Chasing Fate

by Rachael Brownell

  He has a point, but I don't want to argue about that now. I have enough to worry about in the next five minutes. I don't need to add that stress to my plate. Plus, I don't agree with him. If there's nothing my doctor can do for me, and he's one of the best in the nation, there's nothing anyone else will be able to do for me either. I'll prove that to Jackson eventually if he'll listen.

  Nodding my head, I reach for my door handle when the door opens for me. Small arms are thrown around my neck and locks of blond hair tickle my nose. Alex.

  "Hey, bud!"

  "Jessa! You're here!"

  "Oh my gosh, you’re squeezing me so tight. When did you get so strong?"

  Letting me go, Alex steps back, and I'm amazed at how much he's grown since Christmas. He must be at least three inches taller. Judging by the length of the jeans he has on, I'm right. I can see white socks peeking out from the bottom hem. I should buy him some new clothes while were here.

  "I'm becoming a man. I'm getting stronger every day. Mom makes me drink my milk every morning."

  "You're getting taller, too. We should go shopping. I'll buy you some new clothes. Sound good?"

  "That's girl stuff."

  "How about we do the girl stuff and then go for pizza and video games after?"

  "I could handle that," he says.

  Forgetting Jackson is behind me, I look over my shoulder to find him grinning from ear to ear. I have a feeling my boys are going to get along great.

  "Alex, this is my friend Jackson."

  "Hey."

  "Hi, Alex. It's nice to meet you."

  "You, too. Come on. Mom made lasagna and garlic bread."

  Pulling on my arm, Alex leads the way to the house while Jackson grabs my purse. We thought about staying here tonight, but we didn't have time to grab our bags during our mad dash out of the apartment earlier, so now we need to go back to Jackson's place.

  Closing the front door behind Jackson, I hear my mother call out to us.

  "In the kitchen, Jessica."

  "Jessica?" Jackson inquires with a smirk on his face.

  "Only my mother calls me that, so don't go getting any ideas."

  "Oh, I have plenty of ideas, but I don't need to call you Jessica to make them happen." His words, the simple innuendo behind them, have my skin tingling and body heating. It's only been an hour since we left the apartment, and I'm ready for round two.

  "What does that mean?" Alex asks from behind Jackson.

  Shit! We need to watch what we say. I'm not used to having little ears around. And Alex likes to ask a lot of questions about everything.

  "Nothing, bud. Let's show Jackson around. Can you lead the way?"

  "Follow me!" he shouts, running ahead of us, his arms spread wide as if he's flying an airplane. He's so carefree. I'm afraid I'll crush that the moment he finds out I'm sick.

  My mother's prepping a salad as we walk into the kitchen. Wiping her hands on her apron, she pulls me in for a hug. She stiffens in my arms before pushing back and holding me at arm’s length.

  "What's wrong with you? You've lost weight and you were already skinny."

  "What?" I ask, trying to sound surprised at her admission.

  "Somethings wrong. You've never been this thin, Jessica."

  "Where's Dad?" I ask, attempting to change the subject.

  "He'll be home any minute. Don't try and change the subject on me. What's going on?" The look on her face is one I've seen many times. My mom doesn't take any shit. When she wants answers, she tends to get them from whomever she can.

  "Mrs. Kline, I'm Jackson."

  Letting out a sigh of relief, I step aside. Jackson and my mom make small talk for a few minutes, but I don't miss the fact that she's eying me up and down. Knowing that he'll keep her occupied, I take a seat at the table, turning my back to her, and talk with Alex about school, our trip, and, of course, my pink hair.

  When my dad gets home, things get even more interesting. It's obvious that my parents can tell something is wrong. Jackson is doing his best to keep their questions at bay until Alex isn't around like we planned, but things are unraveling quickly. Just as we sit down to eat, my father puts his foot down.

  "So, Jackson, if Jessa won't tell us what's wrong, will you, please? She likes to make us worry, and if you care about her like I think you do, you wouldn't want us to worry about her any more than we already do."

