On Grace (24 page)

Cameron is crying now and I can picture her gesturing wildly with her hands, which is something she does once in a while. Always when things are really bad. Cameron is also not one to cry. Suddenly I’m panicked, but I realize that if she’s not holding it together, I need to.

“Oh, Cam. Okay. I’m coming down there. I’ll go to your appointment with you. I can’t imagine how scared you must be right now.”

“I’m not scared, Grace,” she interrupts angrily. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m pissed that I can’t have a baby, and I’m pissed that I have cancer. This is so fucking unreal.”

“I know, Cam,” I try to sound calm. I’m pacing my family room, trying to hold back tears.

“No, Grace. You don’t know,” she says with a tone in her voice. She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m taking this out on you,” she says, crying quietly.

“It’s okay, Cameron,” I say, and it is. “I know I can’t understand how you’re feeling, but I want to come and be with you. You don’t have to do this test alone.”

“It’s okay,” she says calmly. “Jack is coming. In fact, I see him walking down the street right now. I’m gonna go, Grace. I’ll call you when the test is over. I’m so sorry I got angry at you.”

“It’s okay. Please call me. I’m worried about you, and I want to know what’s going on. Promise me you’ll call me.”

“I will. I promise,” she says and hangs up.

All of a sudden, tears are streaming from my eyes and my breathing quickens. I can’t believe this is happening. Cameron is right: a miscarriage and possibly—she may be certain it’s breast cancer, but I’m not going there until there’s a definitive diagnosis—cancer in one week. It’s unimaginable. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m tempted to go to Mount Sinai and be with her during the test, but I also don’t want to impose. And Jack is there. I can’t imagine what must be going through Cameron’s mind. Actually, I can.

Whenever I would tell Cameron about my theory that because my life has been pretty excellent and, because of that, I fear some horrible thing will happen to me, she laughs at me. My realistic, cynical, decidedly unsentimental friend thinks that’s a bag of baloney. She believes that what happens, happens, and it’s not worth worrying about the unknown or borrowing trouble. It comes soon enough. So I
can
imagine what’s going through her mind. Probably something like, “This sucks, but I’ll deal with it.” I just know the initial shock has completely thrown her. But, true to Cameron’s form, she’ll probably find out her diagnosis, and if she does have cancer, she’ll deal with it. Although I can’t be sure that she’ll deal with cancer the way she deals with everything else. It is, after all, cancer.

It blows my mind how many people our age are getting sick. It used to be that I’d hear of my parents’ friends getting cancer, and it was sad and all, but they were in their 70s and 80s, and that’s just what happens. But thirty- and forty-year-olds? That’s an entirely different story. And wondering how and why she got it is useless at this point. What matters is that my best friend might have cancer, and I will be by her side throughout the entire thing. I’m petrified. My mind, of course, goes straight to the worst-case scenario, but I shudder and don’t let myself go all the way there. I’m completely stunned by what just happened. And I want to talk to Darren.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t want to talk to me as evidenced by two unreturned phone calls and three unanswered emails I left him. I basically said the same thing in all of them: that he has no right to be mad at me. So I decide to try again. But this time I change my strategy and acknowledge his feelings, so we can try to move on.

Dear Darren,

I’m having a hard time understanding why you’re so angry at me, and I think if you really understood what happened—that
nothing
happened—you wouldn’t be so mad. So, I want to get a few things straight.

First, I never set out to have any sort of relationship with Jake. He contacted me as a friend. Unfortunately, it was right after you told me about your indiscretion, so I was vulnerable and angry. The attention he paid me felt good. Since you had made me feel so badly, his kindness was salve on an open wound. And then I just continued justifying my actions because it was a sort of payback to you for what you did to me. Second, I never gave Jake any impression that I was interested in having any sort of relationship with him. Third, I am not planning on interacting with him in the future. Our marriage is more important to me than reconnecting with someone from my distant past.

