Читать книгу Afraid To Lose Her - Syndi Powell - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTHE NEXT WEEK passed quickly as Sherri recuperated from the lumpectomy. She popped antacids while she waited for Dr. VanGilder to gather all the necessary information to determine what happened next. If the cancer didn’t get her, Sherri figured the ulcer that must be forming in her stomach might.
She hoped that the specimen removed from her breast had clear margins indicating that all the cancer had been taken. Perhaps she’d be done with surgery and could go back to her normal life. For now, she was staying at her parents’ home for the weekend. She couldn’t face an empty apartment after her surgery.
Mama knocked on the open guest bedroom door and popped her head inside. “Dez is here.”
Sherri groaned and propped herself up on one elbow. “I’m not in the mood for visitors. Could you tell him I’m sleeping?”
“I won’t lie to him. Not even for you. He came to see you because he’s concerned about you.” Mama’s forehead wrinkled, and she waggled her finger at her. “You’d be so lucky to have him for a husband.”
Sherri swung her legs over the side of the bed and massaged the area where the lump had been. It was still tender after three days, but the doctor had promised she’d be up and around soon. “Dez is a friend, Mama. Nothing more.”
Mama didn’t looked convinced. “I’ve seen how he watches you.”
“You’re imagining things. And besides, that sounds a little creepy.” Mama had to be mistaken. Had to be. Dez was a friend, a good one. There wasn’t anything romantic going on between them. Right? How could there be?
Mama raised one eyebrow at this, but shrugged. “He’s waiting in the living room. We’ll see who watches who.”
Mama shut the bedroom door, and Sherri rose to her feet. She pulled on sweatpants and a zip-up jacket to cover the ratty T-shirt she wore. She hadn’t showered since the surgery—too afraid to get the sutures wet—so she probably looked like a wreck. Not that Dez would care. He’d seen her in bad shape before. Like last summer when they’d played the softball championship game that had gone into extra innings. By the time it was over, they hadn’t just lost the game, she had sweat rolling down her face, her hair was damp and her softball shirt and pants were covered in dirt because she’d slid into home plate.
She opened the bedroom door and ambled down the hall to the living room, where Dez and her dad sat in matching recliners, discussing the Detroit Tigers. Conversation stopped when she entered the room, and Dez stood suddenly and motioned her to the sofa. His eyes never left hers as she walked across the room and took a seat. Dez moved to sit next to her and looked her over. “I would have come sooner, but the captain had me on an assignment and I couldn’t get away. How are you?”
She tried to find the words, but unable to, she merely shrugged. Dez smiled at that and smoothed her hair away from her eyes. She backed up at his touch. He frowned and dropped his hand into his lap. “Cap can’t wait for you to come back.”
Yes, let’s focus on work rather than whatever it was that swirled around them. “There’s been developments on the raid? Tell me.”
He glanced at her dad and leaned in closer. “The ballistics report came back with interesting anomalies.”
She’d had a feeling that would be the outcome. Call it a hunch or whatever, but she’d suspected that there had been something shady going on. At least, shadier than the drug operation. “The ammo belonged to one of us, right?”
“Department-issued bullets were found on scene. And not all of them came from our guns.” He peered into her face and frowned. “Are you sure you’re well enough to talk shop?”
“I’m recuperating, not dead.” She could talk without hurting something. “What about the tests run on the drugs we found on scene?”
Dez leaned closer to her and dropped the volume of his voice. “Consistent with what we found before. It’s the same kind of dope, so the same dealers.”
Sherri went and stood at the large bay window, scanning the front yard. “It’s coming in right under our noses,” she said. She turned back to Dez. “And they’re getting help from one of us.”
He frowned at this. “Someone with Border Patrol?”
She’d bet money that it wasn’t one of their team specifically, but she couldn’t rule it out. Good people did dumb things all the time. “Uh-huh. I’d stake my reputation and job on it. What’s your gut telling you?”
“That we still have more questions than answers. And I don’t want to make any assumptions that could cost us or set our investigation back.”
She sighed. “Something else has been bothering me for the last few days. Giroux said that he knew who had been present at the raid as well as who wasn’t. What if our inside guy didn’t show up that day? Was there anyone expected to have been there who wasn’t?”
Dez pulled out a small notebook and pen and made a note. “That’s good. Maybe our mole wanted to be out of the way of flying bullets and passed on being there. I’ll look into it.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “When are you coming back to work? I’d rather we did this together.”
