“I’m doing well. Been waiting for your call.”
There was a slight pause before he responded. “I got the report regarding your CT.” He paused again. “They found another mass.”
The travel mug slipped from my hand, causing a loud bang against the granite countertop. I watched as the creamy liquid spilled out and onto the stone surface. “I don’t understand. Six months ago you said there was only scar tissue.”
“It still could be.”
In the pit of my gut, I knew it wasn’t. “But I feel fine. I don’t hurt.”
“Again, this could still be scar tissue. Sometimes it takes a while to form completely. Let’s not worry about it until after we have it biopsied.”
Coffee dripped onto the floor, and I didn’t move to clean it up. Instead, I watched it fall.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
It’s true what they say. Not everything goes as planned.
When my marriage started to fail with Dana, I never thought I’d have more children. Hell, I was certain I would never marry again. Now, I was married—happier than I’d ever been—and talking about having another Peanut. I nicknamed Cheyenne after I saw the first ultrasound. Cheyenne was the size of a peanut, and so that was what I called her before I even found out she was a girl. Since Brooke and I were about to start trying for a brother or sister for Cheyenne, I needed to come up with another name.
As I drove to the gym after dropping off Cheyenne at school, I thought about new names:
Bean—No.
Bud—Um, no.
Buttercup—Possibly depending on if it were a girl.
I needed a boy’s nickname. I was determined to have a boy this time so I could carry on my last name and all that. Plus, someone to roughhouse with.
Lad—No. Who called their son lad?
Monkey—I could work with that name.
Tiger—We could name him Anthony and then I’d call him Tiger. Tony the Tiger. He’d be gr-r-reat!
I was losing my mind apparently. I hoped the nickname would come to me the moment I saw him … or her for the first time just like it had when I saw Cheyenne.
When I pulled into the parking lot at the gym, I was ready to start making a baby. Granted, part of it was because I was dying to fuck my wife without anything between us. It had only been a year of me going bareback, and not gonna lie, I was addicted. When I sank into her warm, wetness, I was in heaven. Full blown floating in the clouds and shit.
“Yo.” Avery tipped his head at me as he leaned against a locker. “Why am I always here before you?”
“Because I live with two women who take forever to get ready.”
“Is C.C. still not wanting to go to school because of that Tucker fucker? You know I can help.”
I chuckled at the name I’d given this kid. Avery was all about nicknames and ate that shit up when I told him. “First of all, pranking some punk isn’t going to do shit. And second of all, I don’t want to talk about it.” I threw my keys, wallet, and cell into an empty locker. I really hoped Brooke and I had a boy because all this female bullshit was going to put me in an early grave.
“I’m not planning on pranking an eleven-year-old kid.” I cut my eyes to him because he’d pranked ten-year-old girls not that long before. “Man, boys are different. They won’t care about stupid phone calls. I’m thinking meeting up with him on the playground.”
I laughed sarcastically. “You want to go to jail for hurting some kid?”
He clucked his tongue. “Nah, that’s not what I’m sayin’. I’ll just threaten him. You know, if he ever hurts her again then I’ll talk to his parents.”
“You don’t think I can handle it?” I shut the locker and glared at him. This was my daughter we were talking about.
He shook his head. “And that’s not what I’m saying either.”
We started to leave the locker room to head to the treadmills. “You’ll understand once you have one. You tryin’?” I desperately wanted to change the subject.
Avery frowned. “Nope, Nic’s still not ready.”
“I can understand that.” I stepped onto the empty treadmill and out of habit went to put my phone in the cup holder. During my conversation with this jackass, I’d left it in the locker. “Damn, I left my phone in the locker. Now I gotta talk to you while we work out like we’re chicks or something.”
“Fuck that. I have my phone and about to start my music.”
“Whatever. So, as I was saying, I can’t wait to start trying. You know how horny pregnant women are.”
“Nic never got to that point.”
I looked at him and then started to speed up the machine. “You’ll get there one day.”
“Yeah, except my girl was excited to have our kids grow up together. Like the ultimate dream or something. Now you have to go and spoil it.”
“On second thought, I don’t want to talk while working out.” I sped up the treadmill some more until I was running.
“Works for me.” He smirked and put his earbuds in his ears.
Fucker.
Sweat dripped from my forehead and onto my royal blue fitted T-shirt. Actually, sweat was dripping everywhere: my chest, my back—my balls. Usually, I pushed it more when I could tune everyone out with my music. Today I was well aware of the dudes all trying to out lift each other. I was no exception. I’d pushed it hard figuring I needed to build up my stamina more so I could fuck my wife multiple times a day once she was ovulating. That was what I told myself at least. Maybe I pushed it because I couldn’t get sex off my brain and I was trying to distract myself.
It was probably the latter.
“Hey, so,” Avery started as I approached him after my shower, “I wasn’t going to ask because I figured you’d tell me, but did Brooke hear about her CT yet?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Let me know.”
