can we talk?”

  I looked at the clock. It was four-fifteen. I hadn’t seen Brock in over six hours and I was beginning to have withdrawals.

  “I have five minutes,” I told her. She turned then and walked to a table in the corner, expecting me to follow her. I did, grudgingly.

  “What’s this about? Tammy…is it?” I asked her.

  She smiled. It was supposed to be sweetly but it looked more like the offspring of Barbie and Attila the Hun.

  “Brock is still in love with me. I’m sorry to be blunt, but I hate to see you get hurt.”

  I was speechless. I don’t mean that in the sense of the old saying, I was truly, literally speechless. Nothing would come out.

  “Did you hear me?” she said, finally. Now I smiled. It was my own cross between a cheerleader and a serial killer smile and I found my voice.

  “Oh, yes I heard you,” I said, simply. “Is there anything else?”

  She looked shocked that I wasn’t getting confrontational. She had geared herself up for at least a verbal fight.

  “I think you should just back off. Brock and I were meant to be. He wrote a song for me, you know.”

  “That’s nice,” I said with a tight smile. “I need to go, okay?”

  This chick was not right in the head.

  “Just remember that I warned you. When he comes back to me, and he will, I plan on taking him back. I’m letting him sow his oats with the…waitress-types first.” She really did want to fight. In my head I could picture myself slapping that snotty look right off of her face. Don’t give her the satisfaction, Molly. Make her leave with as much pent up crap as she came in with.

  “And I thank you for that,” I said. This time I said it with a sweet smile. “You take care, Tammy.” I go
t up, went to the back got my schedule, said good-bye to Cassie and she was still watching me as I went out the door. I was expecting to find a boiled bunny on the stove, very, very soon.

  My phone rang as I was walking back to the dorm. It was Brock, and just seeing his name on my caller ID made me smile. I took back everything I said about his parents giving him a funny name. I had been ill-informed. It suited him perfectly.

  “Hey!” I said, picking up the call.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” he said. “How did your lab final go?”

  “I passed,” I told him. “How was your day?”

  “It was good. I worked on another song for you.”

  I thought about what Tammy had said, but then I quickly shook it off. I told myself that I was too smart to let that nonsense Tammy was spewing to get to me.

  “Aw,” I said. “How sweet.”

  “What are you doing for dinner?” he asked me.

  “Well, I don’t know,” I told him. “I can’t eat in the cafeteria because of my special diet. I haven’t talked to Megan yet, but I’m sure her and Jake have plans…I’ll probably just grab a yogurt and eat it alone…with some water…and maybe an old movie.”

  He laughed, “Well I was going to go out, and have dinner with a lot of people, but that sounds pitiful. I tell you what, to keep you from being alone I’d be willing to stay in and cook.”

  “You would turn down “a lot of people” for me?” I said.

  He turned serious as he said, “I’d turn down all of the people for you.” I believed him.

  I told him I would walk over, it was a beautiful afternoon, albeit just a little cold. I went to my dorm first to shower off quickly and change. I wanted to shave my legs…just in case. As the shower warmed up, I sat down to go pee and the roof fell in.

  It was hard, first of all. I felt like I had to go, but it seemed like nothing would come out. I had already drunk five bottles of water since waking up at Brock’s this morning, but I had been so preoccupied I didn’t realize I hadn’t peed one time. I made a mental note to pay more attention. Dr. Harris would be so disappointed. I sat there for a while, finally giving up on it. When I stood up and looked down, what I saw in the little hat wasn’t yellow. It was bright red.

  “Shit!”

  I have to admit, I considered just going to Brock’s and not thinking about it until later. I may have too, but the left side of my lower back started twisting into a spasm at that time, like it was egging me on.

  “Bastard kidney!” I said out loud.

  I went out to where I had laid my phone and I called Dr. Harris. He, of course, didn’t answer the phone, his nurse did. I began the first of a hundred times I would have to tell the story over the next few weeks. After I finished talking she said, “Molly, I’m calling him now, but I think you should just get over here, okay? I know he’s going to want to see you.” I sighed I wanted to go have dinner with Brock. He was going to turn down “a lot of people” for me. I could feel the tears welling up. They weren’t because I was sick, or scared, but because I just wanted to see him so bad.

  “You don’t think it can wait until tomorrow?” I asked her. “I’ll drink a lot of water, and come in first thing in the morning…”

  “Molly, hun…you know how serious this is.” She was using that tone that medical people use to guilt you into taking care of yourself. I hated that tone. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw things. Instead, I took another deep breath to steady myself and I said, “Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.” I hung up, wondering what I should tell Brock. He knows about my diagnosis now. Should I tell him the truth? I thought about the last two nights and how beautiful they were, how normal. I finally gave in to the impulse to have a relationship with this wonderful man. I didn’t want the cancer to be a part of that already. Was I delusional, thinking that if I got involved with him, the cancer would never come between us? Maybe a little bit, yes. I know Brock well enough now to firmly believe in my heart that he wasn’t going to run away. But wasn’t that another problem in and of itself? Now who was not being fair? He was an amazing, young guy who was beating cancer. The last thing he needed was to be dragged down by mine. I knew if I called him right now and told him what was going on, he would be at my side in minutes. As warm and wonderful as that made me feel, I couldn’t do that to him. He deserved more. I thought about the Barbie…Tammy. I bet she at least has two kidneys. After all, there was no Transplant Barbie or Dialysis Barbie on the market.

