The Wonder of Now

by Beck, Jamie

  “Peyton, you don’t have to pretend to be so strong for me.” He squeezed her arm. “I know if I’m scared, you have to be terrified.”

  “Not helping.” She looked away and signaled Roger, the employee who was lining up the readers, that they were ready to begin. Before the first reader came up, she muttered to Logan, “Time to sign. And if you can’t buck up, I’m going to dinner with Johnny without you.”

  “Fine,” he replied.

  For a few minutes, Peyton fell into the groove of taking photos, signing books, and answering some personal questions. Things were humming along, and she somehow managed to put her little lump aside until Logan croaked, “Claire?”

  Peyton snapped her gaze up, but instead of Claire, Mitch stepped into view. Her mouth fell open wide enough that people in line could probably see her fillings.

  She exchanged a look with Claire and knew—knew—that Claire had told Mitch about the lump. Every cell in her body ignited, urging her to run from the room.

  “This is a surprise.” She struggled to meet Mitch’s eyes. Yet there he was, in gorgeous 3-D, staring at her like there was nothing else on the planet. Her heart thumped so hard in her chest it might pound the stupid lump straight through her skin.

  “A gate delay made us miss the reading. I assume it went fine?” He nodded an acknowledgment at Logan, who had already reached for Claire.

  Peyton struggled to compute how Mitch and Claire both had ended up here together, and why . . .

  “Of course.” She would not fall apart in front of these readers, no matter how her desire to rush into Mitch’s arms terrified her. “This isn’t the best time to talk, though.”

  “I’ll wait over there, with Claire.” He collected Claire and wandered toward a stack of children’s books.

  Through her teeth, Peyton asked Logan, “Did you know they were coming?”

  She scribbled her signature and smiled for a photo with a middle-aged woman.

  “No,” he answered before the next book came her way.

  She grunted. “Claire told him about the lump. I’m sure of it. I can’t believe she shared my personal medical information.”

  Before Logan could defend Claire—which would be impossible—a teenage girl interrupted them. “Hi. I’m Lelah, but I want you to sign this to my mom, Donna. She couldn’t come tonight because she’s sick, and”—Lelah cleared her throat—“well, I hope this will make her fight harder.”

  Peyton reached across the table and grabbed the young lady’s hand. “I’m very sorry to hear about your mom. How are you holding up?”

  She shrugged, her stoic expression never faltering. Peyton couldn’t help but compare her to how she suspected Mitch must’ve handled facing the same fight at that age. “It’s hard.”

  “I can imagine. Now I want you to listen to me, okay? It’s super important that you remember that it’s okay to still find some happiness in normal things. When I was sick, I didn’t want my family to spend all their time worrying about me. If I saw them passing up things because of me or pretending not to be excited about things they were looking forward to, it made me feel worse, not better.” She hoped Logan got that message, too.

  She nodded again. “Thanks.”

  Peyton signed the book to Donna and handed it to the young girl. “Good luck.”

  It took another fifteen minutes or more to finish up with the audience. Peyton was running out of time to figure out what she’d say to Mitch . . . or Claire. After all the pleasantries had ended with the employees, she reluctantly joined Logan, Claire, and Mitch, who were waiting for her near the door. She averted her eyes while she worked through her thoughts about what Claire had done, and what Mitch planned to say.

  Once they spilled onto the sidewalk, Claire immediately pulled at Peyton’s arm, waving the men ahead. “Give us a second.”

  Mitch and Logan stood far enough away to allow Claire and Peyton some privacy.

  “I know I crossed a major line and I’m so sorry. I thought you told Mitch about the lump and that he then broke things off like Todd. I went to his office but was about to turn around on the street outside and leave when we bumped into each other. By the time I realized he didn’t know the truth, it was too late.”

  “Stop looking at me like I’m going to punch you. After what you’ve forgiven, I can’t quite complain, can I?” Peyton blew out a breath. “That’s not to say that I’m happy, because I’m not. I kept the truth from Mitch because I don’t want to drag him through chemo and whatever else comes next.”

