Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family)

by Alycia Taylor

  “And I thank you for that,” I said. This time I said it with a sweet smile. “You take care, Tammy.” I got 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 hi
s 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 those 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.

  “Would you like me to call your Grandmother?” Dr. Harris asked.

  It was nice of him to offer, but I needed to be the one to tell her. I would actually rather tell her to her face. I knew she would take it well like she takes everything. She would tell me everything was going to be fine and not to worry. Meanwhile, she would do all the worrying. She used to tell me that was her job and I shouldn’t try to take that from her.

  “No, I’ll talk to her,” I said. “Can I go home and take the antibiotics?” I asked him.

  “Yes, tomorrow,” he said. “You’re running a temperature tonight. We’re going to keep an eye on you and give you some more fluids.” He looked at me then for what seemed like a long, uncomfortable amount of time. I actually think that he was considering the possibility that I was suicidal. I couldn’t tell this older, professional man that my heart was breaking though. I’m sure he wouldn’t understand. He finally said, “Are you okay, Molly? Is there anyone I can call for you tonight?”

  Brock please… “No, Doc. I’m fine, thank you. I’ll call everyone who needs to know.”

  “Okay, let us know if you change your mind. I can get one of the counselors down here too.”

  “Okay, thanks, Doc.” Thank you for telling me that I’m going to lose the best thing that ever happened to me. I should have stuck with my guns about not wanting a boyfriend. Or I should have gone for it right away, and had more time with him. I don’t know what I should have done. I do know what I have to do. As soon as I get out of here, I had to break up with Brock. I wasn’t going to put him through this, and I’m not telling him why I’m breaking up with him either. I could very well be dying…I couldn’t stand to see the pain in those pretty blue eyes when I told him that. It wouldn’t be fair; we barely got to know one another. If I break up with him, he’ll get over it and move on. If I make him watch me die…we’ll that would probably affect him for a long time.

  I stuck out the night with the nurses waking me up every hour like they do. When Dr. Harris came in the next morning, my temperature was down, and I had plenty of fluids in me to keep from getting dehydrated for a while. I still couldn’t pee, and I was already feeling the bloating that Dr. Harris said I would get from retaining fluids. He gave me the prescription for antibiotics and let me go home. I had an appointment the next day with the transplant doctor, and one after that with the nurse who ran the dialysis unit. It would be a busy week, but there were a few things I had to take care of first.

  I went back to the room, and Megan got there not long after. She was surprised to see me.

  “Hey. Brock told us you had to go help your Grandma.”

  I looked up at her and that was it, just a look.

  “Oh, Molly. You’re sick again, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. I hadn’t really cried yet, and I was afraid if I tried to speak I would start. Megan came over and sat on the bed next to me.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  I opened my mouth to try, and all that came out was a croak, and then the dam opened up and the tears came out like a flood. Megan hugged me and let me soak her T-shirt with tears and mascara. She was an amazing friend. I knew for a fact that she was wearing a new blouse. It had been stupid of me to put the make-up on, I know. But I had planned to go talk to Brock, and even though I was breaking up with him I had wanted to look good. That thought triggered more tears, and Megan, God bless her, just let me cry for a really long time. When I was finally able to stop, she got me some tissue and came and sat next to me once more.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Stop it. You haven’t got anything to apologize for. The world needs to apologize to you, I think. When you’re ready, I’d like to know what’s going on.”

  I finally told her…everything. When I finished she was looking at me like she didn’t believe it, or she didn’t want to. She hugged me again and as I felt her body shake I realized that she was crying now too. When she sat back up she wiped her face and said, “I’m sorry.”

  I gave her the same look and lecture she gave me. Only hers included the fact that she was the best BFF in the world, and I was so damned lucky to have her.

  She finally asked the question of the hour, “What about Brock?”

  “I don’t want him to know, Meg…please.”

  “Molly, you two have gotten so close. How is he not going to know?”

  “I’m going to break up with him,” I told her.

  “Molly…” she said.

  “Hear me out Meggs, please,” I told her that my chances of dying were high and how unfair that would be to him. I told her everything I’d been thinking for the past twelve hours or so. When I finished she said, “I wish you would change your mind. But…I won’t tell him, or Jake. Just promise me you’ll at least think about it, Molly. He’s really into you. Breaking up with him alone is going to hurt him.”

  “I know,” I told her, “but not as much as watching me as I wither away, and then having to attend my funeral would.” My mind was made up, and short of Dr. Harris calling and saying he made a mistake; I was breaking up with the best thing that ever happened to me today.

  I called Grandma while Meg was in the shower. I told her honestly what Dr. Harris had said. She of course said I should have called her last night, and then said, “I’m on my way.”

/>   “No, Gran. I’m fine today. I will let you know as soon as they schedule the surgery, I promise.” She was quiet on the other end. She didn’t like it, but she finally agreed, telling me that if I ended up back in the hospital and didn’t call her, she was going to kick my butt. She even threatened to call Debbie. I believed that she was serious.

  Lastly, I called Brock.

  “Hi good-looking,” he said. “Are you back?”

  “Yeah, I’m back,” I said. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

  “Absolutely!” he said with so much enthusiasm I almost started crying again. “Do you want me to come there, or come get you and bring you over here?” he asked.

  “No, Megan’s going to bring me and pick Jake up,” I told him. “She said to tell him to get ready.” She heard Brock repeat that to Jake, and then a few minutes later he said, “He wants to know what he’s getting ready for.”

  I laughed. Thank you, Jake for always amusing me. “Tell him she didn’t say, and she’s in the shower. So, if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll just put some decent clothes on and be ready when she gets there.”

  Brock laughed too and repeated what I said to Jake. Then he said, “I can’t wait to see you.”

  That did it the tears took on a life of their own again. I said, “Me too” and hung up as quickly as I could, before he figured it out.

  When Meg finished in the shower I cleaned my face up again, this time taking all the make-up off. It was pointless. I was sure I wasn’t finished crying.

  She dropped me off at the apartment. She gave me a hug and said, “Think about it, Molly, please. I know he would want to be there for you.” I knew that too, and as amazing as that made him, didn’t she see that was the problem?

  She must have texted Jake, because as I was going up he was coming down. “Hey Molly,” he said with his big Jake grin.

  “Hi Jake,” I said. “I’m sorry to kick you out of your apartment. It will only be for a little while,” I told him.