The Day That Saved Us (35 page)

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Authors: Mindy Hayes

BOOK: The Day That Saved Us
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BROOKE AND I
walk into our empty apartment and she squeals. “Oh my gosh, I love it!”

It’s a one bedroom, open floor plan. I got lucky and was able to rent a corner apartment of the building, so we’ve got lots of windows. The kitchen is right off the entryway and has exposed brick walls. Brooke runs her fingers over the red brick by the door.

“It’s not much, but it’s what we could afford.”

“It’s ours. It’s perfect.” She kisses me and smiles. “Wait. We have to make our first kiss in our first apartment memorable.”

I pick her up and Brooke makes a noise of surprise as she wraps her arms around my neck. I walk us out of the empty apartment, and then walk back through the doorway. She’s giggling when I bend my head down to kiss her the right way—long and thoroughly. Her hands find my face and hold my mouth in place.

After I pull back, she licks her lips and grins. “That will do.”

“Well, the boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves. Shall we go retrieve them and get started?” I ask and set her down.

“Yes! Let’s do this.”

Before I walk out the door I shoot Peyton a text.

 

Me:
Safe and sound.

Pete:
Thank you! I was beginning to worry.

Me:
Nothing to worry about. We’re going to unpack and get settled in.

Pete:
Send pictures when you’re all done!

 

I send her a thumbs up emoji.

 

 

“THAT’S THE LAST BOX!”

Brooke flips on some music and jumps onto the couch. I can’t believe we’ve unpacked the last box. I thought it would never end. We’ve spent all day moving, and since we haven’t been grocery shopping we ordered take out twice. We now have Chinese and pizza boxes all over the kitchen, but it looks right. Lived in.

The apartment could hardly hold the boxes we brought, but now that everything is out and found its place, I wonder what filled up so many boxes. We’ve set up a white bookshelf with our combined collection of books in the main room. Brooke’s placed everything carefully on the shelves with bookends and sculptures. We’ve got a kitchen table that looks more like it belongs in a dollhouse, but it’s perfect for the size of our kitchen. She got some pictures of us framed and made a few collages on the walls in our living room. Our couch is a tan futon, but at least it serves multiple purposes.

Home sweet home.

Brooke dances in her tank top and a pair of old, black gymnastics shorts. I know they’re gymnastics shorts because Peyton used to wear the same ones to her gymnastics practices after school. Brooke flashes her beaming green eyes at me. She laughs like she’s never been happier. We bring that out in each other. She grabs my hand and pulls me onto the couch to dance with her. We’re going to break this thing before we even use it. Her off-key singing begins, and I laugh because I love the way she sounds. Carefree and unapologetic. Her happiness has the ability to make up for what I lack.

 

 

 

 

 

EVERY WEEKEND SINCE
we moved to Boston has been jam-packed. Brooke hasn’t left time for anything but tourism. Which is great if you’re her and don’t work during the week yet. I understand she’s ready to explore and get out of the house by the time the weekend comes. By Friday, I’m exhausted. I need a veg day, but I don’t say a word. I keep a smile on my face, and do what I can to make her happy.

She’s applied for several different engineering positions around Boston, but hasn’t had any offers yet. I know she’s getting discouraged. Not having a job means not contributing to our living expenses. Every day she tells me how she doesn’t want me to think she moved here with me so I could pay for everything.
I’m not a mooch.
I know that, but she’s stressed about it nonetheless. It’s my job to reassure her and tell her a position will come along.

 

 

AND THEN, ONE
day in early March, Brooke jumps up and down in the middle of our living room after she gets off the phone. “I got the job at Dewberry!” She bounces over to me and throws her arms around my neck.

“Babe, that’s awesome! I knew you would.”

“That interview process was so intense, though. I applied, what, like a month ago?”

“Yeah, but it worked out.” I hold her waist, keeping her close to me. “When do you start?”

“On Monday.”

“See.” I kiss her lips. “I told you it would all work out.”

“I know, but you know how much it means to me to be able to stand on my own.”

