The Brightness Duet: Complete Series Boxset

by Bri Stone

  “What the hell...” I mutter to myself as I stand up.

  Pacing the room, I wipe my tired eyes and let the stress creep into my shoulders. As if work isn’t enough to keep me tense, now I have no idea what is going on with Thom. He would never ignore me, and if he was mad he would tell me. There is nothing passive aggressive about Thom and that’s how I know something is definitely off, especially with how cryptic Stan was. I mean, what the hell was that? I think again, and wonder if Stan finally told him the truth, and told him I knew already. It just still didn’t seem likely.

  With it being the middle of the week, I know I can’t call Clem for help. Melinda told me she would be in a hip replacement right about now. I have no one to talk to, and I am certain dad is unavailable too. Hell, I thought briefly about calling one of Thom’s old friends just to have a meaningless conversation to pass the time.

  Why isn’t he answering?

  Twenty calls are enough.

  I put my phone in my bedroom and go back to the living room to let a distraction take hold. I wish Thom was here, holding me, and I wasn’t worried about him. If I had the time to go and see him again, I would. But I don’t know if it’s warranted... I don’t know anything.

  I miss it, I crave it. I just miss him.

  I go to sleep wondering how much I really wanted to be a forensic pathologist.

  The answer to that lay in my mother’s grave, six feet underground.

  Chapter Ten: Thom

  “You could defer this semester. It wouldn’t hurt, and maybe you could just spend the time studying for the MCAT in March, then finish next fall. Or even the summer, I’m sure I can help you work something out.”

  I stare at my advisor with cold eyes.

  Not because I’m mad, just super tired. Physically, mentally. I’m exhausted.

  “I don’t know. I want to graduate on time, I can work something out. I already told my professors.”

  She nods. Melly Walters, the pre-med advisor here has been with me for three years. Her youth doesn’t deter people from going to her for advice. Her dirty blonde hair and soft eyes remind me of my mom, but I think everything reminds me of her at this point.

  “Well, I just don’t want your GPA to suffer. It’s at such a good place right now.”

  I nod, “yeah. But I,” there was only one way for her to get it. “My mom really won’t make it past June. She...she needs to see me graduate.” I swallow back the permanent lump in my throat that comes at any mention of my mother.

  I clench my fists inside my jacket pocket and stare down at her pattern printed rug. The silence settles until she clears her throat.

  “Well, then we have to do everything we can to help you graduate on time.”

  With midterms coming up, I keep that at the front of my mind.

  It only took one week for my life to change, for mom’s life to have an immediate expiration date. She has been in the hospital for the ten days since I found her passed out in the shower. I was lucky she wasn’t nose down, or even had half her face down, or she would have drowned regardless of the cancer.

  Cancer.

  That word doesn’t seem to exist until you’re the one experiencing it. I didn’t have it perfect; having no dad and a single mom, working hard for both of us, I thought I was done getting the short end of the stick. I was wrong.

  Her room in the hospital has become a second home. I head there after my classes every day, so it had become my new library.

  “Did you eat today, babe?”

  “Mama,” I sit on the side chair, “you’ve got three IV’s in your arm and you’re asking me if I’ve eaten?” I try and smile for her and it takes every muscle in my face to do so.

  Mom used to be so bright and full of energy, now she sinks into the hospital bed. The white sheets swallow her dry hair, and pale face. Her eyes once bright and full of life are dull, and she already wears a beanie to hide her thinning hair. It hasn’t just been ten days of her here, it’s been two days of intense tests, and then right into chemo therapy. The tumors are everywhere; her lungs, her heart.

  They wondered how it could have been missed and moved quickly to shrink them. They hope to operate next week.

  “Yes, I ate. A little. I haven’t been all that hungry, school is...well, how are you doing?” I really didn’t want to bother her with it. she would worry, and she really doesn’t need any of that right now.