  Oh shit!

  "Dad, listen. Let's wait until Alex is in bed, and then we can talk."

  "Oh no! It's bad, isn't it?" My mom immediately starts to freak out. I can see the tears forming in her eyes. If she starts to cry, I'll cry and won't be able to stop.

  "No, Mom. It's not bad. Hold on and I'll tell you."

  Retrieving my purse from the living room, I slip on my engagement ring. It would have been the first thing my mom noticed when I walked in if I had been wearing it. I wanted to tell them after dinner, but I didn't realize they would notice my weight loss so quickly. In fact, I didn't realize I looked so bad. Maybe I haven't noticed much of a change since I look at myself every day. I should probably step on a scale.

  Covering my ring until I'm seated at the table, all eyes are on me. Jackson's included. His eyes are about to bulge out of his head. I promised him I would give him a few minutes warning before I announced things. He wanted to do the right thing–pull my dad aside and ask for permission. There's no time for that now.

  "Mom, Dad, Jackson and I are engaged," I spit out before I lose my nerve. Placing my hand on the tablecloth, I display my ring for my parents to see.

  Tears begin streaming down my mom's face. At the same time, steam comes out of my father's ears. Well, not literally, but if he were a cartoon character, that would be what was happening right now. His face is turning a deep shade of red, and he's clenching his jaw.

  "Mr. Kline, I was going to ask for your permission before Jessa announced it. I didn't mean any disrespect, sir." Jackson's mumblings go unheard. My father's attention is focused on me at the moment. I can see the disappointment in his eyes, but there's something else there, as well.

  "Can I please speak to you in the other room?" my dad asks as he pushes away from the table, his chair making a loud scraping sound against the floor.

  Following my father into the living room, a million scenarios go through my head. If I can anticipate what he's going to say, maybe I can come up with a way to convince him that this is a good thing.

  "Pink hair and an engagement ring, huh?" he asks, turning on the light and taking a seat in his favorite recliner.

  "The hair is part of the list, Dad. I just had it done last week."

  "And the ring?"

  "It was a surprise. He asked me while we were in Venice."

  "Why?"

  "Why, what?"

  "Why does he want to marry you? Why did he ask you? Why him? You've been together a month, Jessa. This hardly feels like the right time to get engaged."

  Ah! That's what this is about. The only time I've ever mentioned Jackson to my parents was last week when I finally told them he came on the trip with me. It's not like I was ever going to tell them that we'd been sleeping together casually for years. That wouldn't have gone over well.

  "I've known him for a long time. He's lived next door to me since I moved into the apartments. We've always been friends."

  "Yet you never mentioned him to us."

  "Why would I?"

  "Why not? When we ask how you are or what you've been up to, you never once said you were hanging out with your neighbor."

  "It's not like we hung out a lot. I was always working."

  "So you don't know him that well, then."

  Damn it! We're going to go round and round until I tell him the truth. He isn't going to like it, he's not going to want to hear it, but it's what he's asking me for.

  For ten minutes, I do the best I can to explain our "friendship" to my father without calling Jackson my fuck buddy. The moment it all clicks, I notice the difference in his posture.
He shifts in his seat uncomfortably and looks away. I was afraid he was going to be disappointed in me, but he appears more disgusted with our arrangement than anything. That's fine. He doesn't have to like the way things used to be. He does, however, need to get used to the way things are now.

  "Anything else you care to share with me that I need to know? Anything that will better help me to understand why my daughter is engaged after only weeks of dating someone?"

  This is it. I should tell him now. Get it over with. He can tell Mom. He's better equipped to take care of her when this rips her apart. He's the stronger of the two of them.

  "Actually, there is. I need you to let me tell you everything, though, before you ask any questions or else I might not get it all out."

  His eyes widen. I can see the concern as he straightens his back, sitting straight up in his chair. Nodding his head only once, I take a deep breath and let it all out.

