La Vie en Rose {Life in Pink} (26 page)

“Forever.” That way, they’d always be together, even when they couldn’t sleep side by side.

He nodded. “I like it.”

Marla, sniffing out affection, barged between them and nuzzled Riley’s neck. Rarity and Lexi bundled up and took the dog for a walk while Emma cleaned up and started breakfast.  Based on their supplies, they would be having eggless pancakes and orange juice, since she’d forgotten everything else at the market.

As she mixed the batter Riley slipped his arms around her waist and pressed his face to her neck, hugging her from behind. “I love all my presents.”

She grinned. “I planned on getting you more, but...”

He grunted. “You’re my favorite gift.”

She rested her cheek against the top of his head. It had been over a week since they’d slept together and she missed him. It was a strange place to be mentally, totally attracted to him, yet stuck in a body that seemed—at the moment—broken. He’d been really patient with her, but she didn’t want to add another strain to their relationship.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

He hummed and kissed her shoulder.

“Maybe tonight we can...”

“But...what about Starsky?”

Did it gross him out? “Does it bother you?”

“God, no, Emma. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. Just...pretend it’s not there.”

Mastectomy.

She winced, as the word unexpectedly flung into her head.

She just wanted a few minutes without fear, but that seemed impossible.  Her check up couldn’t come fast enough. Would he still love her if she lost her breast? The breath knocked out of her lungs and she gripped the counter.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she lied, a million times more fragile than she’d been a moment ago.

“Does something hurt?”

Only my heart.

She shook her head. “I’m okay.” Reaching for the bowl, she continued to mix the batter. Just breathe. Keep moving.

She couldn’t make assumptions until they spoke to the right people. Everything took time. Time...the one thing she’d never have enough of and the only commodity as precious as air. How did people deal with this sort of thing? Her mind couldn’t fathom the worst-case scenarios, though it tried often enough without her permission. How did people deal with tragic news, being told they only had a limited time to finish living?

Stop thinking like that. You’re fine.

All she could do was put one foot in front of the other, walk until she reached the end—or the next hurdle if that’s what would come. When she got to the hurdle, she’d run, but she couldn’t take that leap without getting there first, so there was no sense in rushing forward.

When Lexi and Rarity returned, breakfast was ready. They sat at the island and laughed over Emma’s terrible pancakes while sipping coffee and reminiscing. Marla was in heaven, having been thoroughly spoiled by her owners. Even Lexi gifted the dog with a special holiday bone.

Riley, too hyper to sit with the grownups, wandered around and took pictures of random objects with the Polaroid. It wasn’t quite the Christmas she’d imagined, but she loved it all the same. Judy Garland crooned about Christmas, promising their troubles would be far away by next year, and even that seemed a little too far away to count on, so she simply savored the now.

Emma committed that moment to memory, the way Lexi smiled at Rarity as she brushed a loving hand over her leg and laughed at some private joke. Riley drifting around the loft, shirtless in his pajama pants with her pink crossbow strapped to his back and that ridiculous monkey hat on his head. Marla, sound asleep in a puddle of drool on Rarity’s shoe surrounded by untouched dog treats.

It was the ‘this’ she and Riley had come to love. It was her everything, the quiet chaos, the dependable presence of friends, the easy expectations for shitty pancakes and quality coffee.
This
was her life. And though she had a long road of unknown hurdles ahead, she felt incredibly lucky to know ‘this’ right now.

As long as she had ‘this’ she could face anything. One step at a time, conquering one hurdle before thinking about the next.

Riley jumped into the kitchen, landing hard with both legs braced wide, startling the crap out of them. The pink crossbow aimed to the ceiling as his lucky sock monkey hat slid low on his head, and he shouted,
“I am Katniss Everdeen!”

He let out a battle cry, releasing one foam arrow after another, and ran into the living room, jumping from the coffee table to the couch until he slipped and fell with a boom, taking down the lamp and rocking the whole tree. “Oh shit...”