  “Fine, babe. Stan came by earlier.” Her eye twitches, as it always does with the mention of him. I never knew why or noted it to her. “The hospital is going to give me my full retirement package.”

  My knees buckle, even though I’m sitting down. “That...that sounds a lot like you don’t plan to make it through this, Mama.” I catch her gaze.

  “Thom, they said six months.”

  “Doctors say shit all the time, it doesn’t...it’s not set in stone.” I swallow hard.

  “Babe, we have to be realistic.”

  “No, we have to...you’re getting treatment, and then surgery. It will be fine.” I take her hands in mine.

  Why did I never think of the diagnosis this way? I only told Melly, so she would let me finish the semester, I didn’t want it to be true. No way could I only have six months left with her. No way.

  “I don’t know, Thom. I...” she shakes her head, pulling my hands up to hers to kiss.

  I stand and crouch by her side, laying gently on her shoulders as she holds me. I can never be too old for it, and I can never grow out of her comfort.

  So how the hell am I supposed to watch her die?

  I SHOULD WATCH DAYS of our Lives just for old times’ sake. The irony, the devastation...it’s nothing new. So, I wonder why it feels so crippling.

  Because of her.

  Yet another light in my life is going out because of this disease. I watch the texts grow and grow and the calls follow until there is nothing. I know I have to call her.

  Stan walks in to tell me she called him, and I know I have to set things straight. But the last thing I can do is...no.

  “Harrison told me your spot won’t be taken, or anything. Just...get back on your feet if you can. If you want. And it’s early, we can do minimal treatments, so it won’t affect your work.” Stan is all business, stoic.

  I saw this once before six years ago when mom got lung cancer too. He was dejected, and truly hasn’t been himself since. It never clicked to me, or made sense, because I knew they were only friends.

  “You think I can still be in the program? With all this.” I gesture to the IVs in my arm, the exhaustion that is apparent on my body.

  Stan sighs, and manages a small grin as he sits on the edge of the bed. He came straight from the airport, still in the khakis and white dress shirt he wears in the office. “Yeah. We caught it early. The chemo will be minimal, you’ll be...just like before, pretty much. Did you see your scans?”

  I nod. Only briefly, when I hadn’t processed everything yet. It’s small cell, and there are two visible masses on my left lung. There is a good chance chemo will reduce them, and that I won’t need surgery. I came to find later, that with mom...I just couldn’t have that amount of faith.

  “So, you know, it will be fine. And this is stage one, you’re sitting at a sixty to eighty percent survival rate. It isn’t identical to Alice’s, but the similarity with the asthma is there. Only difference is when we caught it.”

  With exhaustion and irritation, I rub my face and sit up fully in the bed. I want to get up and walk around, hell I just want to be out of this hospital bed.

  “Have you told Perrie?”

  Disappointment clouds over me. as I shake my head, I tsk my jaw and hold back nothing but tears. All I want to do is cry—for her, for how unfair this is. She doesn’t deserve this. How shitty is it, that the one thing she is afraid of, and why she kept me away for so long, has come to fruition? It’s nothing but crappy. For her. For me. For us.

  I stare back at Stan, with his wise eyes hiding his true emotions. How must he
feel? With the same thing happening to me, that happened to my mom. If it ends the same way...

  “No. I don’t think I can or will.”

  Chapter Eleven: Thom

  “Thom...”

  I absorb the softness of her voice. The ease and stability of it, even after a time like this. I only understood then why Perrie would sometimes decide to evade talking to me, until she figured things out in her head. I had figured it out. While I wasn’t sure if it was something I was sure of, it was what I decided.

  “Perrier, baby. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you.”

  I’m out of the hospital now, well, the bed.

  I took one day off, and being Monday, it was the right time to get back to work. The other residents had no idea, only Harrison. He definitely didn’t take it easy on me, even still. But today was laid back, in terms of my work load. Maci and I assisted on a valve replacement, did our rounds, and then stuck around for a little bit with the others. Once I got home, I called Perrie immediately on Skype.

