What's Left of Me

by Maxlyn, Amanda

  I laugh at his silliness. I love the fact that he’s able to make me laugh. It feels as if lately Jean is the only one who can get that out of me.

  He starts to laugh with me. “What? I’m not ashamed of my sensitive side.”

  This causes me to laugh harder. “Okay, Romeo.”

  Calming our laughter, Parker takes a small sip of his red wine before continuing our conversation. “Tell me more about you.”

  “Oh, no you don’t, buddy. This is supposed to be about you. You already got your interview questions in.”

  Parker leans back in his chair, interlocking his fingers before bringing his hands behind his head, stretching his body outward. I watch attentively, which causes him to break out in his charming smile, again.

  This man knows how to use his smile. It’s perfect. His teeth are perfect in color and alignment. It’s no wonder he is always grinning. I would too, if I had a smile like his.

  “I grew up just outside of West Palm Beach in a town called Jupiter. I have one brother who is younger, but I’m better looking.” He offers another wink then adds, “I wasn’t planning on coming to Minnesota, but I’m glad I did.” I silently swear at the blush that takes over my chest, creeping up my cheeks.

  “How old are you?” I ask. I’ve wondered this since I first met him.

  “Twenty-seven.”

  I nod my head in approval. I’m surprised a twenty-seven year old is able to buy into a company and become partner, especially right after graduating, but I remember what Genna told me about his family having money.

  Our food is brought out and we both dig right in. I’m not shy about my eating habits. I’m not the type of girl to order a salad because she’s afraid of the guy she’s with seeing her eat, and I don’t drink anything that says diet. If a guy doesn’t like the way you eat, then he was never that into you.

  As I take another bite of my chicken, I watch as Parker cuts into his lasagna. It looks so good, filled with layers of cheese.

  “You want to try it?” he offers, holding a piece out on his fork to me.

  It does look amazing. It’s such an intimate gesture, I can’t help but nod even though I probably shouldn’t.

  Since cheese is dripping off the fork, he keeps one hand under it as he brings it to my open mouth. It’s hot, but the mixture of spices, cheese, and meat is simply divine.

  “That is so good,” I say with my eyes closed.

  “I don’t think I need to eat. I could just sit and watch you eat all night.”

  My eyes flutter open at his words. Embarrassed, I wipe my mouth with my napkin.

  He gives me a smile and I flush again.

  “Are we going to address the elephant in the room?” Parker asks between bites.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Us.”

  “I thought we did? We agreed we’re moving on. It’s over and done with. We’ll be friends.”

  “I think you and I both know that’s not going to happen.”

  Setting down my fork, I ask, “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to be honest here. We both know there is something going on between us. We’re obviously attracted to one another. What harm is there in getting to know each other more?”

  “I’m not sleeping with you again, Parker.”

  “I didn’t ask you to, but I won’t object to the idea.” He wiggles his eyebrows while giving me the biggest boyish grin.

  “How do you know I’m not already seeing someone?”

  “Because you wouldn’t be here with me right now. If you were seeing someone and told him you were coming here with me, he would be stupid to allow it. Besides, Jason told me you’re single after you refused to answer me at the clinic. And you don’t come across as the type of girl to sleep with someone if you were already seeing someone else.”

  Touché.

  Of course he asked Jason, and of course Jason would tell him I’m single. I’ll have to make a mental note to kick Jason when I get back.

  “Look, Parker, you’re a nice guy. You’re the guy who girls want to take home to Mom and Dad. You’re good-looking, you have perfect manners, you’re educated and funny. But I have too many things going on in my life right now. I don’t have time for a boyfriend, or dating, for that matter. I need to concentrate on school and stuff.”

  “You think I’m a nice guy?” He moves closer to the table, resting his arms on the table with mine. His left hand barely brushes mine.

  “Of course I do.”

  “What does that make you then? A bad girl?” He leans in even closer, moving almost on top of the table, and whispers, “Because I like bad girls.”

  “Parker!” Playfully, I swat at the arm closest to mine.

  “What?” He moves back into his chair.

  “Is sex all you think about?”

  “No. But when you’re sitting across from me, it’s hard not to.” I let out a heavy sigh, which makes him lean back further. “Okay. Okay.” He chuckles. “All joking aside, Aundrea, I’m not asking for any type of commitment. I’m simply talking about a man and a woman who happen to find each other attractive getting together from time to time outside of work to get to know one another better. Some people might call that dating, but we can call it whatever you want if it makes you feel better about the idea and gets you to say yes.”

  I know what he’s asking of me, and I’m not sure I’m ready to give a part of myself up to him—or anyone, for that matter. Things are already complicated, and adding Parker into the craziness of my so-called life could be disastrous. Scratch that. It will be disastrous.