What I need you to understand most is that I’m not sure I would have been able to get to where I am with you right now—wanting to make our marriage work—if it hadn’t been for what I experienced with Jake. You told me in the long email you wrote me while I was in L.A. that it felt good to have an attractive woman want you. Well, I guess I felt the same way. But what I realized is that I didn’t want that person, just like you didn’t want the cocktail waitress. I want
you
, Darren. I want our marriage. I want our family. It’s basically finding out that, though that grass over there might have looked a bit greener from where I was standing, once I got up close, it was a pretty lousy substitute for my own lawn. Whatever
you
may think, and again, for the record,
I
think you totally overreacted, I didn’t actively set out to punish you by talking to Jake and seeing him in L.A. (which, again for the record, was in a big group; we didn’t go out alone). I really did go there for Scotty’s party, to see my mom and sister, and to have some time to think. But I think it could have been the thing that saved our marriage. I’m still very angry at you for what you did, but I think now we can understand each other better, understand ourselves better, and use that knowledge to move into the next stage of our marriage. And I feel confident that having been through what we’ve been through, it will, I hope, prevent anything like this from ever happening again. Let’s start being us again.

There’s something else I want to discuss with you but I would rather do it on the phone, so can you please call me when you have a chance? I love you.

I press “send.”

I didn’t want to tell him about Cameron in the email because I felt wrong typing it. I need to talk to him though. I sit there for a few minutes wondering what to do next. My inbox chimes. It’s from Darren.

Grace,

I realize this may seem all hunky-dory and eye-for-an-eye to you, but I don’t see it that way. It may be a double standard, but I’m just having a hard time thinking that what you did was okay. You know what I did didn’t mean anything to me. But you have a personal relationship with this guy, and that is just not okay with me. I am having a really hard time understanding how you could have done that to me, how you can think that your kiss wasn’t a big deal, and how you can act like wrong plus wrong equals living happily ever after. It’s not that simple.

I am speechless. I am staring at my computer, and I am frozen and speechless. And I don’t know why I completely misjudged how Darren would react to this. I try to put myself into his shoes. Was what I did equal to or even worse than what he did? Am I simplifying it and telling him we both did something wrong, so let’s just forget it now and move on? No. And no. But his ego seems to have been annihilated, and from what I understand about men, that is torture. Holy shit. Here I was thinking that all I had to do to move on with my marriage was to tell my husband that I forgave him. I can’t believe how messed up this has all become.

My email chimes again and it’s Cameron.

Hey Grace. So sorry I blew up at you. In waiting room with Jack. This is so surreal. I can’t believe this is actually happening to me. I know you, so I know you’re freaking out right now. But please don’t. We will deal with this, whatever it is. I promise. Will be in touch later. Cam

I write Cameron back and tell her I’m here for her. For everything. I feel like I have just been pulverized by a huge wave. I am fighting the powerful water to get upright and push to the surface for air. My marriage. My best friend. It’s all too much. The tears unleash, and I am sobbing uncontrollably. And there’s only one thing that I know will make me feel better: sleep. I go upstairs and set my alarm for right before the bus will come. It takes me a while to stop my brain from all the thinking, but eventually the exhaustion prevails, and I fall asleep. Just before I do, I think again about perspective. Right now, my life, in perspective, sucks.

“Thanks for coming, Grace,” Jack says as he opens the front door. “I wish I could stay home with her, but I’m in surgery all day.”

“Of course, Jack. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I just can’t believe this is all happening.”

“I know. But, we’ll hope for the best with the biopsy results, and we’ll deal with whatever it is,” he says. He attempts a smile, but I know it’s for my benefit.

“How does Cameron seem?” I ask.

“Pretty lousy physically, but you know Cameron, she can manage through anything.”

“Yes, I do know Cameron. But this is all too much for anyone,” I say, as I notice his eyes welling up. “Okay, you go. I’ve got her. I’ll touch base with you later to let you know what’s going on.”

“Thanks, Grace,” he says as he gives me a hug and rushes out.

“Hey, Grace,” Jack stops and turns around, suddenly remembering something.