  “I...are you okay? I was worried.”

  “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” I sigh and sink into the couch. Donning sweatpants and nothing else, I let the television fill the white space in the background.

  “I’m not. Just worried and concerned. I mean, the worst scenarios were going through my head...”

  “I’m sorry.” I look right in her eyes, knowing the question is coming and still hoping she just won’t ask. I’m still distracted by her sheer beauty, the easy transparency of her.

  Perrie has on this pale pink sweater that hangs off her shoulder. Her chest is fuller, so the skin on her shoulder looks even more touchable...as if that makes anything easier. The pink color makes her look like a cotton candy drop.

  “I wanted to come and see you, but I didn’t know if you wanted that. And then work really picked up, it’s still really busy right now.” Combing her fingers through her hair, she cocks her head to the side and peers at me.

  She is also biting her bottom lip, so I know she is nervous or worried. Probably both.

  “Are things okay?” I ask her.

  I set the lap top on the coffee table and lean forward on my knees. Her eyes draw up my body before meeting my face.

  “Yeah. Great. Sandy is starting to give me a little more freedom, well, as much as he can. I really feel like with him, I’ll be good for the certification year.”

  I nod in understanding. She has one extra year than I do, for the certification.

  “Good, I’m glad for you. I assisted on my first double transplant the week before last,” I chew my inner cheek to keep from saying anything else.

  “Really?” Her eyes light up, but her lips twitch with the question.

  I clear my throat. “Yeah, it was amazing.” Before I passed out.

  “That’s exciting...when—why did you not call me back all those times?”

  Silence wins for a moment. “It was just so soon after your letter, that I thought we weren’t okay. I didn’t know what to do. I even called Stan.” She manages a soft laugh.

  I nod and hang my head for a moment, suddenly intrigued by the plain black rug under my bare feet.

  “We are okay, we always will be.” I catch her gaze. “I was feeling down, I guess I needed space. I didn’t want you to worry about me, and maybe it wasn’t the best way...I hope I didn’t do you too wrong, Sparks.” I lick my lips and give her a crooked smile.

  “No, it’s nothing like what I did to you a few times last year,” she sighs, “I guess if you need space, I’d rather you tell me. I need to be more honest, so maybe we can both just be honest. Especially being so far away, it’s different.” She swallows and then sips from a drink I didn’t see before. I don’t have to see it to know it’s probably a chai tea latte.

  “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I know. It’s okay...”

  “You look cute.” I chuckle.

  “Cute?” She giggles softly. I miss hearing that sound right next to me. Against my ear, or my skin. I just miss her. Her scent, her taste, her warmth.

  This year has been a complete mind fuck. Of learning to live without her after four years of seeing her every day. Then her insecurities about the relationship and needing more honesty from her. And then of course, finding that rhythm between us of being apart. Figuring out when to call and text, when to be super fucked up about it or just dealing with it.

  We were okay until this.

  Until I got fucking cancer. A disease I refuse to share with her, because even with asthma, watching my mom fight this was not pretty, and it changed me forever. Perrie was, somehow, darkly lucky to not watch her mother die. To not wake up every morning ticking something off a calendar, days her mother had left.

  Her mother died in her sleep and mine died every day.

  It’s nothing I ever dwell on and it is nothing important, but I’ll be damned if I let Perrie watch me die every day. I haven’t figured everything out, because there is no outline for this. But I know for now, she can’t know.

  “Yes. Cute, with the sweater. Or sexy. Way too sexy for the camera.” We laugh together.

  “I was about to go out.”

  “Go out?” I arch my brow, “really?”

  “Yeah, just with this guy.” She makes a face.

  “What guy?” I don’t even feel insecure, because I see a joke in her eyes. But still, of course I want to know what guy.

