The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (38 page)

THE END

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Betty and Veronica

In sickness and in health...that's what best friends are for, right?

When Addison announces she has breast cancer, her best friend Rori knows she'll do whatever it takes to see her through it. Because after all, what's Betty without her Veronica?

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This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
 

Betty and Veronica

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2011 Elena Aitken

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except I the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Your support of author rights is appreciated.

Ink Blot Communications

Http://www.inkblotcommunications.ca

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Dedicated To Best Friends Everywhere

Chapter 1

“Veronica’s a fighter, right?”

Addison’s voice broke through my sun-drenched drowsiness. I lay on my towel, too content to even lift my head to look at her.
I could feel my skin sizzling.
Droplets of sweat slid down my back, to the towel. It was perfect. I needed to decompress from the realities of life and my crappy, entry-level job at the newspaper. The white sandy beaches of Panama were the perfect place, even if the annual vacation did leave me with an overworked credit card.
 

I refused to think about the bills I’d have to pay when I got home and let the sound of the waves lull me into a hypnotic state.
 

“What do you think? Betty or Veronica?”
 

“What?” I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to block out my friend’s voice.

“Betty or Veronica? Who’s your favorite?”

“Seriously? I’m trying to sleep, Addy.” I’d had one too many mojitos at the hotel bar the night before. I was not in the mood to discuss cartoons.

“You’re not sleeping, Rori. You’re suntanning. There’s a difference.”

“There’s not. It’s hot. I’m hungover. I want a nap.”
 
I tried harder to bury my head into my arms. “And I'm on vacation. Leave me alone.”

“Whatever,” Addison said as if she hadn't heard me. She probably hadn't. “I like Betty, but she can be kind of whiny, don’t you think? I mean, why would Archie choose her over independent, strong, Veronica?”

“Really? We're doing this right now?”

 
"Although,” she continued, “Veronica can be a bitch, always stealing Archie away from Betty. You really shouldn’t treat your best friend so badly.”

“You mean the way you’re treating me right now? I want to sleep.”
 

“Rori, this is serious. Betty or Veronica?”

I gave up on napping, hauled myself up to my elbows and glared at Addison through my dark glasses. As usual, she looked stunning in her teal bikini. She reclined on her elbows with her long, oiled legs stretched out in front of her. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose bun, her head tilted towards the sun.
 

“Where’s the comic book?” I asked.

“What comic book?”
 

“The one you’re reading.”

“Who said anything about a comic book? Really Rori, are you feeling okay?” She turned toward me then, lowered her sunglasses and winked. “It’s just a question. Betty or Veronica, if you could only choose one, who would it be?”

She didn't see the death stare I gave her. I “Okay, I’ll play your game.” We both knew I would. When it came to Addison, I always gave in. Always had. Since we were kids. I flipped myself over, aware of my less than lean body stuffed into my black one piece. “Betty,” I said.

“Really? She can be so pathetic.”

“Yes, but she’s also a true friend. She wouldn’t throw Veronica under the bus or back stab her.”

Addison shot me a look. “You don't have to be pathetic to be a true friend,” she said.
 

“No, but we're talking about stereotypes here, right? Fictional characters. I'd choose Betty.”

She turned back to the sun, angling her body a little bit. It was our third year coming to Panama. It had become an annual tradition since we graduated college. Everyone else went to Mexico or Costa Rica, but Panama was our little piece of untouched paradise. We could escape from our less than perfect jobs, relax under the palm trees and soak up the sun without being hit on by oversexed frat boys on spring break.
 

“But Veronica is strong willed, she has determination. I like that.” Addison declared.

“True.” I opened the cooler and took out a bottle of water. “Why are we talking about something so stupid?”

Addison ignored me. “They both have good qualities. Really, it wouldn’t be the same if you didn't have both of them, would it?”

“What wouldn’t be the same? Riverdale?”

