by Jim Cangany
Miranda gave me a sharp look. "What do you mean she won't do radiation?" Her tone was even sharper.
I told her about my phone call with Julia and Annie's subsequent response. After running my fingers through my hair, I leaned on the patio railing. A bead of sweat from the July sun tricked down my neck.
"I know it's going to be hard, but I really think she needs the radiation treatments. I've tried a half a dozen times the past few days, but she won't budge. After some of the blow ups we've had, I'm afraid to push her any more on this. Will you talk to her?"
"Leave it to me." She put her hand on my shoulder. "I think I can get her to come around."
On their way out the door, Miranda gave me a thumbs-up. A little later, I grabbed my grocery list and headed out the door. If anybody could get Annie to do something she didn't want to do, it was Miranda. She'd cajoled my North Star into doing some crazy things over the past few months. Things I'd never imagined Annie doing in a million years, like the weekend they'd spent tent camping in Turkey Run State Park or the evening early in Annie's treatment when they'd sampled progressively more intense hot sauces until neither of them could feel their tongues.
Sure, I was Annie's fiancé. But Miranda was her best friend. She could reach Annie in ways I couldn't. It reminded me a little of how Gloria would complain to me sometimes about how I was the only person on the planet who could talk sense into Evan.
The thought made me smile. Yeah, Miranda had this.
I was loaded down with two full bags of groceries when I got back. Annie took unfair advantage of my defenseless condition and threw a damp, balled up bandanna at me on my way to the kitchen. It bounced off my forehead and landed in the bag that contained the milk and eggs.
"You ratted me out."
With an air of deliberate dignity, I placed the groceries on the counter and tossed the bandanna in the sink. "So Miranda, it's mission accomplished, then?"
Our friend joined me as I put the groceries away. "Yes, barely. I've had an easier time reasoning with my five year old niece."
I put a box of granola in a cabinet. "Yeah, it's that spoiled entertainer in her. Did she stomp her foot?"
"Hello, I'm right here."
Miranda didn't miss a beat. "Oh, yeah. You know that thing where she crosses her arms and huffs? She did that a couple of times, too."
"That's a classic. Did she try elbow you in the ribs?"
"Excuse me."
Miranda put the milk and eggs in the fridge. "She threatened me with that. I just told her I'd put my hand on her forehead and she wouldn't be able to touch me."
"You've definitely got the reach."
Annie slapped her hand on the counter. "Enough." Her shout echoed off the condo walls.
Miranda and I turned. Red-faced, Annie was shaking out the hand she must have used to get our attention.
Miranda sighed. "And she's definitely got the temper."
Annie glared, first at me and then at Miranda. When we remained still, she stuck out her lower lip and crossed her arms. "You guys are mean. I can't believe you're picking on me after I agreed to the stupid radiation."
We wrapped her in our arms. "Yes, and thanks to that stupid radiation, your fiancé and I will be able to pick on you for years to come."
We made our way to the patio and spent the rest of the afternoon simply hanging out. There was no discussion of Annie's condition. Neither the record nor the wedding came up. We just...talked. About simple things, like the latest summer movies and how Miranda's garden was coming along. It was as if the world had granted us a time-out for a few hours and we could sit back and just be.
When it was time for Miranda to go, I walked her to her car. I chose not to ask her how she'd gotten Annie to change her mind about the radiation treatments. Maybe Annie had been close to making the decision and Miranda had nudged her over the line. Or possibly Miranda had resorted to strong-arming her into the decision.
Again, I thought of Gloria. Whenever I'd convinced Evan to do what G had requested, she'd never asked how I'd done it. She'd just thanked me and moved on.
So I did the same and moved on with renewed confidence that Annie and I would be in Miranda's debt for the rest of our lives. And the longer we were in her debt, the better.
Twenty-Two
"I'll be back in a week." Annie kissed me on the cheek.
"You're sure you're up to this?" I didn't even attempt to hide the doubt in my voice.
