“Then what?” I asked, not sure that I wanted the answer.
Megan shrugged. “They put her on the waiting list for a transplant, and she’ll have to have dialysis after the surgery.”
I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to leave right now and go to her. But I knew that would just make her mad…at me, and at Megan. God, why did this have to happen to her? She’s such a good person and she has so much life ahead of her. I let myself wallow in that for a moment and then I looked at Megan and said, “When’s the surgery?”
“Early next week,” she said.
“I know there have been a lot of secrets, but can you not tell her I know? Just please call me if she needs anything, and let me know when they schedule the surgery for sure.”
Megan nodded; she was still crying as she looked at me and said, “She thinks she’s going to die, you know? That’s why she’s so afraid to let you be close. She doesn’t want you to get hurt like that.”
“I know,” I said. “But she’s not going to die, she’s going to fight, and she’s going to have all of us right there by her side while she does. And when she’s better, a year or two or three from now, I’m still going to be there. I want to be there forever.”
Megan smiled and said, “She’s lucky to have you.”
“No, Meg. I’m the lucky one. I didn’t even know what I was missing until I met her. Thank you, for bringing her into my life.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Molly
Megan and I met for lunch after my appointment with the transplant surgeon. She was acting weird, she had been since yesterday. But I had dropped a lot in her lap by telling her how sick I was, and making her promise not to tell Brock. I knew that it was wrong. He was her friend too, and I was asking her to keep this from him, when I knew he was probably asking her what’s going one.
Brock had only tried to call me once. I’d been on the phone with Grandma, and I had rejected his call. He didn’t leave a voicemail. Maybe this was a good sign. Maybe he was going to take this better than I thought. Maybe I had given myself too much credit for being unforgettable.
“So what did the doctor say?” she asked while we waited for our salads.
“He said that I am a good candidate, like Dr. Harris did. Because I’m healthy otherwise, and I’m young, it will put me up a few slots. The list is not short, however, and they were realistic about the odds of it happening any time soon; they’re slim.”
“I’m sorry, Molly. You just have to stay strong, and be patient. I believe in my heart that we’re going to dance at each other’s weddings, and throw baby showers together and grow old and wrinkled while still gossiping about the neighbors.”
I laughed, but I wasn’t so sure she was right. I wanted her to be, but I had to be realistic. Having false hopes was not going to help me anymore than it would have Brock.
“So,” she asked, “Any word on when the surgery will be?”
“Yeah, Dr. Harris called me a little bit ago. It’s scheduled for early Monday morning at eight. My grandma will be there though, so you don’t have to take the time off from school…”
Megan was rolling her eyes at me. “Are you crazy? Did you think wild horses could keep me away?” I didn’t, but I thought I should say so.
“You’re a good friend Meg,” I said.
“The best,” she said with a grin. There was sadness in her eyes though. I didn’t know if it was about the surgery, or what I had done to Brock. Either way it was my fault, and I hated hurting the people that I loved…all the time.
The next few days passed quickly. I tried to go about my business and not think about the surgery and the aftermath. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brock, and I couldn’t stop dreaming about him at night. I thought about taking a sedative, or at the very least a dose of Nyquil, because every time I closed my eyes I had some kind of dream about him singing to me, or holding me, or kissing me, or making love to me. I would have to wake up every morning and remind myself all over again that it was over. It was like my heart was breaking over and over again. I lived in fear of running into him, of having to come face to face with the hurt I’ve already caused him. I hoped that he had given up, or was at least resigned to do so. I hoped that he would move on, and be happy. He deserved to be happy.
Monday morning my grandmother showed up at five a.m. to take me to the hospital. Megan was up getting ready. She hugged me tight and told me she would be there, and she would see me when I woke up. Grandma and I didn’t talk much on the way there. What was there to say, really? When we got there, the nurse asked us to wait while she got things ready and as we sat there shrouded in doubt and anxiety….and Brock walked through the door. I must have looked shocked because Grandma said, “Oh, you weren’t expecting him?” Brock heard her and said, “No ma’am. She wasn’t expecting me. I’m sorry to intrude, but can Molly and I talk for a few minutes?”
Bless her old loyal heart; Grandma looked at me to make sure it was okay. I guess he already knew, obviously, so what did I have to lose at this point? When Grandma stepped out I looked at him and said, “I wish you wouldn’t have come.”
“Why, Molly?” he said. He looked like he truly didn’t know.
“Brock, you’re not even twenty years old yet. This is not what you signed up for. Today is only the beginning; I still have a long and chaotic road ahead of me…if I make it through today.”
He reached for my hand and he said, “I wish that you didn’t think there’s a chance you won’t make it. I want everything to be on your side, Molly, even your attitude and your will. I only met you a few months ago, and I already can’t imagine a world without a Molly.”
That made me smile and I couldn’t pass it up. “You know, it’s a silly name, but I think if I left the world, there would be a few more left behind.”