The three women collectively gasped as the tree tipped, landing on top of him with a crunch of branches as he grunted, “Mockingjay down.”

Rarity and Lexi, eyes wide, looked back at her. Emma simply smiled. “I love this.”

––––––––

“I
n
The Color Purple
there’s a line about God getting pissed off because people don’t appreciate how pretty purple is. Maybe that’s what God’s doing now, reminding us to stop and appreciate life before it’s gone.”

Riley forced a smile. “Maybe.”

Emma had been having a lot of those enlightened moments lately. She often expressed them, but he wasn’t sure if she was sharing them because she wanted him to hypothesize with her or because she wanted to reassure God she received the warning loud and clear, and would cease taking life for granted.

At the moment, as he drove her to her appointment, he didn’t give a lavender tinted fuck about the color purple. He wanted to punch God in the face and demand guarantees that his girlfriend was going to be all right.

“It’s up there on the left.”

“I know.”

Her energy had been high since that morning. He wasn’t sure how she was functioning, because neither of them slept the night before.  This was another example of how optimistic and good she was, thereby emphasizing how screwed up life could be, putting someone as undeserving as Emma through this.

I take that back. No one deserves this.
Maybe they were both making deals with a god they didn’t completely trust.

His head was a mess. He was angry and scared, overly emotional, and in some sort of bidding war with a Santa Zeus God he wasn’t sure existed. This might be happening to her, but it seemed like a way to punish him. For what, he wasn’t sure, but he was convinced it was his fault.

“There’s a spot.”

How was she so calm? He pulled the car into the parking space and shut off the engine. “You ready?”

“I waited the longest two weeks of my life for this.
Yes
, I’m ready. I want to get this over with and get back to normal.”

Terrified, he faced her and attempted a smile. They might never see normal again. “Then let’s do this.” They opened the doors and climbed out.

“Wait,” she called, rushing over to his side of the car.

She held up the Polaroid, angling the camera so the doctor’s office was in the background. “I want to remember this. When I look back from whatever happens next it’ll remind me to always appreciate life, even the rainy days.”

The bulb flashed and he blinked. He hadn’t had a chance to smile. She tossed the camera on the front seat and waved the picture. As it came into view she giggled. “Look at your face.”

He glanced at the photograph, ignoring his staggered expression. It didn’t matter. She was there, always smiling. “Look how lovely you are.”

It wasn’t her clothing or her makeup and that claw thing in her hair. It was her. She was just a lovely person, so silly and easygoing—most days. Sure she had quirks and got overly sensitive when he didn’t hang the dishcloth on the hook, but most of the time she was perfect.

She hummed, but her smile faded. “My looks might change, Riley. Getting this thing out might leave a scar.”

If that was all it left he’d consider it a win. “I’m not talking about your looks, Emma.” It was her spirit, right there, bolder than life, captured in a picture that he worried might be in jeopardy.

Once they stepped through those doors, everything could change, but he wasn’t worried about superficial blemishes. If it were up to him, he’d accept a thousand scars to know the threat was gone. But if this was something serious, he feared it would change the person she was on the inside a hundred times more than it could touch the person on the outside. He didn’t want her to lose that part of her, because those were the parts he loved most.

Everyone had a breaking point. What if this was hers? Whatever changes came, he hoped they were the kind she could handle.

Please don’t break her...

Her mood sobered as they entered the quiet facility and she started to fill out the multiple forms. There weren’t enough cheery paintings in the world to blot out the dread smothering that waiting room.
Fuck this place.

A lump formed in his throat as he watched her hand shake when she struggled to write their address. “Want me to do it?”

“That’s okay.” Letting out a frustrated breath, she shook her hand and continued writing.

He read her response to each question, finding it reassuring that no one in her immediate family had cancer. She never smoked and seldom drank. In his opinion, she was a healthy woman.

The longer the waiting lasted the more fragile she seemed. She fidgeted and fussed, trying to provide simple details like her age and the date of her last period. Finally, he took the clipboard and finished filling out the form for her. She breathed out a staggering sigh of relief and stared blankly as he returned the clipboard to the desk.