She opened her car door. "It's only three appearances: L.A., Chicago and New York. I'll be fine, I promise."
"I just don't want you to get worn down and end up getting sick. What with everything coming up."
"I'm fully aware that as soon as I get back, it's non-stop radiation treatments until a week before the wedding." She paused, which let me know she still wasn't crazy about this additional course of treatment. "Which is why I need to go now. You know Doctor Francis is on board with this."
With a sigh, I shrugged. She was bound and determined to make this publicity tour. Thanks to the wedding planning to-do list she'd left for me, there was no way I could go with her.
"I know. It's just we've got a pretty tight deadline and I can't have my bride-to-be getting sick." I kissed her and held her tight. "Have fun. See you soon."
She gave me her heart-melting smile and slipped into the car. "I promise I'll call or text every night. I love you, Mister Almost E.J. Wilson."
"And I love you, Miss Almost Annie McCarty." My heart did a little flip as she pulled out of the garage. She gave me a little wave and drove out of sight.
I turned on my heel to dive into my wedding prep to-do list. Before that fateful train trip, if someone would have told me I'd be getting married so soon, I'd have ended up rolling on the floor with laughter. Instead I chuckled, ecstatic beyond belief I didn't have to apologize for being so wrong.
I spent most of the day on the phone handling tasks as Cassandra Lawrence's assistant—making sure hotel arrangements were set, confirming car service pick-ups, keeping Samantha and Ira in the loop.
The last call was of a more personal nature. It was with Julia. She'd left a message asking if we had questions additional about Annie's radiation treatments. She knew our schedule was tight.
I returned the call to confirm my understanding of the course of treatment was correct. Annie had met with the radiation oncologist, Doctor Margaret Francis, and all of her questions had been answered. Beginning on August twentieth, Annie was to receive a dose of radiation every day Monday through Friday through October fifth. That gave her a whole week until the wedding to let the radiation-induced scar tissue start to heal.
Oh boy.
While Annie jetted across the country promoting her new record, I worked my way down the wedding to-do list. Invitations had been mailed a few days after we'd returned from the West Coast and the RSVPs had been drifting in. It was time to go through them. Given Annie's desire for privacy, the guest list wasn't long: business associates of hers, friends of mine and a handful of relatives on both sides.
Over Annie's protests, we'd sent an invitation to her mom. "Our paths diverged years ago, E.J. Why are you making me do this," she'd asked.
"Because she's your mother and it's the right thing to do. If she declines, fine. At least you'll be able to say you made the effort."
Her mom's RSVP was in the first batch I went through. It thanked us and wished us well, but said the travel all the way from France and back made it unworkable.
We'd tried. At least she'd written her note in English. Or had somebody do it for her.
My spirits actually rose a little bit as I put her mom's note in the decline pile. Annie had done the right thing by inviting her to the wedding. We'd left the door open, and it was her mom who'd closed it.
I still had a hard time accepting that the division between them had grown so wide that even her cancer diagnosis hadn't bridged the gap. My heart had almost broken in two when I'd listened to the business-like tone the two women had maint
ained when Annie had called her mom about the diagnosis.
And now another opportunity for reconciliation, even if it was a remote one, had passed them by. As disappointing as that was to me, I knew it wouldn't be disappointing to Annie. Ah, family.
* * * *
During my tour of the Art Center to confirm the layout for the ceremony and reception, an issue came up. The wedding planner was concerned about the weather. Mid-October weather in Indiana is notoriously unpredictable. I'd remembered everything from sunny skies and temps reaching eighty to days of driving rain where the mercury hovered in the mid-forties.
The planner explained that since we hadn't booked the courtyard area until late in the game, the Center didn't have indoor facilities available for a group our size if it rained.
"Yeah, Annie's been pretty insistent about an outdoor wedding on the grounds here, hasn't she?"
The planner nodded and looked the other way. I shook my head, fully aware of just how insistent my control freak of a fiancé was being about the whole affair.
