Love Finds Its Pocket

by Mary Scarpelli

  Kat just smiled at Toni and raised her eyebrows in a gesture that said, ‘you know the truth - now what?’, and waited it out until Toni could collect her thoughts and either rip her a new one for holding onto a secret for so long, be hurt and retreat into her shell or shrug it off as the act of ego preservation that it was and move forward as if nothing of significance had been revealed.

  “First the affair with Monica and now this; anything else you’ve been keeping from me, Kat?” Toni inquired with squinted eyes that Kat now knew to be 100% Antonia.

  “Nope. That’s the long and short of it. What do you intend to do with this newfound information, my love?” Kat inquired although she thought she already knew the answer.

  “Well, now I can’t do anything because not only was I raised to respect my elders, but you have cancer so what kind of asshole would I be if I were to make a federal case out of it!

  “Hey! Do you realize that you’re twelve years older than me and my mom’s twelve years older than you?” Toni added that seemingly out-of-nowhere non-sequitur, mouth open, eyebrows raised, eyes wide and glassy from the effects of the weed.

  “Aaaaand... Your point is?” Kat asked, barely able to suppress her laughter.

  Toni paused, having lost her train of thought, furrowed her brow to try and recapture it, but then began to laugh uncontrollably once Kat started tickling her sides. Toni decided to just let it rip and speak the words out loud.

  “You’re fucking old, babe.” Toni teased.

  “Fuck you,” Kat responded.

  “No, fuck you,” Toni replied in kind.

  “Fuck me, my love.” Kat implored.

  Toni initially misread the tone as jocular but quickly regrouped when she realized her error and promptly led Kat into the bedroom, doing her best to set aside their troubles for one night.

  Meanwhile, Back in Reality

  Giovanni practically carried Toni back to the waiting room, where Dr. Eclatant was waiting patiently for her return. No one was certain where she had gone, but Giovanni shared a sixth sense with his sister so offered to sniff her out forthwith, although he said something a bit cruder that only Gene heard. Giovanni managed to find his sister with relative speed considering he was unfamiliar with the hospital’s layout and she could have been almost anywhere on its ten floors. She spotted him first, rounding the corner like a wide receiver needing to catch a Hail Mary pass for the win. He was angry like she had never before seen him. He kept repeating that the doctor gave the news to Kat’s folks rather than them since they weren’t legally her next of kin.

  “Oh no, Gio. You didn’t lose it in front of them, did you?” Toni asked, terrified of the answer.

  “You better fucking believe I did. I let them all fucking have it. Nobody loves her like we do. What the fuck is wrong with the hospital that we don’t have no rights but those dickheads do?” Giovanni was clearly troubled, and then Toni’s blood ran cold. She stopped dead and turned her brother to face her, barely able to speak the words.

  “Kat’s okay, isn’t she? Please tell me she’s okay,” Toni said through a stream of uncontrollable tears.

  Giovanni hugged her and assured her that the doctor hadn’t conveyed any bad news – he made it a point to stand within listening distance of the doctor as she spoke to Kat’s parents. He said he was angry only because none of them had any rights with Kat – they weren’t considered her family even though she spent the last two years falling madly in love with every single one of them, and they with her. He hated the smug look that Kat’s parents wore when the doctor turned to them to apprise them, rather than Antonia, of Kat’s status; by the time he would finish telling that story to his friends, the Warrington’s would become blue-blooded beasts upon whom a multitude of miseries were wished.

  “Where’d she spend the last two Christmases, at our house or with her fucking parents? Who’d she go on a family vacation with, us or them? You should’a seen ‘em, Tone. I don’t know how the fuck she ever came out of that cold bitch and her father’s lucky I didn’t make him eat his teeth. You should’a seen how high and mighty they acted when I went over to introduce myself. Mom told me not to but you know how stubborn I can be.

  “So I walk over to them and I’m like, ‘hey, how you doin’? I’m Giovanni Mangiarmi, Toni’s little brother. I’m so sorry about your daughter. I am – we all are, praying for her’.