He didn’t smile. I don’t think he liked my joke. “If you died, part of me would die with you…but I would be a better man for just having known you. So there goes your argument for “What if I die?” I don’t believe in my heart, however that you’re going to die. So what that means is waiting for transplants and enduring dialysis. What that means is a busy schedule. I want to be there for all of that Molly. I want to be by your side. I want to read to you while you’re on the dialysis machine and I want to brush your hair when you’re in the hospital and hold your hand while you wait to hear about the transplant. I want you, Molly. Not just the you who’s healthy and happy and having a good day. I want the real you. I’m in love with the real you. I’m so much in love with you, Molly. My heart physically aches for you.”
Did he say love? He’s in love with me? My chest started to hurt and I could barely take in a breath. Why did he have to say that? I love him too. I love you too. Say it out loud, Molly. What have you got to lose? He said it.
“Brock,” I started.
“Don’t tell me to go away again, Molly, because I’m not going. I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving.” He wouldn’t stop talking, so I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. That did it. He kissed me back, with a passion, and my chest really ached from lack of oxygen then.
“I was just going to say, I love you too,” I told him. The look on his face was enough to die for after that, and I realized that if I did die today, at least I left knowing that I had experienced life’s greatest gift, the love of a good man.
After we kissed some more and he held me for a while, I sent him back out to get Gran who we had forgotten about. Poor old Gran. Megan and Jake got there, just before they took me back to the OR. Meg hugged me and told me she loved me, and then to my great surprise, so did Jake. That one almost put me over the top.
As they wheeled me back in my lovely paper cap, Brock held my hand. When we got to the door the nurse told him, “I’m sorry, sir. You’ll have to wait in the waiting room now.”
He bent down and kissed my lips once more. I wanted to put my arms around him and let him lift me up and carry me away from all of this. But I didn’t. I decided to suck
it up and take it like a woman, especially when he said, “I love you Molly, with my whole heart. I’ll be right here when you come out, okay?”
I nodded. He was blurry through the tears, but they were good tears, happy ones. I was headed to a room where they were going to take out a vital organ that I literally couldn’t live without for very long, yet I was happier than I ever remember being. Crazy, I know.
“I love you too, Brock,” I told him.
I watched his face until the doors had completely closed on him. When they got me into the OR, the anesthesiologist was waiting for me.
“Hi Molly, are you ready to get this done?”
“What’s the hurry, Doc?” I asked him. “You have a tee time?”
He laughed, “I wish we could keep you awake, you’re a lot funnier than Dr. Harris. He’s kind of flat as a matter of fact.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine why. Dealing with cancer is hilarious.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brock
The doctor had told us she would be back there for about three hours. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to stand it for three hours. I wondered just how mad they would be if I went back and just peeked through the window, just to make sure she was okay and they were treating her right.
Jake was playing a video game on his iPad and Megan was reading a magazine. Molly’s grandmother was knitting. I stood up and paced for a bit, but I noticed the looks of the others and, not wanting to tell me that I was making them nervous and they wished I would stop, I stopped. I started wishing I had brought my guitar. At least I could go play music for the other patients and make myself useful for a bit.
I sat again for a while, and then I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I almost ignored it, but I didn’t have anything else to do so I slipped it out and looked at it. It was my dad. Somehow, some way, he always knew when I needed him. I went out to the outer lobby and answered it.
“Hi Dad,”
“Hey son. How are you?”
I looked towards the OR doors and almost told him to call back in another two hours or so and I would let him know. Instead, I said, “Dad, I met the most amazing girl.”
My dad laughed, “Don’t you meet them pretty regularly son?”
“Not like this one, Dad. This one is a keeper…like for forever.” My dad could hear in my voice that I was serious.
“That’s great son!” he said, with real enthusiasm. “What’s her name?”
“Her name’s Molly and I am head over heels in love with her,” I told him. I spent the next hour on the phone with him. After I told him about her, and finally told him where I was and what I was doing here, he wouldn’t hang up. He couldn’t be here for me in person, so he was here for me via telephone. I have the greatest dad in the world, the best and prettiest girlfriend, and two of the best friends anyone could ask for. I’m a lucky guy. I felt so much better after talking to my dad. He was always so positive, and it was contagious. Any lingering doubts I had that Molly wasn’t coming out of there alive and well were purged by the sound of his voice and the wisdom of his words.
After I finished on the phone finally, I went back into the waiting room. “Does anyone want coffee or anything?” I asked them. Molly’s grandma said she would love some, Megan wanted a soda, and Jake said, “I’ll go with you and see what they have to eat. I got up early and breakfast was a long time ago.”
We weren’t gone long, but when we got back Molly’s grandmother wasn’t there. “Where’s Grandma?” I asked Megan.
“It’s okay, Brock,” she said. “Molly’s out of surgery. She’s not awake yet, but they let her grandma go back and see her.