It had been surprising she'd trusted so many of the wedding arrangement tasks to me while she was gone. Of course, I was providing her nightly updates. She hadn't turned into anything resembling a bridezilla by any means. She just couldn't help her nature. That was part of what made her one of the most amazingly popular successful artists in the world. It was who she was and I loved her for it, even if it made life challenging at times.
The planner flipped through her notes. "Do you have a plan B?"
"Nope."
"Mr. McCarty, it's my duty to inform you and Ms. Wilson the peril you and your guests face if the weather turns on you."
"I appreciate it, Eileen. But like I said, Annie can be incredibly insistent when she wants something. And what she wants is an outdoor wedding and reception. I'll be happy to sign off on something absolving you of any responsibility if the weather turns south."
She tapped her pen on her notepad. "It's just this is an important day for you two and I want it to be memorable. For all the right reasons."
"Your concerns are duly noted and appreciated." I brought the matter to a close by asking for a status report on the decorations. That led to a discussion of the seating arrangements, and finally the catering. We wrapped up the meeting with a plan to touch base in early September, by which time we would have a pretty good idea of a final head count.
What the wedding planner didn't know, or anyone else for that matter, was that Annie and I had struck a grand bargain. She'd gotten steamed when I'd refused to tell her what my tuxedo looked like, so I'd made a deal with her. She gave up a little bit of control and refrained from asking, or cajoling, or withholding sex to find out what my tux looked like. In exchange, I let her have her way with everything else. I got to have a special surprise and she got to have the wedding just the way she wanted, almost.
Twenty-Three
Dinner was on the table and a bottle of wine was in the chiller when Annie came through the door. She went straight to the couch and lay down, covering her eyes with her hand.
"Sorry for the lousy greeting, but I've got a massive headache and I'm exhausted. Would you mind getting me some pain meds?"
After giving her the requested medication, I retrieved her bags from the car. She was sitting up when I returned. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin had a pasty sheen to it. Her scalp looked a little different, though. It wasn't as shiny as when I'd last seen it. I ran my fingers over it with as light a touch as I could muster.
"Is this some sort of weird greeting you picked up while I was gone?"
"No. I was checking out your new hair. There's not much yet, but it's definitely there." I took her hand and guided it over this latest sign of her recovery.
"Oh my God." Annie's eyes lit up and she let out a little giggle. "You're right, I can barely feel it, but I can feel it." With a cry of what I'm pretty sure was joy, she threw her arms around me. "Oh E.J., this is the best welcome home I could ever imagine. Thank you."
As if she'd just replaced worn out batteries with brand new ones, she popped up and glided into the kitchen. She pulled out a couple of wine glasses and worked her way back to the couch with a hip-swaying little dance. The dark circles hadn't magically disappeared, but her eyes had a gleam that hadn't been there before.
After I poured, she tipped her glass in my direction. "To you, my Lucky Star."
While I took a small sip, Annie took a lengthy pull before plopping down on the couch with a satisfied-sounding, "Ahhhh." She gave me a peck on the cheek and drained her glass.
"With a reaction like that, I take it you're pleased to have your hair again."
"Totally. I mean, everybody said it would grow back, but in the back of my mind there was always a tiny kernel of doubt. Sometimes I'd catch myself wondering what if I had some freak reaction to the chemo and it never grew back. Well, I can kick that little issue to the curb right now." She kissed me again.
"I'm happy for you Annie. I really am. I..."
"What? Out with it."
"I couldn't help but think about how excited you are at me noticing the growth on your head, that maybe I should do some additional searching..." I raised my eyebrows.
She stared at me for a moment before her mouth fell open. "Oh. My. Lord. You are incorrigible, E.J. McCarty." She refilled her glass, winked, and handed the bottle to me. "Maybe after we finish the bottle, I'll take you up on that offer."
* * * *
Annie took the weekend to laze around the condo. She was in high spirits, but admitted the road trip had taken a lot out of her.