  “Sandy. He’s totally married, but he told me he has something exciting to tell me. I don’t know, he’s super cryptic sometimes. So, I just threw this on, Melinda actually gave it to me.” Perrie looks down and adjusts the top. I’m distracted by the swells of her breasts as she crosses her arms.

  She is also wearing the love knot necklace I got her for her birthday, it seems like years ago when I did.

  “Hmm. Tell me how it goes. But it looks really nice on you.” I clear my throat, definite thoughts of desire taking over. It’s looking like one of the ‘jack off to thoughts of Perrie’ nights.

  “I don’t know. I’ve gotten bigger since I saw you last year, and I was a little bigger then too.” Her eyes turn down as she slouches. It kills me how she feels about it.

  “You look amazing, baby. I can’t even tell. And if I could, I wouldn’t care.”

  “Ugh. You have to say that.” She manages a slight laugh.

  “No, I don’t. But I do mean it.”

  “Yeah...I don’t even eat all that much.”

  “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

  She makes a face and shows me her stomach. “I would know.”

  “It could be growing in your back or something.”

  She laughs, “well, I actually took a few tests when I thought...but I’m not. Just gaining good ‘ol weight.”

  “You look good. Super good. Oh, Stan got me tickets to come see you, for your birthday.” It’s only May, so that seems ages away.

  Her eyes light up and she smiles, so beautifully. “Oh my gosh, really?” She scratches her nose and leans forward.

  “Yeah, really. I’ll get there Thursday morning. I already took off for Friday and then I won’t leave until Sunday night.” I tell her.

  “Wow, I’m so excited. Fuck, it’s so long from now...”

  she glances at the clock.

  “You have to go?” I ask her.

  “Yeah. I’ll text you if I don’t get back too late.”

  “Sounds good. I love you baby.” I wink at her.

  “I love you too.” She smiles her bright, breathtaking smile before hanging up.

  It rings in my head, for hours, and I am not only reminded, but reassured on as to why I couldn’t tell her about my diagnosis. Not then, and maybe not ever.

  Chapter Twelve: Thom

  Moving into July marked the end of year two.

  How could it have been that long?

  I suppose the last few weeks flew by because of the treatment, but it has still been a fast ride. Just yesterday, it seems like I left. N
ow, I’m moving into year three. Specialties get confirmed, I mean, shit gets really real.

  I didn’t want to be foolish in thinking I could actually keep this up. Chemo isn’t bad, but it is rough for a few hours after. So, I do it at night when my shift ends and it’s once a week at this point, so it doesn’t rough me too much. We took a scan last week at four weeks since the first one, the tumors are the same size.

  They kept saying, ‘at least it didn’t get bigger.’ Walters insists we are on the right track and I try to trust him. it is his job after all. But it is hard, to put everything I went through with my mom in the back of my head and focus on myself. All I want to do is fly out and go see her. Or drive. I need some miles on my Jeep. But I can’t. I almost feel like I let her down.

  At the end of the work day, when I evade my friends and make it home, I call Perrie. We actually hadn’t been able to have a long conversation since the night she went to dinner with her boss, whatever he had to tell her had been keeping her busy.

  We still text and keep up with little things.

  “Hey, I’m actually in the middle of a tops. I’ll call you back.”

  “Okay, love you. Bye.”

  “Love you.” She hangs up.

  My body is practically singing, but I can’t keep things weird, as much as I can. The chemo doesn’t cripple me, because it’s basically at the lowest dose. I should enjoy what I have before they increase it next week. After that, if it doesn’t work, Walters wants to be aggressive and hit me hard with it to shrink them. I just don’t want to miss out on the program, it’s all I have here besides Perrie. If I don’t have it, then what would I be doing here? I would of course go be with Perrie, but that would mean telling her the truth. Can’t do that. And I can’t let my mother down.

  I put on running gear but go for a walk, just around the neighborhood. I have music playing in my earbuds, an old song from Imagine Dragons. When I’m walking back, Stan calls me. I stop in a convenience store for a Powerade.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” He asks immediately.