That was the big question. She was ready for the job, tender muscles or no. She needed to be on this case, on her other cases. What she didn’t need was to be sitting and doing nothing except thinking about what could be happening in her body. She craved the routine of waking up every morning and driving to the office. And part of her feared that Dr. VanGilder would find something that would take that away. That normalcy. “Tuesday afternoon I have my appointment with VanGilder. I’ll have some answers after that, at least.”
“Good. The office isn’t the same without you.”
She shook her head but smiled at this. “I’ve only missed a couple of days.”
Dez grinned and she was struck by how it made him appear so appealing. Attractive. Handsome even. A dimple winked at her from one of his cheeks. “One day too many,” he said.
Pushing those thoughts aside—this was her partner and friend Dez after all—Sherri told him genuinely, “Thanks for coming over.”
Dez glanced around the living room and held up his hands. “Trying to get rid of me already? Your mom promised to feed me.”
Of course she did. Because that was what her mother did, stuffed everyone with food who came through the front door. Sherri wanted, no, needed, time and space to examine how confused she felt about Dez. And she’d have a clearer picture if the man himself wasn’t standing in front of her looking so good.
She brought a hand up to her hair and wished she’d at least washed it in the sink. Not that her appearance had mattered when it came to Dez. Despite Mama’s assertions, she knew he thought of her only in terms of friendship and work.
* * *
TUESDAY’S APPOINTMENT WITH Dr. VanGilder gave Sherri stomach cramps the more she thought about it. She dressed as if she was going to work. A cream blouse, navy jacket and pants. She tried to think of herself as putting on her armor to face whatever dragon still lay before her. If she acted like this was a typical day, then maybe that was how it would turn out.
She drove to her parents’ neighborhood to pick up Mama, who had agreed to take notes while the doctor went over all the test results and made his recommendation for treatment. She pulled her car to the curb and took the tray of coffees with her to the front door. Her father answered and exclaimed when she thrust a bakery bag into his hand. “Thought you could use something sweet.”
He opened the bag, then kissed Sherri’s cheek. “Honey crullers. My favorite.” He pushed the door open wider so that she could enter. “Your madre said she’d call me at work, after you talk to the surgeon, to let me know.”
“I’m sorry you can’t go with us.”
Her dad waved his free hand. “Some stuff a father doesn’t need to know.”
Sherri moved ahead to the kitchen and put the tray of coffees on the counter. She took one of the paper cups and sipped from it. “It’s going to be okay, Dad.”
He watched her, his eyes searching hers. “Trying to convince me? Or yourself?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Both maybe.”
They looked at each other for a long while, but didn’t say any more. Instead, her dad pulled a cruller from the bag and offered it to her. She shook her head. “I got them for you,” she told him.
“Gracias.”
Mama entered the kitchen, followed by Abuela. Sherri pointed to the counter. “I brought coffee and crullers, if Dad will share.”
“I don’t think I can eat, mija.” Mama held a hand to her belly. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and my stomach...it is in knots.”
Her dad kissed Mama and hugged her tightly. “Sherri said it’s going to be okay.” He kissed her again. “It will be. No matter what the doctor says.”
Sherri glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get going just in case of rush hour.”
Despite the heavy traffic, they made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Sherri clasped Mama’s hand in hers as they entered the doctor’s office and found seats in the tiny waiting room. Mama held up a small pad and pen. “For notes, just like I promised.”
Thank goodness her mom had remembered, because Sherri wasn’t sure she could remember her own name at the moment. All she could focus on was the beat of her heart. Each breath took an effort, and her skin felt tight as if it would crack and break open with a simple movement.
A nurse opened the inner office door and called Sherri’s name. Sherri rose to her feet and squared her shoulders. Mama nodded and stood, as well.
The next hour was spent discussing test results and the next steps. Sherri’s prognosis wasn’t good. Scans showed cancer peppered throughout her right breast, not just in the lump they’d removed. The biopsy indicated that it was a type of cancer that tended to spread rather than remain localized. Sherri held up her hand. “Wait. What are we talking about here?”
Dr. VanGilder looked up from the medical file and faced her. “I recommend a bilateral mastectomy.”
Sherri brought her arms up to her chest. “Both? But I thought the cancer was only in the right one.”
Dr. VanGilder stepped forward, closing the distance between them. A kind, but knowing expression on his face. “It is, although there are suspicious spots in the left I’m looking down the road.”
“And then after the surgery?”