By Monday, she was rested and raring to get the radiation treatments started. "The sooner I start, the sooner I finish." She'd tried to talk me out of coming with her, but I'd insisted.
"I want to be there for the first one. After today, you're on your own. I promise. I know you don't need me, but I just feel like I should be there today."
While my eyes were on the road, I sensed Annie was appraising me. After a minute or two, she patted my leg.
"You're sweet. But today's it."
We were finishing up some paperwork when Annie was called. I followed her into Doctor Francis' office. A framed Hilly Hundred Bike Tour print on the wall caught my attention. A two day cycling festival held every October in the hills of Bloomington, Indiana, The Hilly was one of my favorite events. I'd ridden it at least a dozen times.
Doctor Francis noticed me admiring the print. "Do you like to ride, Mr. McCarty?"
Annie jumped in before I could answer. "More than that, Doctor. He used to be a road racer and spent several years as a mechanic for a professional team."
Doctor Francis smiled. "Well, then, I guess the answer is yes." She turned her attention to Annie. "With the mapping and mold complete, we should be ready to go. Your markings are still clear, I trust?"
The doctor's question seemed to bring the room's temperature down a good ten degrees. Annie had already gone through a session where they'd mapped the area to be irradiated. At the same time, they'd created a mold she would be fitted into to ensure the radiation was as focused as possible. The mapping had involved literally placing marks on Annie's chest where the radiation should go.
Doctor Francis had recommended that the markings be made permanent through a tattoo process, but Annie had refused. Since the treatments would only last for a month or so, Annie had once again exerted her alpha female instincts and informed the doctor they could mark her with a Sharpie, but not with tattoos.
"I'll have enough permanent reminders of having breast cancer. I don't need a bunch of permanent dots on my chest to add to the list," she'd told me after the session. I couldn't argue with her logic.
Now face-to-face with Doctor Francis again, Annie nodded and smiled. "They are, thank you."
"Let's get to it then. Shall we?" The doctor directed me to the waiting room and Annie to a room where she could get changed.
I was daydreaming about our honeymoon, a Caribbean cruise, w
hen Annie joined me in the waiting area.
"One down, thirty or so to go," she said. "Let's get some lunch. I'm buying."
On the way to the restaurant, I cleared my throat. "So, ah...thanks for what you said to Doctor Francis in there, you know, about when she asked if I ride. That meant a lot."
Annie's cheeks bloomed a shade of magenta. "I'm proud of you and I don't brag about you nearly as often as I should, so when the opportunity presented itself, I took it. The pleasure was mine."
The fact that Annie wanted to brag about me, when she was a world-wide entertainment star, left me at a loss for words. That she loved me, I had no doubt. But it still put an extra spring in my step to hear her talk about me that way.
Over lunch, Annie described the radiation therapy process. The room where she was treated had a table in the middle. Annie's mold was positioned on top of the table. She lay on top of the dense foam mold face up, with her arms above her head.
The radiation apparatus looked similar to one in a dentist's office. A major difference was this one was manipulated remotely by a technician who used a devise that resembled a video game joy stick. The table was raised and lowered to allow the radiation apparatus to rotate around the table and hit Annie with radiation from all sorts of angles.
"So you're radioactive, then," I said, and leaned away from her.
"Hardly. The actual treatment didn't last very long at all. It seemed like I spent more time getting undressed and then dressed again than I actually spent getting radiated." She chuckled. "Let's hope the rest of the treatments are as painless as today's was."
Twenty-Four
Once Annie's radiation treatments began, we shifted into a double countdown mode. Each day that passed was one day closer to finishing her treatment. It was also one day closer to the big W, our wedding day.
I split my days between Cassandra Lawrence Enterprises and the Co-op. The Indy Chapter of Wheels for Women was growing at a steady pace. While it was a fantastic development, it also meant Gloria was spending more time on WfW and less time on Co-op duties.