I felt an overwhelming desire to go barge in there myself. I knew if I tried it though, I’d be carried out by security and I wouldn’t be here when she woke up. So I sat and waited some more, and finally her grandma came back and said, “She’s still sleeping, but you can go back one at a time if you want.” I looked at Megan and she smiled. “Go ahead. I’m sure she’d rather wake up to your pretty face than mine,” she said.
As I was headed out the door I heard Jake say, “You think he’s pretty?”
The nurse let me into the recovery room and I followed her to a glass room where Molly was. It wasn’t really a glass room, I guess, but it had huge glass doors facing out to the nurses’ station. She told me to go on in. None of the equipment was foreign to me; I had seen it all before up close and personal. But seeing Molly’s tiny body in that bed, hooked up to all of those tubes and monitors made me feel sick. I went over and bent down to give her a kiss and then I sat down in the chair next to the bed. She reminded me of when I was a kid and I watched Snow White. When she ate the apple and went to sleep, the dwarves put her in a glass coffin and she slept until the prince came.
I put one hand over hers and said, “I’m not claiming to be Prince Charming, baby, but I want to be your prince and I’m here, so wake up.”
That was when she opened her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Molly
After surgery, it doesn’t matter how well it went, you always wake up feeling like hell. Your mouth is dry and your vision is blurry. You’re disoriented and confused and sometimes you’re in pain. I discovered today though that the cure for most, if not all of that, was to wake up with Brock at your bedside. His face when I opened my eyes was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.
“Hi,” I croaked. My throat was still sore from the breathing tube they’d put down during surgery.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said with a dazzling smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Euphoric,” I told him.
“There you go with the big words again,” he said. “Are you sure you’re not an English major?”
“I don’t know why I’m not,” I said. “Speaking of words, before I came into surgery you said a few to me…”
He leaned in close to the bed then and kissed me on my lips that had to be hard and dry and then he said, “I love you Molly.”
“Those were the words I was looking for. Does it seem a little desperate that I’m wearing a gown split up the back and lying in bed when I ask you to say it?”
He laughed again. “I think you’re still feeling the juice,” he said.
“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “But mostly, I’m feeling the love. I love you, Brock,” I said.
Then I closed my eyes and drifted off again. I don’t know how much time passed, but I felt Brock’s warm lips on mine again. I smiled and said, “My prince.”
Click Here to Get 3 FREE Books
Get your free copies of 3 books and a 4th never released novel when you sign up for the authors VIP mailing list.
Click here to get your free books
Get Future New Releases In This Series For 99 Cents
Click Here to Like My Facebook Page
Get An Email When My Next Book Comes Out By Clicking Here
MY ROCK BOX SET
By Alycia Taylor
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016. All rights reserved.
MY ROCK #1
Chapter One
Elly
I had been telling myself all day that I was a professional, twenty-two year old woman and silly, old crushes should be just that…..but my infatuation with Tristan had gone a little bit deeper than just a silly crush. Granted, I was only twelve when I first discovered his boy band, called Uptown Boyz, but from the ages of twelve to fifteen, Tristan, the leader and oldest member of the band, was my everything. I went to sleep every night and woke up every morning to his beautiful face. I had borrowed our neighbor’s ladder one day when I was home alone and I’d tacked my poster of him to the ceiling above my bed. It was the best birthday present I ever got—my best
friend, Lucy, knew me well. It was there for two years and I don’t think either of my parents ever even noticed it.
I carried my lunch in an Uptown Boyz lunchbox. I had to hide it in my backpack all through middle and high school because I got a lot of flak about it, but I still carried it to show my dedication. I spent every dime I was able to save from my allowance and babysitting gigs on their new CD’s, and every little girl fantasy I had about growing up and getting married casted Tristan in the starring role as the groom.
I can’t even describe how devastated I was when I heard they broke up. I can still recall exactly where I was and what I was doing. I was at the mall with Lucy, just hanging out at the food court, when I heard some girl say that Uptown Boyz was no more.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I’d asked her. My heart was pounding and my head felt light.
“Uptown Boyz broke up.” She delivered the news with a shrug of her shoulders. As though this was no big deal.
“Are you sure?” I asked, convinced this had to be a mistake or some stupid hoax. They are always saying celebrities have died when they are alive and well—I held out hope that this was the same kind of thing.
She rolled her eyes and took on a condescending tone. “Yeah, I’m positive. I just heard it on the radio before I came in here. The DJ said that Tristan Rogers was going into rehab for, like, the third time, or something ridiculous like that. The rest of the band just got tired of him always screwing up.”
It was like a slap in the face. “But without him, they wouldn’t have been anything. They’re glorified back-up singers,” I told her. Lucy was pulling on my arm, trying to get me to get serious about shopping. I spent the rest of the shopping trip in a haze, unable to focus on anything besides the breakup. Then I went home and fixated on it the rest of evening. In truth, it took me months to quietly recover, but I finally did, and I moved on…or at least I had thought.
Dirty Maverick (The Maxwell Family) Page 68