As I watched her breathe into the wee hours of the morning, the fragility of life hit me like a plane going down. How fast and suddenly it could be taken away. Though she’d pulled through the operation, there was one big unanswered question. I tried to force it to the back of mind, but it weighed on my heart until sleep finally took hold of me.
Her hallucinatory screams catapulted me back to the moment. I was expecting to awaken to my sleeping beauty. Not this. She continued to twist and turn. I caressed her tortured face as she feverishly shook it side to side.
“Jen, Jen, it’s me. It’s okay. I’m here. Do you hear me?” I tried to sound calm but inside panic gripped me. With my free hand, I pushed the call button for a nurse or doctor.
I continued to say her name, my voice desperate, and stroke her hair. Finally, her eyes fluttered opened and met mine. Oh, those beautiful green orbs! I was so happy to see them. She calmed, but a mixture of terror and confusion was still etched deep on her face.
“Blake,” she whispered, her voice a mere rasp. “Where am I? What happened?”
It was so good to hear her voice as faint as it was. It took all I had not to shed a tear. I tenderly kissed her warm forehead, my lips on fire from the mere touch of her flesh. I gazed at her lovingly and reverently. Her bewildered eyes stayed fixed on mine.
“Tiger, you’re at Cedars. You were hemorrhaging. You had to have an operation.”
“Surgery?” Fear flickered in her eyes.
I nodded.
“What did they do?” Her voice was so small.
My heart was splintering. Should I tell her? My father always said the truth is the best medicine. I swallowed hard.
“Jen, baby, you had a partial hysterectomy.”
Her eyes blinked several times. “Meaning what?”
I chewed my lip. I fucking didn’t want to tell her. “Meaning they found a mass on your uterus and had to remove part of it along with one of your ovaries.”
Silence. I was expecting tears, but none materialized.
“Does that mean I can’t have babies?”
My lips pressed together in a thin dismal line. “I don’t know.” While I knew how much my tiger wanted to give me a den full of little cubs, I’d always love her whether we had children or not. And that wasn’t what was eating at my heart. She read my anxious face.
“Do I have cancer?” Her tiny voice was stoic. Oh, my brave tiger.
My heart was shredding. I was so close to shedding tears. “I don’t know. They’re doing a biopsy. The results should be back in the afternoon.”
“Okay,” she murmured.
No, it was so not fucking okay. What had I done wrong to deserve this fate? It shouldn’t have been her. My angel. No way.
Sparing me from saying another word, a nurse walked into the room. Petite, she looked Filipino and was wearing a cheery pink smock.
“Ah!” she said brightly. “You’re awake, Ms. McCoy.”
Ms. McCoy. My heart stuttered. Damn it. She was supposed to be Mrs. Burns this morning. And I was supposed to be fucking her brains out on our honeymoon though right now that didn’t matter. My tiger was alive. And that’s all that counted.
Without wasting a second, the nurse, whose name was Wanda, plunged one of those high-tech thermometers into her ear, took her pulse, and checked her charts. I held my breath.
“She has a slight fever; nothing to be alarmed about. All her other vitals seem normal.”
I blew out a sharp breath of relief. Now, if only her biopsy came back normal. I silently prayed to God.
“I’d like to sponge her down,” said the sweet nurse, cranking up her bed so my tiger was in a semi-sitting position. Her locks of hair curled like ribbons along the pillow.
“May I do that?” I implored while she ambled to the bathroom.
“I don’t see why not,” she replied, a slight chuckle in her accented voice.
She returned from the lavatory with a wet washcloth in her hand. She handed it to me. “Here you go,” she said with a smile. “Just be careful around her incision. I’ll be back soon with something for Ms. McCoy to eat.”
I thanked the sweet nurse and began to wash my tiger, beginning with her face. Gently, I traced the warm wet cloth around it. She closed her eyes.
“Are you okay, baby?”
She replied with a weak nod.
“Do you hurt?”
“Just a little. But I feel so weak and nauseous.”
The pain meds were doing their job, but I was concerned about her queasiness.
