Dirty Maverick (The Maxwell Family)

by Alycia Taylor

  He looked like he was processing that. I knew from experience that most people our age didn’t know much about cancer. Most of them thought cancer meant death. I don’t expect our friendship to be the same now. At first, he’ll be super nice, asking if there’s anything he can do for me or anything I need. Then he’ll just stop calling so much, or coming around so often. When he did call, or we got together, conversation would be awkward and stilted, because he would be hesitant to talk about things that he was afraid I might not be able to do because of my dreaded cancer. I had seen it all before. So far, Grandma and Megan were the only ones that it hadn’t affected that way.

  “Is the new chemo working?” he asked. I was surprised at his use of the word chemo. I had just told him we were trying new meds. Usually, people unfamiliar with cancer only call it chemo when you go to the hospital and get an IV. Maybe he was close to someone who’d had cancer. Sometimes that can be worse. I went to high school with a guy whose father ended up dying from bladder cancer. I know he wasn’t trying to upset me, but he used to tell me every detail of his dad’s treatments and surgeries, right up to his father’s death. That’s just not exactly what a chick with cancer wants to hear.

  “I guess…” I lied. “When did you say my grandmother is coming back?”

  I hate this. Things with Brock, other than the whole awkward kiss thing had been so normal.

  “She should be back soon,” he said again. “Do you not want to talk about this? Your cancer?”

  “No,” I told him, “I really don’t.”

  “Okay, then we won’t. How about a song? Anything you want to hear?”

  “You pick,” I told him.

  Then I closed my eyes and within seconds he was singing to me:

  “Her eyes, her eyes, they make the stars look like they’re not shining. Her hair, her hair, falls perfectly without her trying. I know, I know when I compliment her she won’t believe me…..”

  Bruno Mars. Damn this guy is good.

  “Cause you’re amazing just the way you are.”

  I wanted to cry but I didn’t want him to see me. I had to wonder if he really felt that way about me. Did he really think I was that beautiful? Would he still think so if I had to go through harsher chemo and I lost my hair again? What about when I’m puking in that pretty pink bucket; would I still be amazing? I opened my eyes as he finished the song. He was looking at me intently again. I didn’t like that. I preferred the amused look.

  “That was pretty, thank you,” I told him.

  “You’re pretty,” he said. It was so hard to breathe when he was in the room. Grandma came back then, thank God.

  Brock jumped out of the chair and Grandma said, “You don’t have to get up. I heard you singing when I got off the elevator. You have a beautiful voice.”

  He blushed. He actually turned red. It was so damned cute.

  “Thank you,” he told her. He looked back at me, and I had the feeling that he wanted me to tell him to stay. I didn’t want him to though. The blood was almost empty, and the nurses would be in soon, and Dr. Harris would be back. I moved my leg and felt the catheter. Oh God, I have a tube in my bladder and the hottest guy in the world is standing here looking at me.

  “It was beautiful, Brock. Thank you. Hi, Grandma.” She had two big bags of stuff. “What’s in the bags?” I asked her.

  “I just got you some things you might need. A couple of nightgowns, a robe and some slippers…toiletries…”

  “Grandma, I have all of that stuff in my dorm room. It’s five minutes away and Megan would have brought it to me. You shouldn’t spend more money on me.”

  “It’s my money,” my grandmother said, “I’ll spend it how I like.” I could see Brock grinning out of the corner of my eye. I wondered again what they had talked about when I was sleeping. My IV pump started beeping then. We all looked at the same time.

  “It’s empty,” Brock said. “I’ll get the nurse.”

  When he left the room my grandmother said, “He’s a nice boy.”

  “Yeah, he is,” I said. “Grandma when the nurses come back in, I don’t want Brock to be here, okay? Will you please ask him to go?”

  My grandmother laughed. “Me?” she said. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

  “Have you seen those blue eyes?” I asked her. “I can hardly remember my own name around him sometimes. Please Grandma.”

  She shook her head at me, but I knew she would do it. She went out into the hall, and when Brock came back in he said that he had to get going.

  “Do you need me to go by your dorm and get anything for you?” he asked.

  “I’m alright,” I told him. “Grandma bought me everything I needed I’m sure. Thank you for being here Brock, and for the song.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “You’ll call me if you need anything…right? Even some company?”

  “Yes,” I lied again. “Bye.”

  He said bye, and as I watched him go, my heart physically ached.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brock

  My head was reeling as I walked back out to my bike. I woke up this morning with the most beautiful girl in the world in my arms, on top of the world. Now suddenly, I find out that she has the same affliction as me…kind of. How did I not know? I guess the answer to that is as simple as how she doesn’t know about me; she didn’t want me to know. Probably, I’m sure for the same reasons that I didn’t want to tell her about my own cancer. It just gets weird for people, and new relationships are the worst.

  I drove home in a haze. I wondered if she was telling me the truth, and she was just dehydrated. What if she was dying? For a second, I couldn’t breathe. I can’t think about that. I’m being ridiculous anyways. She’s not eighty-two pounds; she’s not on oxygen or a respirator. She’s like me, a young person who is LIVING with cancer. I’m sure she’ll be fine.