“I do. It’s one of the things I love about you.” I yawn, and for some reason Chewbacca comes out.

Her eyebrow rises. “What was that?”

“Chewbacca,” I say incredulously. Please tell me she knows who Chewbacca is.

“No, I know who it is. I just don’t understand why you did it.”

I shrug. I’m not even sure when I learned how to make the sound. I really only used to do it to make Peyton laugh. “It’s just a fun sound to make.”

Brooke nods, but she’s looking at me like I’m crazy. I guess I won’t do my Chewbacca impression around her.

“So…” I let go of her and walk into the kitchen to grab a drink, “My mom’s birthday is next weekend. I’m thinking of surprising her.”

“Well, dangit. Now you tell me. I won’t be able to get time off to go with you!”

“I know, but it’s okay. My mom will understand. You getting that position is more important than coming home with me.”

 

 

 

 

 

MY FLIGHT INTO
Charleston gets in around eight o’clock. After I see my mom, I decide to go say hi to my dad. When Peyton opens the door in a yellow sundress that matches her hair, I’m taken aback. Her lips are glossed in pink. She smiles warmly. “Brodee!”

It’s all it takes. Like a riptide, she pulls me back in. She can’t help it. She doesn’t even mean to do it. It’s just who she is. Peyton. My riptide.

I smile back at her. “Hey, can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure. Come in, come in.” She opens the door wide. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to surprise my mom for her birthday. The big fifty.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot the dinner was this weekend! This wedding planning is frying my brain. I don’t know how many cells I’ll have let by the time I’m done. A month, Brodee. That’s all we have left. So much to plan with so little time, but I only have myself to blame.”

I follow her into the kitchen where she sits at the square table with Olivia. Magazine clippings cover the entire table.

“Well, look who it is.” Olivia’s face lights up. I’m reminded where Peyton gets her eyes.

“Hey, Liv.” I sit down with them.

“We’re trying to decide on a cake,” Peyton says and shuffles some clippings.

I look closer and see that’s all that’s on the table. Cake. I didn’t even know you could decorate a cake so many different ways.

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s really not.” I’m sure there’s some organization here, but I can’t decipher it. “There are so many different themes to choose from, and the more I find that I like, the more confused I get. I hadn’t realized I was such an indecisive person until I started planning this wedding.”

“Ha. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

She looks up from the cakes. “Did Brooke not come with you?”

“Nah, she couldn’t get off work.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I was hoping to hang out with her at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Yeah, she was bummed, but only working at Dewberry for a week didn’t give her much leeway. She didn’t feel like she could ask for time off.”

“Totally understandable. What is she doing?”

“She got a structural engineering position, and she loves it already.”

“Good!” Peyton is overly enthusiastic. It’s weird. She turns her attention back to the magazine clippings. “The job market is so hard to get into right now. I’m so glad she was able to find something so quickly.”

“Me too. Is my dad around?”

“He had to work late today, so he won’t be home until after ten,” Olivia says.

I nod. Though, as much fun as this is, I have no desire to pick out wedding cakes with them, so I stand. “I just wanted to come and say hi. I’ll let you two get back to the planning.”

“Oh.” Peyton gets up. I can tell she was expecting me to stay longer, but this is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Seeing the wedding planning is different than hearing about it. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“What are you doing tomorrow before my mom’s birthday dinner?” I ask when we reach the front door. “Maybe we can go get some lunch or something?”

“Don’t forget about your appointment at ten, Peyton,” Olivia hollers from the kitchen.

“Yeah. I know, Mom.” Her eyes roll as she sighs. “Thanks for the tenth reminder.”

“You’ve got to meet with a wedding planner or something?”

Olivia walks in and looks pointedly at me. “She has a doctor’s appointment. She hasn’t told you?”

“Mom,” Peyton warns.

“He’s family. He deserves to know, Peyton.”

I look between the two women as they have an argument with their eyes. It doesn’t seem like an argument I want to get between, but I want to know what Peyton is hiding from me. Doctor’s appointment.
Oh hell.
She’s pregnant, isn’t she? I can’t find my heart. It sank deep inside my chest. I lost it.