“You lost a lot of blood. Marcy had to give you a transfusion.”
As I made my way down her slender arms, she blinked open her eyes. “Marcy?”
“Yeah. My sister was the surgeon. She’s the best there is. She saved your life.”
A small smile curled on her lips. The first since she’d regained consciousness. “Blake, I need to thank her.”
I smiled back at her. “I’m sure she’ll be here shortly.”
I lowered her thin blanket down to her ankles. She looked so thin. So frail. Gingerly, I lifted her hospital gown, and for the first time, I saw where the incision was. A large thick bandage covered the area—just below her abdomen. My tiger’s beautiful breasts quivered. She managed to take a peek.
“Guess I won’t be wearing a bikini again.”
I laughed. Only my tiger could make me do that when I wanted to fucking cry.
“I hear one-pieces are ‘in’ this year. And truthfully, tiger, I’d rather see you wearing nothing.”
She squeezed my free hand. “Oh, Blake. I love you so much.” And then the floodgates broke loose. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Baby, what’s the matter?” Panic gripped me by my balls.
“Oh, Blake, what if I have cancer? I don’t want to leave you.”
I dabbed her tears away with the cloth. “Stop it, baby. You’re a tiger. You’re going to get through this.” I paused. “We’re going to get through this, do you understand?”
Thank fucking God, I had some acting skills. On the outside, I stayed calm, but inside I was cracking. I felt so fucking powerless. I was that man who was supposed to protect her and save her from the evils of the world, but this time, her superhero couldn’t save her from the uncontrollable and unknown.
She nodded, the tears still falling. And then she smiled again, this time, a real smile, and held my gaze in hers. With her hand, she traced the outline of my jaw.
“Happy Birthday, Blake.”
Balls. I’d totally forgotten it was my thirtieth birthday. And then I remembered what I’d wanted. It was plain and simple. I’d wanted to wake up to my wife. Start the next decade of my life with the girl I loved with my heart, my body, and my soul.
Damn it, I was going to make that happen. So, my bride was wearing a hospital gown instead of a wedding gown, but right now that was the most beautiful dress in the world. I lowered my lips to hers and let her know how much I loved her. Weak as she was, she didn’t resist. She cradled my head between her hands, her hot tears warming my face. Warming every part of me. Today, Jennifer McCoy was going to become Jennifer Burns.
Chapter 21
Jennifer
Calamity Jen.
That’s what Libby often called me. Aptly.
My wedding had been the biggest calamity of my life. A disaster. I’d totally fucked it up. Let down my future husband. His parents. My parents. And over a thousand guests.
“I’m sorry I screwed everything up,” I sniffled as I forced myself to break away from Blake’s passionate kiss.
Blake gently brushed away my tears. “Stop it, tiger. It’s not your fault.”
“But all those people…all that money your parents spent…”
“Fuck the money, baby. My parents won’t miss it. And except for our families and close friends, those people mean nothing to me. Or to us.”
The bubbly nurse, who’d returned, made me drink some water. Blake held the cup as I sipped it through a straw. The co
ol liquid felt good against my parched palate and raw throat. Then another cheerful hospital attendant pranced into the room with a breakfast tray. A light meal of scrambled eggs, toast, and juice.
“Eat,” Blake ordered, sitting on the edge of my bed.
With my fatigue, nausea, and the results of the biopsy weighing on my heart, I had no appetite, but I took a few bites to make Blake happy. I’d much rather be holding his hand than a fork.
My eyes grew heavy. Blake ruffled my hair and gave me a light kiss on my forehead. “Baby, rest. I’m not going anywhere.” A faint smile spread on my lips as I closed my eyes.
I don’t know how long I’d been out when my eyes blinked open. Blake was still there seated beside me. But standing beside him was a tall, lanky long-haired young man with warm twinkly eyes who bore a striking resemblance to Jesus. He was clad in a long white robe with a notched high collar and holding a pamphlet in one hand. A priest? Nurse Wanda was in the room too. My blood ran cold and my heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Cancer. Was he here to read me my last rites?