  I picked the phone back up and I called Brock. As soon as he picked up the phone and said, “Hello, Beautiful,” I almost lost it.

  I forced myself to suck it up and I said, “Hey! I have bad news.”

  “What happened?” I could hear the worry in his voice. It tugged at my heart and proved my point that I couldn’t tell him what was going on.

  “Nothing…to me, I mean.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “It’s my grandmother.”

  “Oh, what’s wrong with grandma? Is she okay?”

  “She’ll be fine,” I told him. Wow, he even sounded worried about my grandma. I wish he would just once be a jerk and make this easier. “She just has this thing with her hip, and she’s going to be laid up for a couple of days. I need to go stay with her this weekend to help her out. I’m sorry, Brock. I have to catch the bus tonight so I’ll have to cancel on dinner.”

  “It’s okay, Molly,” he said the words, but sounded so disappointed. “Do you want me to go with you? Or at least drive you? Suzie would be up for a little drive. Grandma told me she only lives about an hour away, right?”

  God, he was so incredibly sweet. Sometimes I couldn’t stand it. “It’s really okay, Brock. I’m going to catch the six o’clock bus. If I leave now I’ll just make it. I’m sorry again, about cancelling.”

  “It’s really okay. I’m just going to miss you,” he said. “Tell Grandma I hope she feels better soon, and call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, really fighting the tears now. “I’ll miss you too. Bye, Brock.”

  “Bye sweetheart,” he said. I hung up feeling crappier than crap. I hate lying, I hate cancer.

  “Did you hear me, cancer?” I yelled at the empty room like a crazy person. “I hate you!”

  I got out my overnight bag and packed what I would need. I’d bet my last dollar that Dr. Harris was going to admit me…I had been right, he admitted me right away and started running all of the fun and glamorous tests to find out if my kidney had stopped working.

  First came the IV, at least the nurse was good, and gentle. As my body began to fill with the fluid, they stuck in the urinary catheter, which I despise. Then there were MRIs and CT scans and Pet scans and blah, blah, blah. Finally, four hours later, Dr. Harris was at my bedside. It was already nine o’clock at night. By now I should be in Brock’s arms.

  “Hey Molly,” he said, like we just ran into each other at the mall.

  “Hey Doc,” I said, playing along.

  “Where’s your grandmother?” he asked.

  “I’m assuming she’s at home,” I said. “She doesn’t get out much.”

  He gave me that disapproving doctor look. I guess sarcasm was uncalled for at a time like this. Then he said, “Don’t you think we should call her?”

  “I wanted to see what was going on first, Dr. Harris. I don’t want to worry her unnecessarily.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” he said. “You’re an adult. Here’s the bottom line…your kidney is no longer functioning. The tumors are rapidly multiplying now; they’re causing your nephrons to harden, and they’re blocking blood flow which has caused the tissue in your kidney to die rapidly.”

  I wished that I would wake up from this nightmare. He was telling me that my kidney was no longer working. It was gone, dead, kaput. I wished that I would wake up all shaky and sweaty and even in tears. Then, Brock would pull me over into his strong arms and tell me it was all a bad dream and everything would be alright. I tried denial first, “So can we just take out t
hose tumors, the ones that are blocking all the stuff in there?” I knew the anatomy of a kidney inside and out by now. I knew that wasn’t possible, but what was I going to do or say? My brain didn’t want to process this.

  He looked at me like he was trying to decide if he should call psych and order a consult. At last he said, “No, Molly. We have to take that kidney out. If we don’t, the cancer will just continue to spread to your other organs. This way, we at least get it out of your body.”

  “But….I can’t live without any kidneys, Doc.” Jeez, he went to medical school. You think he would know that.

  “We’ll get you on the donor list, Molly. You’re an excellent candidate and I think you’ll place near the top. We will also have to get you started on dialysis.”

  I was trying hard to process this. Donor list? Dialysis? What my head interpreted that into were medical issues…forever. I was never going to be normal…not ever, and then I would die, probably very young.

  What that horrible realization translated to was that I was going to have to break up with Brock. I think I had finally decided that I was falling in love with him. No, I know that I’m falling in love with him, and if I have any concept of what love is at all, I have to tell myself that the most important part of it is wanting the person you’re in love with to be happy. What kind of a life can a man who is sitting in a hospital with his sick girlfriend have? Worse yet, what about the guy who’s in his early twenties and sitting at her funeral next to the grandmother who way outlived her? A miserable life, that’s what he would have. I can’t be responsible for that. I won’t be.

  “So what’s first?” I asked him. I was trying to be brave, but I was scared to death.

  “I’m going to arrange for the surgery to take place early next week. We need to have you complete a course of antibiotics first. In the meantime we’ll also get the donor paperwork filled out, and get you set up for dialysis. We’ll probably put in the Vas-Cath while we have you in surgery to take out the kidney.”

  I knew that a Vas-Cath was a tube that went in through your main artery, near your heart. It would be where they would pull out my blood and wash it and put it back in…two or three times a week. Dr. Harris and I had talked about this before…just in case. Then after a while, they would either put in a fistula which is another set of tubes in my arm or they would let me do my own dialysis using a bag and a tube and…well anyways, none of it was going to be attractive. It would hardly be a selling point on a dating site: I like long walks on the beach and warm water in my peritoneal dialysis bag.