  “I was on my best behavior; respectful, you know? I held out my hand to Kat’s father and he kinda looked at it like it was made out of shit or somethin’. Tone, his lip curled and his right eyebrow went up and he stepped back. He totally refused to shake my hand! What kind of man is he anyway?

  “I think I looked shocked because you should’a seen their reaction. They started laughing at me. Laughing, at me! What the fuck is wrong with those people? Maybe he thought my hand was dirty ‘cause I was wearing my bright orange John Max tee shirt? I’m sorry Tone, but Dad and me worked a little bit this morning; we had to take our minds off of the surgery ‘cause it was killing us, you know what I’m sayin’? We’re pretty broken up about it.

  “So I figure, let me go over there and introduce myself – Mom already did before I got there so maybe that’s why she told me not to, but you know I don’t listen to nobody, but what the fuck! I might be stupid sometimes but even I know that when shit like this happens, family has to stick together – let the bullshit go and support each other but not those two. I’m thinking maybe Kat was adopted ‘cause there ain’t no way she came out of that bitch.

  “And I was talkin’ to Dad on the drive here and he said that he’d rather cut off his balls than have anything bad happen to his kids – to you and Marcella especially ‘cause you’ll always be his little girls, and then I look over at Kat’s Dad and he’s sittin’ there with this stupid fucking look on his face like he’s mister high and mighty, like he’s out on a Sunday stroll or somethin’, always with that stupid grin and one raised eyebrow, lookin’ down at me like I’m dirt.

  “Don’t those people have no morals? I don’t know how Kat turned out to be such a wonderful woman. Don’t look at me like that, Tone – you know I love her too. Sorry, but that’s the way it is. Ah come on, stop lookin’ at me like that. I mean, I respect your relationship with her and everything but I’m just sayin’ - I would marry her in a heartbeat.

  “The doctor’s waitin’ for you because she knows you two are in a relationship so she wants to talk to you personally.

  “Oh, by the way, Massi knocked-up his girlfriend so they’ll be gettin’ married real soon. They’re havin’ a boy so dad’s like a pig-in-shit happy about it.”

  Giovanni navigated a stunned Toni through the corridors with a savant’s instinct, returning her to the waiting room in record time. Toni tossed a quick congratulatory smile over to her soon-to-be sister-in-law, whose name she could not remember for the life of her and blew Massimo a kiss. They both radiated a happiness, the depth of which neither ever hinted at possessing, individually or as a couple. She hoped this would help to fill her brother’s void and lessen the hurt that he had been carrying with him since birth, in feeling like such a disappointment of a son. She saw in Monica how an empty pit of an emotional life, never feeling loved or good enough, can have a mortally destructive impact and didn’t want her brother to go through the rest of his life carrying a similar burden.

  “Dr. Eclatant. So sorry to keep you waiting. How is she?” Toni could not, nor did she care to conceal her anxiety.

  Although she had been assured that this procedure had become routine, with Dr. Eclatant having a few thousand similar surgeries under her belt, this time the patient was Kat, which for her, made it the most important surgery that the good doctor would ever have to perform.

  “She came through the first phase of surgery quite well, Toni. The mastectomy is complete; the initial pathology report didn’t show any lymph node involvement so that’s very good news,” to clarify, the doctor added, “that means there was no reason to remove any additional
lymph nodes; six all tolled were removed, three sentinel and three others that were in close proximity. Of course a more in-depth pathological analysis will need to be conducted before we can fully understand the exact nature of her cancer, but those results won’t be returned for a few weeks so in the interim, I would strongly advise the two of you to focus on her recovery, on getting her back on her feet so that she can start feeling like her old self again.

  “The next few weeks will be crucial to her healing process and she’ll most likely experience a significant level of pain.