  “First of all, let’s not jump to the worst-case scenario. But I don’t think you’ll have to drag him. He wants to be there for you.”

  Peyton slid a quick glance Mitch’s way, catching her lower lip in her teeth. “He’s already gone through this with his dad. It’s not fair to ask him to be a caretaker, and I can’t stand being pitied.”

  “His caring about you isn’t pity, Peyton. It’s love. I know how hard it is to trust a man after someone like Todd tears up your heart, but it’s worth the risk. Don’t let Todd keep you from finding happiness with Mitch or anyone else.”

  Love. It seemed too soon to throw that word around, and yet, at the same time, it didn’t feel completely wrong, either.

  Not as wrong as it felt to be standing on the sidewalk discussing Todd with Claire, anyway. But for the first time in years, she felt as if she had her old friend back. Claire had gone out of her way for Peyton today. If nothing else, that was a silver lining of massive importance.

  “I can’t believe you got involved and came all this way,” Peyton said. “It kind of feels like old times.”

  “Maybe something like that.” Claire’s big blue eyes looked misty; then she surprised Peyton with a brief hug, which made Peyton’s throat ache. Winning back Claire’s friendship counted among her greatest achievements.

  “Logan,” Peyton called as Claire eased away. “Why don’t you and Claire go meet Johnny? It seems Mitch and I have some things to discuss.”

  “Are you sure?” Logan’s gaze darted between Claire and Peyton.

  “Yes.” Peyton nodded, managing a smile meant to coax Logan into letting go. “Show Claire around Chicago, and tell Johnny hi from me. I’ll be in good hands.”

  Her brother hugged her and then grabbed Claire’s hand. “I’ll call you later.”

  Peyton shook her head. “Let’s meet in the lobby tomorrow at nine to share a ride to the airport.”

  He kissed her forehead, then shook Mitch’s hand. “Thanks for coming. Good luck.”

  Logan and Claire hailed a cab and disappeared, leaving Peyton alone with Mitch on the sidewalk, where she could no longer avoid him and those all-seeing eyes.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “No, but if you are, I’ll take you somewhere to eat.” He kept his hands locked behind his back while appearing to be watching her for any signal of her intention.

  She shook her head, then met his gaze fully and sighed. “If it wouldn’t kill my brother, I might’ve murdered Claire for involving you in this.”

  “Don’t be angry with her for caring about you.”

  Peyton huffed, conceding that point, though it didn’t mean she’d changed her mind about what was best for Mitch. “I appreciate the grand gesture here, Mitch, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “What facts, exactly? The fact that you need to trust me to know what I want? The fact that you don’t yet know what the lump is, but even if it is malignant, it doesn’t change the way I feel about you?” He stepped closer, making her shiver. “Or the fact that you care about me? Because as hard as you’re trying to push me away, I don’t believe that’s really what you want. And I know it isn’t what you need.”

  “I’ve never pretended not to care about you. In fact, my caring for you is why I don’t want to complicate your life, and I’m nothing if not complicated, even when I’m healthy.” She’d raised her arms and then let them flop to her sides.

  “I wouldn�
�t know what to do with ‘easy.’” He smiled at her with such warmth she wanted to smack some sense into him.

  Instead she stomped a foot. “Don’t you get it? I could die—”

  Before she finished, he wrapped his arms around her. She made a half-hearted attempt to resist before she gave up and let her head nestle against his shoulder. He held her tight, murmuring in her ear, “If you’re sick, I want to be there with you, no matter the outcome. Let me be the man you turn to this time. I promise I won’t run away, and I won’t love you less because you’re sick or get bitter at times. You can trust me, Peyton.”

  “You love me?” As soon as the words slipped out, she buried her face against his chest.

  He tipped up her chin. “I don’t know all there is to know about you yet, but I love what I know. Your fire, your wit, your compassion and conscience, and your joy for life. You’ve helped me see what’s been missing in my life. Give me the chance to learn more . . .”

  “Asking you to stick by me if I’m sick feels wrong, Mitch. I swore I’d never hurt anyone I loved again.”