  When it all started. The doctor appointments. All the testing. Finally, the results and my prognosis. He doesn't interrupt me. He doesn't ask questions. Once I'm done, I notice there are tears in his eyes, but he's not looking at me. He's looking past me and when I look over my shoulder, I notice Alex standing just inside the room.

  How much did he hear?

  "Alex, buddy, what are you doing?"

  "Mom sent me to get you. You're dying, Jessa?"

  My kid is too smart for his own good. I never used the words death or dying, but it was implied. He's been standing there much longer than I hoped.

  "Come here," I say as I pat my legs. Shuffling into the room, he crawls into my lap and rests his head against my chest. I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. "We all die one day, buddy. My day is just going to come a little sooner than most people's. That doesn't mean that you won't get to see me for a while. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I promise."

  As his body shakes, I rock him back and forth. This was not the plan. Him knowing was not the plan. Most of all, dying was not the plan.

  Chapter 18

  My father promised to tell my mother after we left. Alex promised to keep it a secret until everyone else knew. As we said our goodbyes, I felt guilty for not telling my mother myself. She recognized something was wrong right away. She has always cared enough about me to notice these things. When I was growing up, she was always the first to ask about my day. When it was a bad day, she comforted me. When it was a good day, we celebrated the little things.

  Today was a good day for her. Her daughter is getting married. Tomorrow, on the other hand, is going to be a bad day. She's going to wake up and remember the last thing my father told her before they went to sleep. It's going to destroy her in a way that I'm not sure she can recover from.

  After dinner, my father took Jackson for a walk. Unaware of what happened in the living room, Jackson looked freaked out as they walked out the front door. It was an innocent conversation, mostly. He wanted to make sure Jackson's intentions were sincere, especially after he learned about our relationship. He also grilled him about how I'm really doing. Am I sleeping enough? Too much? Eating healthy? Drinking myself stupid?

  I didn't learn any of this until our ride home after I told Jackson how things went down with my father in the living room.

  It made for a depressing car ride. In fact, there were a few times I almost started bawling. Like when I explained to Jackson that Alex had been standing behind me and how I had to tell Alex I was dying. And how he cried in my arms and the only thing I wanted to do was hold him until he fell asleep like any mother would do, only I couldn't. Because that's my mom's job right now.

  "Why don't you tell him the truth?"

  "I was going to, but now that he knows I'm dying, what good would that do? That would tear him apart even more. He wouldn't be losing his sister, he'd be losing his mother."

  "I wish you would quit telling people you were dying. You don't know that."

  "I do know that, and I'm not having this conversation again."

  "I'll stop bringing it up if you'll agree to a second opinion."

  "I'll agree to it if you can promise me they'll tell me something I don't already know. I don't want false hope of, Jackson. I need someone to cure me, and from what I've been told, that's not an option. No one will operate. Chemo won't touch it. I'm out of options."

  Dropping the subject because he can tell I'm getting angry, Jackson places his hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze. I force a smile, but it's not sincere. Every time I think about agreeing, I get the notion in my head I can change the ending to my story. I wish it were true, more than anything, but it's not.

  The truth of the matter is I might not even make it to our wedding. We haven't set a date yet. No plans have been made. If it doesn't happen soon, it might not happen at all. We should probably have that discussion. Not right now, though. I'm still irritated, and when we talk about the wedding, the last thing I want is to be irritated with the man I'm about to marry.

  "What time are you and Amber going out in the morning?" Jackson asks as he locks the apartment door behind us.

  "Early. We're meeting for breakfast at seven thirty."

  "I'm going to head down to the gym and get some things done when you leave. Let me know when you're on your way back, and I'll meet you here. Once we're packed, we can get on the road. Are you sure you still want to leave tomorrow night? We can always put it off a day or two."

  "No, I wanna go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll be back."

  "You don't sound excited about it anymore."

  "I am, it's just now that my parents know, it feels like I'm running away from this. I should spend the last little bit of time I have with them and Alex, not off touring the country."

  "You could, you know."