“Depending on further test results, chemo and radiation. And once you’re healed, reconstruction.” He tried to give her a smile, but the situation didn’t seem to call for it. Instead, he let out a sigh. “When this is all over, we can give you the body you want.”
“But what if I want this one? It’s what I know.” Sherri shook her head and dropped her arms to her sides. “This isn’t fair.”
“Cancer doesn’t care about what’s fair, unfortunately.” Dr. VanGilder closed the file. “Sherri, obviously this is hard for you to take in, but the sooner we move on this, the better your chances are later.”
Mama reached out and took Sherri’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “When do we do this?” Sherri asked.
He checked his tablet. “I have an opening in two weeks.”
Sherri took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So soon? Too soon. She tried to swallow and tasted bile. What was she going to do? What was there to do but agree to the doctor’s recommendation? She agreed and appreciated Mama’s note-taking, since she didn’t hear another word that Dr. VanGilder said after that. Her mind instead insisted she’d do what she would have to in order to survive. Surgery? Fine. Chemo and radiation? Sure. Because she wouldn’t give up and give in to this disease. She would fight.
But she didn’t have to be happy about it.
* * *
THIS DAY COULDN’T arrive any sooner for Dez. He’d missed seeing Sherri on a daily basis, even though he’d been with her just days ago at her parents’ house. He kept watching the office door for her to enter. She’d promised to show as soon as she’d met with the surgeon. He kept his fingers crossed for good news. They could use some of that.
Noon was approaching and still no Sherri. His stomach reminded him that it needed attention. He glanced over at the office door. He could wait until Sherri arrived and then take her to lunch, so they could discuss what the doctor had said. Because her condition affected him as well as her.
She was his partner, and the job didn’t work without her. Maybe she’d phone and not come in after all. He turned to check on the captain in his personal office, but Phil didn’t seem to be doing anything except reviewing files and drinking coffee. She wouldn’t not call Cap, but if the news wasn’t great...
The office door opened and Sherri stepped forward. She looked... Angry? And maybe a little worried. He jumped up and got to her desk just as she slammed her purse down. She removed her handgun from the locked desk drawer and holstered it to her side. She winced a little, but apart from that looked the same. He watched her, waiting for her to say something. Ignoring him, she snatched the purse from the desktop and placed it in her drawer. She threw herself into the chair and looked up at him. “What?”
“I was going to ask how the appointment went, but I think I got my answer.”
Sherri pursed her lips and shook her head, the loose waves of her dark brown hair falling forward around her shoulders. She kept shaking her head and refused to talk until he put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “It’s going to change everything,” she whispered.
That was what he’d been worried about. “What’s next?”
“Double mastectomy. Chemo. Radiation. Reconstruction.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand how all of this is possible. It doesn’t make sense. It’s as if I’m trapped in some kind of nightmare. It all feels so unreal. I’m fit and healthy. I take care of myself. I just don’t get it. What did I do wrong?”
Dez was desperate to reassure her. “I don’t think cancer discriminates. It can happen to anyone.”
“Well, it sucks.”
Dez could only nod as she stared into space, lost in her worries. He wasn’t sure what else he could do for her, but he was willing to do whatever she needed. He’d sit next to her at chemo appointments. He’d bring her food when she could eat and hold her hair when she couldn’t keep anything down. He only wished he could take the cancer from her. To protect her from the ravages that the treatment would inflict on her body. That was one thing he couldn’t do.
Sherri rose to her feet. “I gotta go tell Cap I’ll be out for six to eight weeks while I recuperate from the surgery.”
Dez shot backward, almost tripping over a chair. “Six weeks without you here? No. I could barely handle a few days. You can’t.”
“No choice.” She took a deep breath and released it, but didn’t move from her spot. She seemed to focus in on him, offering him her hand. “I don’t think I can do this alone, Dez. Will you come with me?”
Anything for her. “And I’m telling him that I’ll be in the waiting room the day of your surgery. And any other day you need me. I’ll be there for you, Sherri. I promise.” He followed her into the captain’s office. The click of the door shutting behind them sounded like the end of something.
* * *
WITH TWO WEEKS to go until her surgery, Sherri made a list of things she would need to accomplish before then. Cases to close. Medical supplies to purchase and store for when she’d need them.
She met with her surgeon a few days before the op, and VanGilder went over every question she and Mama could come up with, as well as a few from Dez. As she left the office with instructions for presurgery, she glimpsed Dr. Sprader sitting in the waiting room. She gave a small wave to the ER doctor. “Are you seeing Dr. VanGilder, too?”