  “I’m sorry, Parker. I can do the friend thing, but not the dating. I ha—”

  “I know, you have stuff. You’re reading too much into this. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me. I’m just asking for a date, or two, or more. I’ll take however many you’re willing to allow me because I’m really enjoying myself with you and want to get to know you better. And, if we happen to fall into bed together at the end of the night, so be it. After all, how can you resist this?”

  And there he is! Cocky Parker is back.

  I give him a stern look and he breaks into a loud, deep laugh. People around us turn and look in our direction. I hate people staring. I know they’re just interested in the commotion at our table, but I can’t help the unease that moves through me. I stare blankly at Parker, letting him know I am not finding this funny, but deep down, I have to admit that I like his playfulness.

  He throws his hands up in defeat. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Come on. I’ll be good. I’m done. I promise. You just make it so easy, I can’t pass up the opportunity.”

  Yeah right. I’m learning that when Parker says he’ll be good, he really means the opposite. “I’m sure you will be.”

  We both stay silent, looking blankly at one another.

  I take a hard look at Parker. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a guy like him in my life, but maybe—just maybe—he’s exactly what I need right now.

  “Okay. I’ll go on a date or two.” I use his words and grin across the table at him.

  “Seriously?” He sits up taller in his chair, as if surprised by my words. I think I just surprised myself.

  I don’t know what I am about to get myself into, but I don’t see Parker stopping his attempts to ask me out. “On one condition.”

  He gives me his full attention, and I can tell he means business when he speaks. “Name it.”

  “No commitment. No strings. No questions. I have a lot going on, and I’m not looking for anything…” I trail off, searching for the right words. I don’t know what I’m looking for because, in truth, until this second, I wasn’t looking for anything. “Serious. And this”—I point between us—“whatever it may be, doesn’t affect our work relationship. I don’t like awkwardness, and I don’t want people talking about my personal life.”

  “Wow, that’s more than one condition.”

  “And, I think it’s best that people at work don’t
know. I don’t want any confrontation.”

  I take a calming breath, counting in my head. I don’t want to change my mind, but secretly I wish I could sneak away to call Jean. I know what comes with dating: talking, opening up about your dreams and aspirations, and sharing your deepest, darkest secrets. Things I’m not sure I can do.

  “You have yourself a deal.”

  I know I can do this. Date Parker. It’s just a few dates, like tonight. Wait, tonight wasn’t a date? Will he think it is now?

  I tell myself that this will be good for me. Dating will give me something to look forward to. Parker gives me something to look forward to.

  Chapter Nine

  I’ve been dreading this day since my last round of chemo. I’m hooked up to the machine, getting my second round. On top of the Zofran I’ve been given to help eliminate the nausea, Dr. Olson put in an order for another drug to try during my session today in hopes of not getting as sick as last time. Two hours in and I feel just fine. The nurse keeps coming over to check on me, but I dismiss her each time.

  Genna offered to come with me, but I told her I’d be okay going alone, and that I’d call her if I needed anything. I’m confident that doubling-up on anti-nausea medications will prevent me from throwing up during my appointment. I’m thankful that, after my meltdown about driving, Genna and Jason have let up and are allowing me more freedom. It’s progress, but I still hate the feeling of needing permission to do stuff.

  I pass the time talking with my parents on the phone and texting with Jean. My mom tells me that they are coming to see me in a few weeks. They’re trying to rearrange their work schedules so they can take a week instead of just coming for the weekend. They haven’t been here since they helped me move, but they make sure to call me all the time.

  Jean: What are you doing next Saturday?

  Me: Nothing. What did you have in mind?

  Jean: I got tickets to a concert in Minneapolis. Some local rock band. Want to go?

  Me: Yes!

  I’m not much into rock, but I am desperate to get away. To have another night out.

  Jean: Awesome! I have four tickets, so bring your boy toy.

  Me: Boy toy?

  Jean: Yeah. Or is it loverboy now?

  Me: Lol. Neither.

  Jean: Ask him if he has plans. We can have dinner before or something. Maybe get a hotel if you want? We’ll figure it out.

  Me: Umm, sure.

  Jean: Yay!! :) How is it going with him anyway?

  Me: Good …

  Jean: That’s good! I’m happy for you Dre, really!

  Things are good with Parker, I think. I mean, after our date he dropped me off at the house. He didn’t try to kiss me. He held my hand as he walked me to the door, then gave it a quick peck before leaving. Genna and Jason were, of course, waiting up for me as if they were parents waiting for their teenage daughter to get home. Genna asked a million questions. Jason was only concerned about Parker being respectful. There was never a doubt. His questions didn’t get a response. Just an eye roll.

  After staying up past one talking with them, I sent Jean a quick message about the date. I wasn’t surprised she was still up. We went back and forth until I fell asleep with my phone stuck in my hand. I woke up the next morning with a half-written text to her on the screen.

  Parker calls once on Wednesday after I get home from the hospital, but I don’t answer.