  "I know, but as guilty as I feel, I want to finish what I started. Once the trip is over, I'm here until... well, until I'm not anymore."

  Way to kill the mood, Jessa. We need to stop talking about this. We normally avoid talking about it, but since we've been here, it's all we've talked about. Maybe getting away from home will make it stop.

  Bright and early, Jackson's alarm clock shouts at me from across the room. The sun isn't even up yet, and if it weren't for Amber, I wouldn't be either. Maybe we should have stayed one more day and then we could have had our girls’ night out. Instead, we're having a girl’s day out that, according to her, needs to start as early as possible.

  Dragging myself out of bed, I push against Jackson to wake him up before I jump in the shower. He groans and rolls over, shooing me away with his hand. Lucky bastard. He can wake up whenever he wants. He can go to work whenever he wants. Must be nice.

  Turning off the shower, I open the door to the bedroom to let the steam out. That's when I smell it. Coffee. Jackson must have gotten up. Peeking into the bedroom, I find it vacant.

  "Hey," he says, startling me. Jackson's leaning against the frame of the door leading to the living room, holding a cup of coffee in each hand.

  "Oooh! Thank you," I say, scurrying over to him, holding my towel up with one hand.

  "It's gonna cost you," he replies, holding both cups over his head where he knows I won't be able to reach them.

  "Oh yeah? What's the going rate for a cup of coffee around here?"

  "What are you willing to give me for it?"

  "Hmmm," I say, pretending to think about it. Letting my towel go, I stand on my tip toes and whisper a few dirty ideas in his ear. Then I kiss his cheek, grab my cup of coffee, and head back into the bathroom, shaking my ass as I go.

  "That's not fair."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You didn't do any of that, but you took your coffee."

  "I didn't say I would do it now."

  "That's how you want to play it, huh?"

  Stepping away from the mirror, I catch Jackson's line of sight, make eye contact, and raise my brow at him. "I'm not playing, I'm just running late. When we meet back here later, I'll make good on my promise."

  Givi
ng me the stink eye, Jackson takes a seat on the bed, puts his coffee on the table, and lays back. "You could do me one favor before you go," he says, humping the air.

  "If I weren't late, my mouth would satisfy your every need. Later, I will."

  Turning on my blow dryer, I end our conversation for now. I have ten minutes to get ready or Amber is going to be yelling when I walk in the door. I'm almost done when my blow dryer turns off. Thinking I need to hit the reset button, I reach over to find it's not plugged in.

  Jackson's holding the plug in one hand. At first, I think he's playing a game with me, so I smile slyly at him. He doesn't return my enthusiasms. That's when I look in his other hand.

  Pink hair. A big handful. I forgot to clean off the pillowcase this morning. Shit!

  "What the hell!" I exclaim, pretending to be surprised as I reaching for the hair. "Where did you get that?"

  "Where do you think?"

  "I have no idea," I lie. “It’s not a big deal. The doctor said it might happen at some point.”

  “Not a big deal!” he screams, his words echoing off the walls of the small bathroom. “I’d say this is a very big deal. Jessa, you've been losing your hair for a while now, but it's never been this bad."

  He knew. Why didn't he say anything? As I open my mouth to answer him, I realize I have no idea what to say. He's right. It hasn't been this bad. The clump of hair in his hand is twice the size of any I've gathered off the pillow recently.

  "It must be the dye. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," I hear myself say before I can even think about it. Reaching for the cord, I pull it from his hand, plug it in, and turn my blow dryer back on, effectively ending our conversation before my emotions get the best of me.

  I'm on autopilot.

  Nothing else matters right now.

  I need to get out of here, meet Amber, and pretend like my world’s not crashing down around me.

  If only I didn't have to pretend.

  Maybe I should apologize. If I don’t, this will eat at me all day. I won’t be able to enjoy my time with Amber.

  Jackson was gone by the time I finished drying my hair. Surprised he didn't even bother to say goodbye, I find a note taped to the door.