When he sat back down, she folded her hand around his and squeezed. She was scared.

“Emma?” a nurse called from the entrance to the exam rooms.

They stood and he considered vomiting in the fake ficus by the corner. They followed the nurse to a scale and Emma laughed. “I’m not that shameless. Turn around, Riley.”

He stared at an advertisement for some sort of prescription drug as the nurse took her height and weight.

“Good. Right this way,” the nurse said and they were moving again.

They entered a room and the woman instructed Emma to sit on the exam table. He sat in a chair in the corner while the nurse asked questions and strapped Emma to the cuff of a sphygmomanometer—totally shocked he knew the name of such a thing.

“So what brings you in?”

“I...uh...think I found a lump in my breast.” She spoke like she was unsure. There absolutely was a lump. They were there to find out what that lump meant.

“Have you ever felt a mass before?”

“No.”

“A lot of times a lump can be nothing more than fatty tissue, but it’s good you came in and great that you’re checking your breasts at home.”

She unstrapped her from the blood pressure cuff.  “Pressure’s a little high.” She reached in a drawer and produced a smock wrapped in plastic. “Put this on, open in the front, and the doctor will be in shortly.”

They were silent when the nurse left.

Emma deliberately removed her shirt and bra and peeled open the smock. Her shoulders hunched as she slid her arms through the sleeves as if she were physically shrinking from fear.

He swallowed, the tiny room not holding enough air for both of them to catch their breath. “It’s probably just tissue,” he asserted, repeating what the nurse said.

But something in his gut warned him that wasn’t the case. He’d felt it, again and again. There was definitely something solid there. He didn’t think tissue could feel like that.

The doctor came in, throwing everything into fast-forward with her cheery mood as if this was just another Wednesday. Her blasé attitude immediately pissed him off, like maybe they could wrap this up quick and go grab some frozen yogurt.

Once she breezed through Emma’s family history, confirming she ranked low risk according to statistics, she instructed Emma to lie back. The blood immediately drained from Emma’s face as she eased onto the table and he could tell the doctor was moving too fast for her as well.

The doctor stared at the wall as she examined Emma’s right breast. “This one feels fine.” She shifted to examine the left. Her brow wrinkled as her touch focused on the area where the lump was.

“Do you feel it?” Emma asked, voice strained.

“I feel something, but it’s most likely a cyst.” All too abrupt, the doctor stepped back and instructed Emma to sit up. “I’m going to write a referral for a diagnostic mammogram and a follow up ultrasound. Once your results are in we’ll go from there. But I wouldn’t worry. Like I said, at your age and with your family’s history, it’s probably a small cyst.”

Oh, she wouldn’t worry... Five minutes ago it was just tissue.

Emma smiled. “Thank you. That’s a relief.”

He frowned. A relief? They learned
nothing
! What the hell was the point of coming here? Now they had to wait for another appointment and then another one before they knew anything conclusive. Why did she look so relieved?

“Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll leave your referral at the front desk.”

The doctor left and Emma turned and beamed at him. “Did you hear that? It’s probably nothing. Just a cyst.”

He tried to smile and failed. “That’s great.” He needed a drink.

When they returned to the car he tried to calm down. He didn’t want to overreact and he seriously hoped it
was
nothing, but he wanted something a little more concrete than one drive-by opinion of a woman in a lab coat. He wanted someone to verify she was healthy!

Emma buckled her seatbelt and hummed. “I should text Rarity.”

“Maybe you should call and set up the appointment for the ultrasound and stuff. Who knows how long we’ll have to wait for that.”

“I will.” She texted Rarity.

When they got home he had to go to work. “Em, the office probably closes soon. Are you gonna call?”

“I will, Riley. I said I would.”

Biting his lips, he nodded. It wasn’t like her to procrastinate. “Okay. I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her as she stared at the television. “I love you.”