  I found Jake on the couch where I left him, only now he had pants on at least and he was watching a movie instead of playing his video game. He looked at me…strangely when I came in.

  “What’s up?” I asked him.

  “Nothing, why?” he said, in a guilty tone.

  “Because you’re acting weird,” I told him.

  “That’s just how I act,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. There was something he wanted to tell me. I’ve known this guy since he was seven years old. “Jake, just tell me whatever you’re hiding. Are you gay man? Because I’ll still love you.”

  “Shut up!” he said, and then he reached over and punched me in the arm.

  “Ouch,” I said, “that hurt.”

  “What about the gay comment?” he said.

  “I was just guessing things. You want to tell me something, I can tell.”

  “Have you talked to Molly today?” I’ll be damned. The little sneak knew.

  “No, why?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Just curious,” he said. “Are you guys hanging out tonight?”

  “No, I think I’m going to my support group tonight,” I told him. I went to a support group at the hospital a few times a month. It always helped to hear that other people are going through the same shit you are somehow.

  “Oh,” Jake said. He was dying to tell me.

  “Where’s Megan today?” I asked.

  “She came by earlier,” he said. She had some things to do.”

  “Oh, did she mention Molly?” Now let’s see him try to get out of that one.

  “Um…I don’t remember,” he said.

  “You are a horrible liar,” I finally told him. “You just shouldn’t even do it; you’re so bad at it.”

  “What? I’m not lying. I don’t remember.” His face was flushing as red as his hair now.

  “I know that Molly’s in the hospital,” I told him. He looked like he let out a big breath he’d been holding and he said, “Oh, that’s good man. I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to tell you…I didn’t want Megan to get mad…But I thought you should know. Did Molly
call you? Is she okay?”

  “I was there, remember? I went to play music for the patients.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  The truth was probably that he was so into his game this morning he hardly noticed I left, much less heard me say where I was going.

  “I thought you played for the cancer people though. Meg said that Molly was dehydrated….Oh my God! Does Molly have cancer too?”

  Shit! He didn’t know…about that, anyways. I should have known. Megan is too good of a friend to tell him something that personal if Molly didn’t want her to.

  “She’s dehydrated like Megan said,” I told him. “Sometimes I play in the ER and on the medical floor too.” I didn’t lie, she is dehydrated and I do play for other sections of the hospital…sometimes.

  “Oh, good,” he said. We make fun of Jake, but he’s really not stupid. He’s just a guy, and sometimes all that testosterone gets in the way of the neurotransmitters. I think Jake has figured it out, but I’m not going to be the one to tell him about Molly. Her grandmother was right. If Molly wanted someone to know, that was her business.

  “Wanna get beat at some Grand Theft Auto before I go?” I asked him. There were three things that could take Jake’s mind off of anything food, Megan and video games.

  When I went to my support group that night, I walked by the cancer unit, knowing she was there and I swear my legs took on a mind of their own. I started to push on the double doors that led down the hall to where her room was. I remembered that I was going to let her do this on her terms though. I forced myself to go straight instead. Maybe one day she can go to the group with me. Maybe it was fate that we met…and we could help each other through this.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Molly

  The sun was going down on my second day in the hospital, and Dr. Harris hadn’t even been in yet to see me today. I was getting restless to say the least. I was currently pacing the room, dragging the IV pole back and forth with me.

  Grandma sat calmly in the corner on her laptop, not even looking up at me. I wanted to have a tantrum like a two-year-old, just to get her, or the doctor, or both to listen to me. I needed to get out of here.

  “Grandma, please go ask them if Dr. Harris is coming tonight.” She looked up at me over the bifocal part of her glasses and said, “I already did, Molly, half an hour ago. The nurse said that he had an emergency to tend to and then he would be here. I told you all of this dear. Asking again is not going to change the answer.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly feeling like the biggest whiner on the planet. “I just need to get out of here.”

  Grandma put the laptop down and patted the seat next to her.

  “Sit, Molly.”

  I did as I was told. After eighteen years, I knew when she meant business.

  “I know you’re restless, and you’re missing school and your friends…who by the way I’m sure would love to visit you…”

  “Megan was here earlier,” I told her, as if she wasn’t here when Megan had come by.

  “What about the boy, what was his name? Brock?” She knew darn good and well what his name was.

  “He’s been busy with school and stuff,” I lied. He had left me four voicemails and texted me at least a half dozen times. I texted him back…once. I told him I would see him when I got discharged. I didn’t want to see him here. This place would only taint our friendship. I know this…from experience.

  Grandma raised a perfectly plucked gray eyebrow. She was no fool, and she knew I was fibbing. She let it go, however and a few minutes later, Dr. Harris came in.

  “How are you feeling today Molly?” he asked in that always-chipper voice. I’d be chipper too if I was a doctor and I made a bazillion dollars a year keeping people imprisoned in hospitals.

  “I’m feeling great, Dr. Harris. Can I go home now?”

  “I wanted to wait until the results of the MRI came back, and they have.”

  “Good,” I said, the first time I had been hopeful all day. “Then I can go?”