  “Also, I won’t release her from the hospital until I see that the effects of anesthesia have been expunged from her system. She’ll also need to speak with a physical therapist who will certify that she’s sufficiently, independently ambulatory. The PT will also advise her on the exercises she’ll need to do to regain mobility in her shoulder. She’ll need your assistance for those – her pectoral muscles will be reconfigured during the reconstruction procedure so the exercises are going to produce discomfort but they need to be done. Giving her a Percocet before she starts might lessen the pain somewhat.

  “Experience has demonstrated that it’s best to get the patient up and on her feet as quickly as possible so although I’m going to advise you to exercise caution over the next few weeks, just bear in mind that she’s not fragile and needs to be an active participant in her own recovery. The healing process will commence almost immediately. You’ll see.

  “When she looks at herself in the mirror, she might not like what she sees – the tissue expander in a necessary but rather unsightly device meant to stretch her muscles to accommodate the implant so try to persuade her not to dwell on that; after all, it’s only temporary.

  “Once Dr. Echeverria gets through with her, she’ll look fabulous but in the interim, well, studies have shown that a positive outlook has a statistically significant benefit to expediting ones recovery process so anything you can do to keep her spirits positive over the next several weeks will give her a much-needed boost toward healing.

  “Oh, another thing - Dr. Echeverria will come by to visit Katherine tomorrow morning at which time he’ll assess her progress and also teach her, and hopefully you too, how to clear her drains. It’s unpleasant, but it will need to be done two to three times per day until he decides the time is right to remove them.”

  “Okay, thanks. I think I got all of that. So then, what now?” Toni asked but was taken aback when her voice sounded as if it originated from someone else sitting across the room.

  “Dr. Echeverria has already prepped Katherine for phase two of the surgery so is taking over from here. Your mother gave him the compression garment. But bear in mind that the reconstruction could take between three to four hours to complete – Dr. Echeverria is unapologetically meticulous. He refuses to let even one stitch be less than perfect, so please, take a deep breath, go out and get something to eat and try not to worry. She’s in good hands and she’ll be just fine. Her vitals are strong – her attitude was positive going into the surgery. You’ll have your partner back before you know it.” Dr. Eclatant shook Toni’s hand, wished her luck and walked quickly back down the corridor, away from those big, tearing eyes, toward the suite of operating rooms and her next patient.

  Toni sat down next to her mother and placed her head on her mother’s shoulder, not realizing how badly she needed to be comforted. Everyone wanted to know what the doctor said, so incensed they were at not being given the respect of their position in Kat’s life to warrant a first-hand account, so despite wanting to find her quiet place, Toni recounted the details, in Italian so that she wouldn’t have to say it again to her grandparents via translation, to the visible relaxation of the entire family.

  They agreed, collectively, that they’d been given good news; even so, they insisted on sticking around until the end because they intended to be there when Kat emerged from her anesthetized slumber, to let her know they were there rooting for her, that she was loved and that they were all praying for a speedy recovery. That Giovanni would eventually convince her to relent and give him the unused portion of her Percocet prescription was not yet a cause for his elation. He dropped to his knees and thanked god for keeping Kat safe. Nonno and Nonna made the sign of the cross and sat back, holding hands.

  Massimo Jr. kissed Toni’s cheek and offered to locate some decent take out and bring back food for the family. After Massimo Sr. pointed to the No Eating or Drinking sign posted in several sections of the waiting room, they collectively agreed to find a restaurant in the neighborhood and take turns eating, making certain that at least one member of the family would always be in the waiting room – just in case. Toni deferred in taking the first food shift as she was still too upset to eat. Very little stole away her appetite and this was indeed the worst physical reaction she’d ever had to the extent that even the thought of food made her nauseous.

  All she could think of was Kat, lying prone on an operating table, being sliced open, having her diseased flesh excised, exposed to a team of surgeons, surgical assistants, nurses, an anesthesiologist and quite possibly a cadre of surgical residents gawking at the spectacle of Kat’s once magnificent breast being torn apart, and how after they had completed their incisions, excisions, reconfigurations and sutures, Kat’s world would be forever changed.