  “If you want to keep that promise, don’t push me away, because that hurts as much as any other scenario you’ve got swimming around in your head.” He smoothed her hair and then traced her jawline with his finger. “We’re stronger as one because our differences compensate for each other’s weaknesses. If we stick together, we can handle anything.”

  She looked into his beautiful topaz eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. With the first playful smirk she’d donned since seeing Dr. Wang, she said, “Since you broke your rules, jeopardized your career, and got on another plane for me, one could argue it’d be more selfish to deny your plea, couldn’t one?”

  “Absolutely.” He kissed her, and his lips felt so right she forgot that they were in the middle of a city sidewalk.

  Still, it was a lot to ask anyone, let alone a man in a new relationship. She broke the kiss. “Mitch, I need one promise.”

  “What’s that?” He kept her wrapped in his arms.

  “You suffered so much with your dad. If this lump isn’t benign and things get too difficult for you, promise me you will feel free to cut and run.”

  “I’m not the boy I was back then, and the man I am now is wiser, thanks to you. Besides, this isn’t a choice you make with your head. It’s about heart, and mine wants to be with you today, tomorrow, and for however long it lasts, come what may. But let’s not be so grim when there is reason to be optimistic. This lump might be nothing at all.”

  “That’s what I told myself the last time.” How blithe she’d been then, so invincible in her own mind until the weight of the truth fell on her head.

  He squeezed her again. “Remember our flight to Rome, when you promised me that God wouldn’t get you through cancer just to off you in a plane crash?”

  She nodded, snickering.

  “Well, I don’t believe God will make me lose two people I love to cancer, either.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Let’s not let fear override our faith.”

  Oddly, she felt better. “I have to say, I’m stunned that you got Claire on a plane. She hates airports and planes more than you do. I can picture you both triple-checking your seat belts and sweating it out the whole way.”

  “We managed.” He kissed her again. “Anything is possible when you’re fighting for love.”

  “If that’s true, then maybe we have a chance, after all.”

  Epilogue

  An orange evening sun ducked behind the buildings as Peyton and Mitch strolled the final block to Logan’s apartment for the party he was hosting to celebrate their memoir hitting the New York Times hardcover nonfiction bestsellers list. The past ten days had been a whirlwind of flights and appointments and nail biting.

  She’d been jumpy all day, awaiting a final call from Dr. Wang, but seeing that number pop up on her phone now made her heart stop. She halted outside Logan’s building and gripped Mitch’s arm before answering. “Hello.”

  “Peyton, it’s Dr. Wang.”

  “Hi, Dr. Wang. I’ve been expecting your call.” She stared into Mitch’s reassuring eyes, thankful he was there for whatever news she got.

  “I reviewed the pathology report, which confirms our suspicion that we removed a lipoma. I’m as happy to give you this good news as I assume you are to get it. There’s nothing further to do at this point, but I urge you to do regular self-exams. Please schedule your next appointment for six months from now. Enjoy the rest of your summer.”

  A surge of relief made her knees feel weak.

  “Oh, same to you. Thank you for calling.” Peyton hung up the phone, heart pounding, now bouncing on her toes while wiping away the happiest tears she’d shed in some time. “It’s a lump of fatty tissue. I’m still cancer-free.”

  Mitch pulled her into a hug. “I knew it!”

  “It would seem we need to add ESP to your Optimus skill set.”

  He raised a brow.

  “Dr. Wang sounded happy,” Peyton continued. “If you’d ever met her, you’d know what a shock that is. She did, however, lecture me about self-exams.”

  “I’ll gladly take over that duty.” Mitch kissed her.

  He’d been so unwavering in his support and affection she’d quickly let go of all insecurities about him seeing the foobs and scars and every other messy, imperfect thing about her. “You’re hired.”

  He chuckled and then nodded hello to Logan’s doorman before crossing the lobby to the elevator.

  “The timing of that call couldn’t be better.” She heaved another sigh of relief. “This news lifts the cloud over our celebration tonight.”