  “Molly, I have a few concerns about the MRI. I want to get another one from a few different angles.”

  I swear it was the closest I had ever coming to screaming like a mad woman at the top of my lungs.

  “Okay,” I said, trying to tamp down the scream and stay calm. “Let’s do it.”

  “We can’t do it tonight. Radiology is already closed except for emergencies. I’ve got you scheduled for first thing in the morning.”

  “This is an emergency Dr. Harris. If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to lose my mind. That’s an emergency, wouldn’t you say?” I was on my feet again. The restless energy pent up inside me was pressing against every nerve in my body.

  “Molly, sit down please,”he said it in his “keep the crazy person calm” voice. I looked at Grandma and she nodded. I sat down. “Molly,” he said, “you have one kidney. If it is not functioning properly, sending you home could be dangerous. Let us get this MRI tomorrow morning, okay? If I discharge you, we’ll have to do it outpatient and that will take longer.”

  “And what then, Dr. Harris. If it’s not working do I stay here…forever?”

  “No, I promise, barring some kind of unforeseen problems I will discharge you tomorrow. I will at least know what we need to do after the MRI, and we’ll go on from there…outpatient, as long as you do well.”

  I looked at Grandma who nodded again. Some wingman she was. She was supposed to be dancing with the ugly doctor so I can slip out. “Okay, I’ll stay until after the MRI, then I blow this joint.”

  He smiled. He was not the least bit ugly, I was just being pissy. I actually liked him a lot. I just wanted to go home. “One more thing…”

  “Uh-uh,” I said. “We already made our deal.”

  He smiled again and waited for me to finish and then he said, “I know we talked about this before, and you said no because you’re afraid your peers will find out about your illness, but I think the support group we have here on Sunday and Wednesday afternoons could really help you.”

  “You’re right, we talked about it before, and I have to stand firm on my earlier decision.” I wasn’t going to some support group with a bunch of people I would then run into on campus or in one of my classes. It was not going to happen. I didn’t want to talk about this anyways.

  “I can’t force you, Molly. But please at least tell me you’ll think about it. You could go tomorrow afternoon before you leave here.”

  “I thought I was leaving tomorrow morning?” I had caught him in a web of lies. Okay, it was only one lie, but it was a whopper.

  “We agreed after the results of the MRI. That will probably not happen until early afternoon.”

  “Dr. Harris…”

  “Molly,” he said, standing up. “Just think about it, okay?” I was mad again. I could feel the heat of Grandma’s stare however so I said, “Okay.”

  My grandmother then thanked the man. If I was rich, I’d cut her right out of the will.

  The next morning I had another text from Brock. It simply said:

  Thinking of you and hoping you’re well. Missing you, Molly.

  I took a deep breath and I texted him back.

  I’m doing fine, thank you. Will hopefully get sprung later today

  I didn’t say miss you too, although I did. I hadn’t passed an hour here without thinking about him. I wondered what he was doing, and even if he was thinking about me. I thought about him singing to me, and it made me smile. I remembered dancing in the rain, and that made me want to cry. I miss you too, Brock. I’m just too much of a coward to say so.

  The nurse and the radiology tech came to get me at ten for my MRI. Let me just say here that I despise that machine. If you’ve never been inside of one just imagine it for a second. You’re lying inside of a metal tube, kind of like a huge, old metal garbage can. It’s freezing, and your ass is hanging out of the gown they give you to wear, only adding to the draft. Then someone with a penchant for torture takes a ham
mer and they start to bang on the tube. That goes on for hours sometimes and the whole while they’re yelling at you not to move. That’s the process in a nutshell.

  Two hours and one tension headache and a lower backache later, I was back in my hospital room. Now Grandma and I sat and waited for Dr. Harris. While we waited she said, “Molly, did you think about what Dr. Harris said, about the support group?”

  “Grandma, you know how I feel about all that.”

  “Yes, I do. I also know that you need to talk about this. You don’t talk to me about it, and I doubt you talk much about it to Megan since everything is so secretive. These people are the same as you, baby. They’re not going to go telling tales any more than you are about them.”

  “I really just don’t want to talk about any of this, Grandma.”

  “I know, honey. But the truth is you need to.”

  I sighed, she was wearing me down. Not that I was changing my mind about wanting to go, but I was thinking about going just to get them off my back. Then she played really dirty…my own grandmother.

  “Would you go just once, Molly? For me, please?”

  “Okay, Gran,” I told her, “Just once.”

  Dr. Harris came by a while after our conversation about the support group.

  “Molly,” he said, “The MRI showed what I was afraid of. Your nephrons are hardening, becoming necrotic. The tumors are blocking the blood supply to them.”

  I wish he would have just kicked me in the stomach, it would have felt better. I was holding my breath because I was afraid if I let this one out, I wouldn’t be able to take another. I felt Gran reach for my hand and I took hers. She didn’t say anything, and neither did Dr. Harris. They just left me alone for a minute to process what he just said. In layman’s terms, he had just told me that the only kidney I had left was being choked to death by the tumors that kept multiplying. I can’t live without kidneys, can I?