“Yeah, of course.” I pulled open the door to the locker to get my belongings. I grabbed my phone to check my missed calls and text messages. I had eight missed calls from Brooke. My eyes shot to Avery, and he furrowed his brow. “Brooke called me eight times. Maybe she did hear.” I swiped the missed call notification so it would automatically call her back. It rang and rang then finally went to voicemail. “She isn’t answering.”
“Maybe she’s downstairs at Halo and left her phone in the office.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Call her there.”
We both shrugged on our clothes as the phone dialed the bar. “Halo,” a female voice answered, and I knew it was Dominca.
“Hey, D, it’s Easton. Can I speak with Brooke?”
“Sorry, boss. She’s not here.”
I felt all the blood drain from my body. “When did she leave?”
“She hasn’t come in today.”
I started to walk out of the locker room but stopped. So did Avery and our eyes met. “She hasn’t come in?”
“No. Do you want me to have her call you when she does?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I hung up.
“She didn’t go in yet?” Avery asked. Brooke was always there at least an hour before we rolled in since we went to the gym.
“Maybe she’s still at home. I’ll go check.”
“Let me know,” he said, and we both went to our cars.
I tried to call her cell a few more times as I drove but she didn’t answer. Ten minutes later, I clicked the remote to open the garage and Brooke’s car was still parked in it. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I knew where she was.
After parking next to her, I opened the garage door and walked into the kitchen expecting to see her drinking coffee or something. She wasn’t.
“Babe?” I called out.
Silence.
“Brooke.”
More silence.
I walked down the hall to our bedroom. When I turned to walk through the threshold, I saw her lying on the bed.
“Babe,” I said again. S
he turned toward me, her tearstained face making my heart fall out of my chest. I moved and crouched beside her. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Dr. Bloom called.”
My eyes closed briefly as I sighed. This wasn’t a good sign. “And?”
She sniffled and started to cry more.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” I walked around to my side of the bed, crawled toward her and pulled her to me as we lay face to face. The question I wanted to ask was on the tip of my tongue, but I wanted her to tell me.
“Why?”
I blinked at her question. “Why what?”
“Why me? Dr. Bloom said they saw another mass. So, why me?”
She had a valid question, and I didn’t have an answer. Instead, I told her how I saw her. “Because you’re strong and you can fight it again.” I wiped her tears from her cheek and pulled her closer to me, wrapping my arms around her as she laid her head on my chest.
“What if I’m not?”
“What did Dr. Bloom say exactly?” I wanted to know the game plan.
“He said they saw another mass, but it might be scar tissue.”
“Well, that’s hopeful. We shouldn’t—”
“It’s not scar tissue.”
“How do you know?” I asked, running my fingers through her hair.
She paused for a moment and then whispered, “I just do.”
I didn’t know what to say. How can you promise someone that everything will work out? That everything would be okay. We thought radiation would prevent another tumor from forming and it was possible it didn’t.
Brooke’s tears soaked my shirt and onto to my chest. I couldn’t see into her body and tell if it was another tumor. I couldn’t make promises I wasn’t certain I could keep.
But I could give her me, and she had me forever.
“He’s scheduling a biopsy.”
I knew she meant Dr. Bloom. There wasn’t anyone else. “Okay. You’ve done that before, and there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Except it hurt.”
“Pain makes us stronger.”
She lifted her head and turned toward me. “Want to change places?”
“I would in a fucking heartbeat if I could.”
I didn’t go into work. Instead, I called Avery and told him the news. He said he’d tell Nicole. Brooke stayed curled up in bed for the day, and I didn’t want to leave her, but I had to when it was time for Cheyenne’s softball practice. Once again I was torn. When Brooke was going through this shit the first time, she was hours away, and I couldn’t get to her. Now we were under the same roof, and I didn’t want to be away from her. Not even for a minute.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, and we’ll bring dinner back.” I leaned down and kissed the top of Brooke’s head.
She nodded and didn’t move. I didn’t know what to do, and I asked the same question in my head; why her? Sure we were told desmoid tumors grow back, but why? Why does one person have to suffer again? Why couldn’t something happen to me for once?
I put up a façade during practice. I couldn’t let Cheyenne know something was wrong. Brooke and I didn’t even know for sure. When Cheyenne and I got into the car, it was my turn to be the one in a bad mood.
I was mad.
Pissed.
Angry.
Livid.
Furious.
“Are you mad at me?” Cheyenne asked after a few minutes of us driving in silence.
“No.”
“Then why are you in a bad mood?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
I cut my eyes to her. “Not now, Peanut.”
“God!” she groaned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was just asking.”
I let out a huge sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. Something happened today, and I’m not in a good mood.”
“Whatever,” she mumbled.
“What do you want for dinner?”
Her head quickly turned to me. “We’re going out?”
“No. We need to grab something and bring it home.”
“We never go out.” She frowned.
This was true. Either Brooke or I cooked because that was just what we did. Of course, there were times I took Cheyenne out for lunch or something, but most nights we ate at home.