April nodded. “He’s one of the best.” She put a hand on Sherri’s arm. “How are you handling all this?”
“You saw my chart?”
“No, but you’re walking out of a surgeon’s office with a list of pre-op instructions. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”
“Right.” She glanced at the paper and showed it to April. “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“As one who’s gone through it already, I can give you some tips if you’d like.”
Sherri nodded. “That would be great.”
April acknowledged the nurse who had just called her name. “I should be finished here in about twenty minutes.” She dug through her purse and found paper and pen, then wrote out an address. She thrust the note into Sherri’s hand. “If you don’t have plans tonight, we can meet for dinner. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Sherri glanced down at the address and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Like I said, I’ve been where you are right now. Maybe I can make things easier for you.” April collected her things and followed the nurse out of the room.
Sherri drove to the address that April had written down and ordered an iced tea while she waited. She drummed her fingers on the wooden table and watched the entrance to the restaurant. She opened and shut the menu several times, not interested in food. She’d lost her appetite, which Mama warned her would hurt her recovery after surgery.
Maybe she could eat once the surgery was done. Because all she could think about now were knives and needles, and those took away any happy thought about enjoying a meal. She tried to ignore the images in her mind with a sip of her iced tea that the waitress had just brought over.
The door suddenly swung open and April bounced in, followed by another woman. Sherri waved them over. April pointed to the other woman. “This is Page. She’s going through breast cancer treatment, too, and I thought two heads might be better than one. The more information you have, the better you’ll feel.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t feel so great right now, to be honest.”
April placed a hand on top of Sherri’s. “I remember. But I promise that things will get better.”
Page shook her head and adjusted the scarf around what looked to be her bald head. “Don’t promise her things you can’t deliver, April.” Page glanced at Sherri. “April’s experience with this has been far different from mine. I think that’s why she invited me along. I didn’t have an easy time.”
April disagreed. “Hey, I didn’t, either.”
Page gave April a scolding look. “You breezed through it a lot more than I did.”
April frowned. “I wouldn’t say breezed. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” She reached up and touched her short, curly hair. “But I am on the other side of it now. The better side. It’s not nearly as scary. I know it sounds like your life is hitting a dead end, Sherri, but think of it as more like a detour. Your life isn’t over, and Page and I are proof of that.”
The waitress returned to the table, and they ordered their meals. After she left, Sherri brought out a small book and pen. “I figured I’d take notes?”
April nodded. “You’ll want to write things down as much as you can. And if you can’t, have someone else do it. There’s a lot that’s going to be thrown at you, and you don’t want to miss anything.”
“And if you don’t understand something, ask. There’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Page used her straw to stir the lemon in her water. “I’ve been a nurse full-time for six years, but there are still things that I had to ask.”
April spoke up again. “You’ll be wearing tops that either button or zip up the front for the first couple of months. Nothing you have to pull over your head. Check your closet now and stock up if you need to.”
“And get a bra that opens in the front.” Page glanced at April. “That’s what she recommended, and it was some of her best advice.”
Sherri wrote every single thing down. She watched as the two women reminisced about chemo goody bags and pillows kept in their cars to protect the scars when wearing a seat belt. “I didn’t realize all this stuff.”
“And they’re things the doctors can’t tell you because most of them haven’t experienced it. They can explain all about the medical supplies you’ll need and things like that.” April took the pad of paper from Sherri and then wrote down several more things. “But someone who has lived through it has a different perspective.” She handed the book back to Sherri.
Sherri read what April had added, and smiled at the phone numbers she’d listed. “My ‘in case of emergency’ numbers?”
“You’re going to have some bad days, and that’s when you call one of us. We can talk you through it.” April slipped an arm around Page. “She helped me through mine. I helped her through hers. And now we’ll help you.”
“Why?”
“Consider us your boob squad.” At Sherri’s downturned lips, April shrugged. “We’ll come up with a better name. The price of membership stinks, but remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. And when you’re ready, you can stop in at the Hope Center. There’s a lot of great resources there for women like us.”
The waitress brought their salads, and conversation paused until she left the table. Page leaned in. “Have a spokesperson to give family and friends updates so you don’t have to repeat the same details over and over.”
April chimed in. “And let everyone who offers to help you have a chance to do something. Even if it’s bringing over a pizza, or doing a load of your laundry. This isn’t the time to be independent. That will come later.”
Sherri stabbed a tomato, then looked from one woman to the other. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Page stared at her and swallowed. “Good. Because you’re picking up the tab.”