“Blake, are we saying goodbye?” I stammered.
That dazzling mischievous smile I loved so much lit up his face. “No, baby, we’re saying our vows.”
My heart continued to beat in a frenzy while he introduced us. Reverend Dooby was a newly ordained Universal Life Church minister. We were all God’s children. A shocking but beautiful reality swept over me like a warm summer shower. We were getting married.
In my drugged-out haze, the reverend’s laid-back voice drifted in my ears like a magic carpet. It was some New Age ceremony with words like love, peace, and harmony abounding. Blake held my hand, his eyes never leaving me.
The reverend came to the end of his pamphlet. “Do you, Blake Burns, take this beautiful babe to be your wife?”
“I do.” Blake smiled.
“And do you, Jennifer McCoy, take this handsome dude to be your husband?”
“I do,” I whispered, my eyes watering. So much for Shakespeare.
Reverend Dooby closed his pamphlet. “Yo, bro, it’s ring time.”
My eyes stayed glued on Blake as he dipped a hand into a side pocket of his tuxedo pants. To my utter surprise, two SpongeBob Band-Aids appeared. He looked at me sheepishly.
“Sorry, baby. Borrowed these from the children’s ward. Marcy’s twins still have our rings so they’ll have to do for now.”
Oh my Blake! My smiling lips quivered as he handed me one. Then, he gently lifted my left hand, which fortunately wasn’t hooked up to IVs. A tear rolled down my cheek as he wrapped the Band-Aid around my ring finger just above my magnificent engagement ring. The brilliant snowflake diamond sparkled in the ray of sunshine that beamed through the curtains.
It was my turn. My hands trembling, I copied his actions and wrapped the other Band-Aid around his left fourth finger. With a cheek to cheek grin, he admired my handiwork.
Reverend Dooby’s voice echoed in my ears. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
We were married! Blake gently drew me close to him. His mouth pressed on mine in a passionate embrace I wanted never to end. Our tongues danced and our bodies melted into one. We had just vowed to spend the rest of our lives together…to cherish each other until death do us part. I felt no pain as my fear succumbed to everlasting love.
The sobs of Nurse Wanda brought me back to the moment. “I’m sorry. I always cry at weddings. But this one is so special.” Her tears were contagious. I was crying too.
Breaking the eternal kiss, I held my new husband’s breathtaking face in my hands.
His eyes bore into mine “Mrs. Burns, thank you for the best birthday present ever.”
“Oh, Blake, how can I ever top it?”
“By asking me the same question next year.”
Chapter 22
Blake
The McCoys showed up a couple of hours after our nuptials. Nurse Wanda was back in the room, taking Jen’s temperature.
“Good news, Mrs. Burns, your temperature is back to normal.”
Mrs. Burns. Man, I loved those two words. And hoped I’d be hearing them for the rest of my life. Jen’s prognosis was still gnawing away at me. My stomach was twisted in a knot.
Jen smiled sheepishly at her parents. “Mom, Dad…Blake and I have something to tell you.” She shot me a look asking for a go-ahead. I nodded. Mrs. McCoy bit her lip, expecting bad news. My tiger continued.
“Um…uh…we got married this morning.” She proudly held up her hand to show off her marriage “band”-Aid. I proudly did the same.
A warm smile spread across Harold’s face while his wife exploded into tears.
Jen furrowed her brows. “Oh, Mom. Are you mad at me?”
Jen’s mother reached into her small handbag for a lacy hankie. Dabbing at her tears, she rushed to Jen’s bed and hugged her. “Oh, honey, your dad and I are so happy for the both of you. We love you so much.”
A dazzling smile flashed on Jen’s face. “I love you both so much too.”
Mr. McCoy shook my hand. “Welcome to the family, son.”
About an hour later, Libby and Chaz showed up while her parents were grabbing a bite to eat at the hospital cafeteria. Thrilled to hear about our marriage, they brightened Jen’s spirits and kept her distracted. Especially Chaz, who made Jen laugh so hard it hurt. While waiting at the head of the long valet line for his car after the wedding fiasco, Kat had cut in front of him. He did what he’d always wanted to do. He slapped the rude psycho bitch. Way to go, my man!