  “We might need even more champagne.” Mitch winked as Logan answered the door.

  “Sis!” Logan grabbed her into a hug before shaking Mitch’s hand. “We were wondering when you’d arrive.”

  In the kitchen, Claire was speaking with Peyton’s parents, Steffi and Ryan stood by the island, and a few other friends were scattered around the living room. Silver balloons bumped against the ceiling, their streamers dangling in long curls. Logan had set some champagne on ice and ordered Thai takeout from their favorite place around the corner.

  After she hugged and kissed everyone hello—cheerfully accepting congratulations on the book’s success—she raised her hand for attention. “I’m sorry we’re a little late, but I have good news. The lump is benign! I’m in the clear for another six months.”

  Her mother and father hugged each other as Logan swooped in to lift her off her feet. “Whoop! Now that’s something to celebrate.”

  He poured her and Mitch each a glass of champagne and made a toast. “To my amazing sister, who lives life on her own terms, delivers zingers with a smile, and whose work has made us New York Times bestselling authors! Duck would be proud. We love you and are all relieved to learn you’ll be healthy enough to keep us on our toes for a long time to come. Cheers!”

  “Cheers!” The crowd toasted.

  Before Peyton sipped from her glass, she held up her index finger. “I think we owe Mitch a nod for the effort he put into promoting the book. We wouldn’t have gotten far without him. Most of you know how I vacillated about publishing and promoting this memoir, but Logan convinced me of its value. There were many days when I doubted my decision, and others when I wanted to kill my brother.” She waited for the chuckles to peter out before she turned to face Mitch. “And while the bestseller status is a proud moment, it isn’t close to being the best thing to come out of this process. Mitch, I can’t imagine my life now without you.”

  “You don’t have to.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss while the guests all clapped.

  The guests resumed their conversations while Peyton started tugging Mitch toward the buffet line. They’d almost made it there when Claire interrupted. “Peyton, can I steal you for a second?”

  Mitch nodded and turned to speak with Logan and Ryan, while Peyton followed Claire into the bedroom, where Steffi was waiting.

  “I have a
little surprise.” Claire closed the door and directed them to sit on the bed while she rummaged through the closet. A few seconds later, she returned with a familiar plaid binder in hand. “Our unofficial first publication.”

  “No way!” Steffi laughed.

  Peyton blinked. “Is that the Lilac Lane League binder?”

  Claire nodded. “I grabbed it from my mom’s house earlier this week, knowing we’d all be together tonight. We’ve each had some real highs and lows these past two years, but I thought it might be fun to look back at where it all began.”

  Peyton reached out for the binder, and then the three of them lay, shoulder to shoulder, on their stomachs and began leafing through its pages.

  Each one was filled with photographs—of them with paint-stained hands in the tree house, in matching bikinis on the dock at Arcadia House, at the prom with boys Peyton could barely remember (except Ryan, of course)—Teen Beat clippings of crushes, doodles, notes passed in class, wish lists, and one corny poem Peyton had authored in eighth grade.

  “Ode to My Lilac Lane League”

  I love my brother, ’tis true

  But the sisters of my heart have been chosen

  We’ve pledged our loyalty, too

  As our friendship is one of devotion

  I’d know them if I were blind

  ’Cause our bond cannot be broken

  No better treasure will I find

  And no truer words will be spoken

  Peyton hung her head, groaning. “Oh God. How on earth did I go on to become a writer? You could blackmail me for my whole trust fund if you threatened to publish this.”

  “I think it’s sweet.” Claire smiled. “And not horrible . . . for middle school.”

  “Better than anything I could write,” Steffi joked. She might not have a gift for words, but she could now build them a stellar “she shed.”

  Peyton reread the poem, frowning. “I didn’t quite live up to the loyalty promise, though, did I?”

  Claire smiled at Steffi. “We all split apart and walked our own paths for a while, making some mistakes along the way. Maybe we were broken for a bit, but we’re here now and we’ve rebuilt into something stronger. That’s what matters most.”