  She knew that although Kat had expressed an interest in having both procedures filmed for future viewing, this was a serious matter and no manner of arms-length mentality would work toward lessening the impact of this being a major life-changing event. From that day forward, nothing would ever again be the same. Cancer threw more reality at Toni than she had the stomach for yet she tried desperately to remain strong not only for Kat but also to retain some manner of sanity. Kat was her strength, her life-mate, her emotional center. She was so utterly tied to Kat that she feared for her own stability should anything catastrophic happen to her – irretrievably intertwined is how she phrased it to a stunned Kat. Kat needed to conserve her strength so that she could heal properly. As such, courage and stability were the best and only gifts that Toni could give to her lover.

  To counteract the constant rotations of negative thinking that rapidly changed from fear to panic, to catatonia and back again, in an endless cycle that left her woozy, Toni voraciously read everything she could lay her eyes on and asked advice of every doctor, radiologist, technician, women’s forums – anything and anyone to absorb as much information as she could. She sifted through the accumulated metadata, finding a significant overlap in the results of the studies conducted both domestically and by researchers within the EU. The recommendations for treatment and recovery were all so significantly similar that it provided comfort that the medical community had learned enough to make their advice reasonably trustworthy. The conclusion was, overwhelmingly, that Kat would walk away from her cancer experience scarred, perhaps a bit more humble, and on maintenance medication probably for the next ten years, but not a woman for whom prudence dictated that her remaining life on earth be counted in days rather than years.

  Toni, Antonia and Nonna stayed behind while everyone else went in search of a decent meal. Gene and Marcella weren’t as familiar with the Upper East Side as they were with the Upper West, but Gene had already consulted with the online Zagat guide and knew exactly where he intended to direct the family to eat. He was far more of a pragmatist that had, on that day, made him the de facto leader – the rest of the family was in no condition to think clearly. He ate light, intending to take the remaining three Mangiarmi women to the same restaurant, as he feared for their emotional well being. They would be especially vulnerable to upset if their bellies were kept empty for so many hours and their blood sugar levels were allowed to fly out of balance. He also didn’t want them to spend too much time away from his strong center. He knew them to be the type of people who wouldn’t be convinced that Kat was not in mortal danger until they saw it with their own eyes. They required personal verification and nothing short of sharing
a few brief words with a fully cognizant Kat would suffice.

  Gene stayed by his mother’s side after her diagnosis, long before the procedure to identify and analyze sentinel nodes via biopsy had been invented, before insurance companies gave the green-light for plastic surgeons to reconstruct the poor, ravaged breast, before the surgeons thought to make a cut other than directly horizontal across the middle of the breast, before tissue-sparing options were available, which only ensured it would take center stage during any unveiling, so bore witness to the more archaic methodologies prior to their current level of aesthetic and procedural sophistication. That experience, coupled with the fact that his mother’s cancer had been categorized as Stage II, made him the resident expert that the family consulted when their fears threatened to overcome their better judgment.

  His mother went through hell over the course of her chemotherapy treatments, coming through it battered and weakened, but alive and well and living her remaining life to its fullest. Antonia took special comfort in the fact that she lived well into her nineties before succumbing to death, not from cancer, rather a broken hip that ushered in pneumonia, then shortly thereafter, the end; but since her cancer never returned that story was recounted often as their beacon of hope. These were the types of stories the Mangiarmi clan needed to hear. Each time someone would attempt to share with them a decidedly negative turn of events, they would summarily request that person to stop speaking with a firm, ‘Basta! Stai zitta!’ Those few people that were unable to control their impulse to continue spreading toxic negativity were cut-off from the family for good.

  Toni allowed herself the relative luxury of being cradled by her mother while her thoughts were free to roam to a time in their lives when she and Kat hadn’t one worry in the world, with time to spare, discussing all manner of inane topics simply for the pleasure of dissecting life, situations, implications, unearthing the underpinnings of that which motivates certain behaviors and decisions over other, perhaps more advisable choices. Ah yes, she thought, younger days, simpler times, and then cried with abandon while her mother held her closely and cried along with her.