  He texts a few times Thursday and I reply briefly, not extending the conversation. I’m too tired to lift my hand and bring a glass to my mouth, let alone send a text message. The medication I got for nausea helps, but it doesn’t take it away completely. There are times, no matter the position I’m in, where it feels as if I’m on a spinning carnival ride that won’t let me off.

  I don’t hear from him on Friday.

  I can’t do anything aside from lie on the couch or in my bed. I’m beyond lethargic. Jason and Genna watch me like a hawk, not leaving my side except to get food or use the bathroom. Genna sleeps in either the chair next to me while I sleep on the couch, or on the leather couch in my room while I sleep in the bed. I’ve tried to get her to go to bed in her own room, but she refuses.

  Genna continues to force broth down my throat, but it seriously smells like old, musty juice mixed with chicken fat. It is horrible. One sniff of that and I’m instantly throwing up. She assures me it is brand new and just fine, but after yelling at her to get it out of my face, she takes the hint and returns with cherry Jell-O. Just the sight of it makes me ill. She doesn’t even try to give me any, turning on her heel and bringing back water and soda crackers.

  By late Saturday afternoon, I still haven’t heard from Parker. I decide to send him a text to check in.

  Me: Hey.

  He responds immediately.

  Parker: Hey yourself.

  Me: How are you?

  Parker: Good. You?

  Me: Ok. I just wanted to say hi.

  Parker: Hi.

  I wait a while to see if he sends me anything else, but he doesn’t. Flustered, I throw my phone on the opposite side of the couch. He must be really busy and can’t text back. Or maybe he’s mad that I was short with him the other day? I don’t know why I care so much.

  “What’s the matter? Fighting with your phone?” Genna asks, coming into the living room and handing me a cup of black tea. I set it on the floor next to me. I’m too hot to drink tea.

  “No. I’m exhausted. I hate just lying here. I’m bored, but I have no energy to want to get up and do something.”

  “Want me to read a book to you? Or we can watch some Sex and the City or Dexter?”

  “No.”

  I’m sweating, so I rip my wig off. “I hate this stupid thing!” I say as I toss it to the floor.

  “You know you don’t have to wear it when you’re home.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I’m irritated. Like she doesn’t tell me this all the time? Well, sorry, sister dear, that you have long, beautiful, shiny hair. Sorry I don’t. Sorry I want to feel like I do!

  “Dre, come on. Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m fine. Can you please turn the air on or something? It’s freaking hot in here. I’m sweating.”

  “The air? It’s almost October.”

  “Please, Genna. You say you want to help me? Make me comfortable? Just this one time I’m asking something. Please, turn the air on for me.” I can handle feeling cold. Cold is easy. I can always add on layers until I’m nice and toasty. But feeling hot? It’s a horrible feeling. No matter what I do or strip off, I can’t cool down fast enough.

  “Sure.” She gets up from the chair, but she doesn’t come back until hours later. By then, I’m sucked into my latest book. It’s young adult, but so damn good. I actually feel a little dirty crushing on the seventeen year old hottie.

  “Hey, you okay?” Genna asks as she picks up my feet and sits in their place.

  “Yes, you?” I ask, taking in her attire. She’s wearing a hooded sweatshirt, a scarf, and mittens.

  “I’m fine. It’s pretty cold in here, though. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I said yes.”

  “Just checking.”

  “Where have you and Jason been?”

  “The garage.” They have a heated garage, so it doesn’t surprise me that’s where they would be. Jason put a full-sized fridge, small TV, and microwave in there last summer, so I don’t feel too bad for driving them out. They have everything they need to keep them occupied for a few hours.

  I nod my head, then turn back to my Kindle.

  “Jason invited the guys over to play poker in there tonight. Do you mind if I turn the air off now so I can stay in here?” I give her a blank look, and she quickly adds, “Or can I turn it down some? I know you’re hot, but it’s literally freezing in here.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m good. I’m actually just really tired and was going to head to bed anyway. You can turn it off.”

  “Bed? It’s only six.”

  “Yeah, I’
m tired.”

  “You sure? I could make us something to eat?”

  I give her a weak smile. “Thanks, but really, I’m just tired.” I really am tired, but I mainly want to get behind a closed door where it’s private so that I can strip naked and lie down on my bed with the fan blowing on me. I experienced hot flashes with past treatments and even though I was expecting them this round it doesn’t make them any easier to handle.

  “Okay. Do you need help?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  It takes me awhile, but eventually I find the strength to lift myself up off the couch. The first few days of chemo are the worst. The fatigue that overtakes me is unstoppable. It’s as if my body is taken over by something else. I can’t move a muscle without feeling like it’s attached to a forty-pound weight. Then, when I’m able to take a step, it’s like I’m made of Jell-O and my limbs will detach at any given moment.

  My breathing speeds up as I finally get to a standing position. I know Genna all too well—her closeness is not a coincidence. She’s waiting for the opportunity to touch my elbow or waist. She’ll try to make it seem like an accident the first time, but the second time she’ll linger.