“What’s going on?” I press. She can’t be. Please tell me my brain is overreacting. I’m just getting used to the idea of their marriage. A Peyton and Tyler baby is not something I want to even imagine.

“Tell him,” Olivia directs, her finger pointing at me like Peyton needs to ‘fess up to a crime. She must be getting pointers from my dad.

“Mom,” she hisses.

Olivia gives her The Look. I’ve seen The Look many times. It’s Olivia’s no nonsense face. If Peyton doesn’t tell me, Liv will.

Peyton exhales heavily and looks at me. Before she says it, I know I’m not going to like this appointment. I’m going to hate this appointment with a passion. “I have an appointment with my oncologist.”

It takes me a second to remember what an oncologist does. An oncologist is not an obstetrician. So, she’s not pregnant.
Phew
. My brain starts to pick up again. Oncologist, oncologist… When I know, I feel my body collapse, but somehow I remain standing.

“I have ovarian cancer,” she continues. “It’s probably completely treatable. Nothing to worry about. Tomorrow I have an appointment to discuss the form of treatment we’re going to proceed with.”

I clasp my hand over my mouth before I let out a cry and exhale. “Peyton, why didn’t you say something before?”

Olivia slowly retreats back into the kitchen, understanding this is now a conversation only between Peyton and me.

Peyton waits until she’s gone and calmly says, “Because it’s not that big of a deal, and I don’t want people to treat me differently.”

“Not a big deal? It’s definitely a big deal.”

“This.
This
is why I didn’t want to say something.” She points at me like I’m the one to blame for her condition.

I speak as normally as I can manage with every part of me screaming on the inside. “I’m sorry. How bad is it?”

“I don’t know yet. The doctor seems to think we caught it early enough, but that’s what the appointment tomorrow is supposed to help determine.”

I’m having difficulty finding the right words. I don’t want to cry in front of her. That won’t help matters. “You shouldn’t have kept it a secret from me.”

“I’ve kept it from everyone, Brodee. I haven’t even told Harper. So, don’t you dare go blabbing your mouth to Skylar. I mean it. My mom, Nick, and Tyler know. That’s it. This stays here until I know more. I want to give people good news.”

“Peyton.” The way I say her name says everything. I can’t lose you like this. I hate cancer. I’m so scared.
Please don’t leave me.

“I would have told you eventually,” she says softly.

“When? After you were treated or have surgery or whatever? Or once it got worse? We both know you were never going to tell me.”

Peyton’s eyes shy away from me. “I would have figured out something before then.” I know she’s lying.

“How long have you known?”

She scratches her temple. “About a month. When I went to see my OB/GYN for an annual visit, they knew something wasn’t right. They referred me out.”

A month?
So, the whole time I’ve been in Boston living life and traipsing around the city sites, she’s been here suffering. If I’d been here…

“Tyler isn’t here to go with you to this appointment?” I know I sound judgmental, but if she were my fiancé, I wouldn’t miss one single appointment with her oncologist. Not only for support, but for fear that she’d leave something out. Because clearly, she’s good at keeping secrets.

“He’s busy in North Carolina. Something happened at his dad’s office that kept him there. He couldn’t get away. But it’s fine.”

I’d risk losing the job before I let her go without me. His dad has to understand. And so I decide. “I’m going with you.”

“Brodee, it’s fine.” Her reassurances mean nothing. “I don’t need you to come with me. I told you, it’s a simple appointment. I’ll tell you all about it when I’m done.”

“I’m going.” I open the front door before she can keep arguing with me. “And if you even think about leaving without me I’ll just ask Olivia where and who it’s with. She’ll tell me. I’ll be there no matter what.”

“Fine,” Peyton snaps.

“Fine.” I close the door behind me.

I didn’t leave so she couldn’t give me no for an answer. I left so I could rush home, to hole myself away in my room. When I shut my bedroom door, my body falls against it. My legs give out, and I slide down to the floor. It’s then that I cry. My head falls into my hands, and my body shakes with each strangled breath that tries to leave my lungs.

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