“How about we go out this weekend? Tonight’s not a good night.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I was really starting to hate that word.
We picked up a pizza, and when we walked in the house, Brooke was lying on the couch with a half-empty bottle of white wine on the coffee table. Her glass was empty, and her gaze was glued to the TV.
“Hey Brooke,” Cheyenne said.
“Hey, sweets. How was practice?” Brooke asked as she sat up.
Cheyenne shrugged. “It was okay. Nothing special. We got pizza.”
I slid the cardboard box on the table. “Go get plates,” I said to Cheyenne. She ran off toward the kitchen. “You okay?” I asked and bent down to kiss Brooke softly.
“As good as I’m going to get.”
“Wine helping?” I sat next to her and placed my hand on her knee. She leaned into me, and I wanted to take all her pain away.
She shrugged. “Couldn’t get wasted with Cheyenne here.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Cheyenne came back with three plates, three sodas, and pepper flakes.
“Did you tell her?” Brooke whispered.
I shook my head.
“Tell me what?” Cheyenne asked, throwing a slice of pepperoni pizza on her plate.
I looked down at Brooke, and she shrugged, shaking her head as if she didn’t care if I told her. A lump formed in my throat. Not wanting to show Brooke or Cheyenne how scared I was, I fought my tears. “Remember when I told you Brooke was sick?”
The slice of pizza Cheyenne was eating stopped right in front of her mouth. “Yeah, but she had surgery and radiation. You’re better now, right?” She asked Brooke.
Brooke turned her head and stared off, not answering her.
“Peanut, the tumor Brooke had is known to grow back.”
She took a bite of the pizza. “Okay.”
“And the other day she went to have a scan done and they … fuck,” I whispered under my breath. “The doctors found another mass.”
Cheyenne set her plate on the table and moved to Brooke, wrapping her arms around her neck as she hugged her. Brooke started to cry, and I took a deep breath, still trying to hold back my emotions. “I’ll bring you red roses again,” Cheyenne declared.
That was when we all lost it.
I wrapped my girls in my arms and we each cried. It didn’t matter if we didn’t know if Brooke really did have another tumor or if it were only scar tissue. The fact of the matter was Brooke wasn’t alone, and I was going to do everything possible to take her pain away.
Just when you think you have life figured out, she bitch slaps you in the face, laughing all the while.
That was exactly how I felt. Beat up and laughed at, kicked in the gut and spit on. You name it, I was feeling it.
Staring at the black, dark ceiling for most of that night, I was thinking about how I could go from being on such a high to drowning in the depths of my fears. They say when you get kicked down you need to get back up, but it’s easier said than done, especially when life was staring you in the face and contemplating if she wanted to ruin it for you.
Having another desmoid tumor might not be life threatening, but the emotional factor of knowing you had a mass that could potentially fuck with your future was disheartening. I tried to stay strong the first time around, but this time I wasn’t sure if my body could handle the pain again.
Ha, ha, ha. You want to have a baby? How about another tumor instead?
My first call after everything sunk in and Easton had comforted me, was to Nicole.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“I got the call.” I didn’t elaborate. She knew I was waiting for the results.
“And?”
I sighed. “They …” I paused. I couldn’t get the words out as a tear dropped from my lid.
“No,” she breathed, and I pictured her shaking her head in disbelief.
“Yep,” I confirmed. Even though I didn’t exactly tell her they found a mass, she knew because if I didn’t, I would come out and tell her.
“I’m coming over with frozen yogurt.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “And maybe vodka?”
“Got it. See you in twenty.”
After we hung up, I knew I had one more person to tell. Last time, I didn’t tell my sister because I didn’t want her to worry about me while she was in college. Now, I knew I had to, or she’d be pissed again.
“Tell me the good news,” Bailee said as soon as she answered my call.
More tears fell from my eyes. “Don’t have any.”
There was a pause before she spoke again. “I’m on my way.”
“Bai, no.”
“Sis, you have another tumor—”
“Actually the doctor said it could be scar tissue.”
Another pause. “Okay. We can handle scar tissue.”
“Or it could be a mass. I need another biopsy.”
“When is it scheduled for?”
I shrugged. “Not sure yet. They’re going to call me.”
“Well, I’m coming to stay with you until then.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You have a job—a life in Boston.”
“You’re my sister.”
I sniffled. “I know, but Easton will take care of me. I’ll be okay.”
“If he doesn’t, you tell me and I’ll be there in three hours.”
I smiled tightly. “I will.”
“Are you going to call Mom?”
Now it was my turn to pause before answering. “Didn’t cross my mind,” I admitted.
“You don’t have to. I will.”
“No,” I argued. “Let’s wait until after the results.”
“Okay.”
We chatted some more about her work and random shit until my doorbell rang.
“Nic’s here. I gotta go.” I stood from the couch and walked toward the door.
“Tell her hi for me and text me as soon as you know when your biopsy is.”
The Halo Series Boxed Set Page 70