Feeling a little stronger, Jen told us about the catfight between my mother and Kat’s. Man, I would have given my left foot to see my mother kick Enid’s ass. And score one for my tiger for almost knocking the bitch out. Despite my gloom, I laughed my ass off with Jen’s best friends. I had a newfound respect for my mother, the warrior.
Libby and Chaz spent a half hour with us. Shortly after they left, the McCoys returned to the room, and my parents and Grandma showed up. Jen and I shared the news about our marriage with my family. They were thrilled, especially Grandma who exclaimed,“Zei gezunt. So vhen are you going to make me some beautiful grandchildren?”
My heart skittered. From her lips to God’s ears.
My mother pecked my cheek. “Congratulations, darling. And happy birthday. I brought along the perfect cake to celebrate.”
Only my mother would think about my birthday at a time like this. Before I could say another word, in walked two burly hospital attendants, wheeling in our twenty-layer ocean-themed wedding cake—complete with multi-colored macaroon shellfish dotting the pearl-white frosting. For sure, thirty candles were lit among the many layers. I mentally rolled my eyes. But I had to love her.
“Following Meg’s excellent suggestion, we took the rest of the reception food to a homeless shelter. But we decided to keep the cake. Whatever’s not eaten, we’ll give to the hospital staff.”
My mother and Jen’s exchanged warm smiles. My mother meant well. She cared about people. She cared about me.
“Now, darling boy, make a wish and blow out the candles.”
“Candles shmandles. Such a vaste of time,” growled Grandma as I prepared to do the honors.
There was only one wish to make. You know it. Drawing in a deep breath, I blew out the candles. All thirty with my pursed mouth and puffed out cheeks.
Together, Jen and I sliced the first piece of cake, my strong hand cupping her limp one. My birthday cake was our wedding cake and vice versa. In wedding tradition, we fed each other a mouthful and moaned.
I thought about my wish. Oh baby, stay with me.
The minutes crawled by. Every hour felt like an eternity. Jen dozed on and off while we anxiously awaited the biopsy report. I was on pins and needles. Every fifteen minutes, I texted my sister who texted back with the same two words: No news. Let me tell you, patience was not one of my virtues.
Finally at five p.m., a little after Jen awoke from a nap, Marcy ambled into
the room. It now resembled a florist’s shop with all the beautiful fragrant flowers sent over by friends of my parents. Clad in a white lab coat, she was holding a clipboard with some papers attached to it. I couldn’t read her expression—it was a total poker face. My stomach clenched. She glanced down at the charts.
“I’m afraid…”
Oh, fuck. God, no! My racing heart was about to beat out of my chest.
“…Jennifer is going to be stuck with my brother for a very long time.”
It took me a second to deconstruct her words. And when I heard her utter the magic word “benign,” I swear my cock did a happy dance.
In my haze of over-the-top happiness, I could hear Jen’s mother weeping, “Thank you, good Lord. Thank you.”
I rushed to my tiger’s side. I took her into my arms. “Did you hear that, baby? You’re going to be okay.”
Her glistening eyes searched mine. “Blake, why are you crying?”
Balls. Blake A-for-Alpha Burns was an emotional car wreck. I’d held back tears of sorrow, but I couldn’t hold back tears of joy.
She kissed away my tears. Whoever said real men don’t cry needed to have their fucking head examined.
Chapter 23
Blake
My tiger was released from the hospital on Christmas Day. It was the best Christmas present I could have gotten. While she was frail, she was home and on the road to recovery. And we were husband and wife. We were now wearing our matching platinum wedding bands. Marcy had brought them to the hospital. They were both inscribed with one word: “Forever.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Burns,” said the cheerful doorman as I helped my slow-moving but radiant wife into our building. “Surprised to see you back from your honeymoon so soon.”
“A little change in plans,” I replied. Jen giggled.
THAT MAN: The Wedding Story Page 22