“Yeah?”

“I talked to Darren last night. He told me what’s going on,” Jack says carefully.

“I’m sorry he did that,” I say. “You have enough on your plate to deal with right now.”

“It’s okay. I asked him how you guys were. I needed to be distracted with someone else’s problems for a while,” he laughs.

I return the smile. “It’s all pretty much a disaster now. I thought he would realize pretty quickly that what I did doesn’t come close to what he did and that, in fact, it was all a complete reaction to what he did. But he’s taking it really hard.”

“Remember when I told you about what happened to me at the medical conference?”

“Yeah,” I say, recalling how he had just been sober enough to cut off a potential infidelity.

“Well, I didn’t tell you the absolute truth because I was too ashamed. But I’m going to tell you now.”

“Okay,” I say, not sure about what’s coming next.

“I actually did start to kiss the woman. But like you, from what Darren told me, I stopped it right away. I still felt badly enough about it to tell Cameron. And I was surprised that she blew it off, but that’s Cameron and thankfully, she didn’t think it was a big deal.”

I’m stunned that Cameron never told me.

“I begged her to never tell you. I didn’t want you and Darren to think less of me. But I told him about it last night. And I told him that I thought that what you did does not equal what he did.”

“Wow, Jack. I don’t know what to say.”

“He certainly didn’t like my taking your side. But I think hearing it from me made him think about it a little differently. And to be honest, with all that’s going on with Cameron and how fucking scared I am about it all, I think it’s pretty ridiculous that you guys should spend one more day being mad at each other. We have to hang on tight and cherish what we have. Because in the blink of an eye, it can all be taken away,” Jack says and starts to cry.

I give him a big hug. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him. But I’m so appreciative for what he told me. For what he told Darren.

“Did you tell Darren about what’s going on with Cameron?” I ask.

“I didn’t get the chance,” Jack says. “We were talking about you guys, and then he got a call from work and had to go.”

“I tried to tell him yesterday and asked him to call me, but he wouldn’t. I’ll call him again later.”

When I get to Cameron’s room, she’s in bed watching TV and laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Have you ever seen these shows where these brides-to-be go to Kleinfeld’s to buy a wedding dress, and little do they know, but the salespeople who are the reality stars are totally talking shit about them behind their back. It’s hilarious.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m sore, but I’m fine. I don’t really need to be in bed, but I just feel shut down. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think this is what normal people would call a physical and emotional breakdown,” Cameron says as she puts the TV on mute and sits up in her bed.

I open the bag I brought with coffee and muffins, and spread it out on her bedside table.

“Thanks, Grace,” Cameron says. “You really are a good friend.”

“You would do the same for me,” I say.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be nearly as patient,” she laughs.

“How was the procedure?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee and making my way over to Jack’s side of the bed.

“It was kinda horrifying. I don’t think I was numb enough, so I felt pressure. It felt like a crochet hook going into my breast. Not fun. But it was relatively quick, and now it’s over, so it’s not worth thinking about.”

“Well, I’m just sorry that you have to go through all this.”

“Me, too. But I’m not having any sort of pity party. Plus, I don’t, at this point, have anything yet to feel pitiful about. For all I know, I could be cancer-free. So I might as well enjoy it until I get the phone call from Shannon.”

“What time did she say she’d call with the results?” I ask.

“Late morning.”

“Okay. Soon.”

“Yeah. It can take up to a week for people to get biopsy results back. Shannon really went to bat for me.”

“I’m glad you don’t have to go through the nightmare of waiting,” I say.

“Me, too. So, anyway,” Cameron says with a shake of her body—a release, of sorts, of cancer talk. “What’s going on with you? I don’t even know what happened in L.A.,” Cameron says, smiling and taking a bite of a banana chocolate-chip muffin, her favorite.

“Oh, L.A.,” I say with an exhale. “I don’t even know where to start.” Jack had told me as we were saying goodbye this morning that he didn’t tell Cameron what he had discussed with Darren, so I knew she knew nothing.