“No, not Riverdale.” She looked at me as if I was the one who’d gone off the deep end.

“I’m totally confused,” I said.

 
“I’ve decided to name the girls.”
 

“The girls?”
 

“My boobs. So, this one is Betty,” she pointed to her left breast, “and this one can be Veronica.” She cupped her right breast. “I like that she’s strong, a fighter.”

“Seriously?” I almost choked on my water. “You don’t really seem like the tit-naming type. Besides, that’s something we might have done when we were thirteen, not twenty-seven.”

“I just thought if I was going to lose her, I should name her.” Her hand still cupped Veronica as she spoke. She started methodically stroking her thumb over the teal fabric.

“Pardon me?”
 
I sat up straighter.
 

She wouldn’t look at me.
 

“Addy, what’s going on?”
 

“Veronica here has a lump.” She squeezed her right breast.

I swallowed hard. Addison’s mom had died from breast cancer when we were sixteen. I remembered it clearly. It was an awful time. The only saving grace was that it happened quickly. “It could be nothing, Addy.” Hot tears pooled in my eyes.
 

“I already saw Dr. Dixon. It’s cancer, Rori.” She turned to me then. When she lifted her over sized black sunglasses up on her head I could see the fear in her blue eyes. “Kind of neat that he was Mom's doctor too, right? He promised to do a better job with me.”

“Addison. That's not funny.” A tear slipped out and slid down my cheek.

“Well, I'm not going to cry about it. That won't help.”

“You’re not going to die.” It was a lame thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything else. I stared at her dumbly for a moment before reaching out for her arm. It was hot and slick with tanning oil. I pulled her to me, crushing Betty and Veronica with my embrace.

She wasn't much of a hugger and to her credit, she let me squeeze her tight for a moment. She knew I needed it and even if she didn't want to admit it, she needed it too.
 

“Okay, that's enough.” Addy pulled away from me. Straightening the girls in her bikini top she jumped to her feet. “No more tears, they won't fix anything. I told you, I'm not going to cry.” She pulled the elastic out of her hair, and shook her long, dark tresses so they fell around her shoulders. She threw her sunglasses to the towel and said,
 
“It's so hot. I'm going to cool off. You coming?”
 

She didn't wait for an answer, she never did. Addison knew I'd follow her. I always had. She ran to the shoreline, splashing into the water in three giant strides and dove under the surf. She swam hard with even strokes, there was no current to worry about and she was a strong swimmer.

I watched her from the towel, still absorbing what she had told me. Addy wouldn't die.
 

She couldn't.

Chapter 2

“You have to do it, Rori.”

“No, I don't.” I refused to let her steamroll me.
 

We were sitting on my patio, me at the table and Addison in a padded lounger covered with blankets. We only had a about an hour before it got too cold for Addy to be outside. It was too hot during the day, and once the sunset, it cooled off quickly. Dr. Dixon said fresh air was good for her so I tried as much as possible to get her outside. Even for a few minutes.
 

“Please, Rori. I'm dying.”

I almost threw the book I was holding at her. “That's not fair. Plus, you're not dying.”

“Ok fine,“ she said. “But you have do it, for me. Please?”

“Addy, for God’s sake, I don't run. You’re the runner.”

She laughed then for real. “Yeah right. Like I could run right now. Look at me.”

I didn’t need to look at her, I hated looking at her. Her thick gorgeous hair was gone. Instead she wore a stylish baseball hat, studded with rhinestones. The hat hid her gleaming white head but often she went without it.
 

Once her hair started falling out, Addy immediately shaved it all off. She couldn’t stand the thought of watching it fall out strand by strand. Her once startling blue eyes, the one bright spot left on her face, still held their intense sparkle, but they were diminished by dark black smudges and the hollows where her cheeks should have been. Even I couldn't deny the striking physical change. And I'd tried.
 

“I'm too fat to run. I can't do it.” I tried to bury my face into my paperback. I was supposed to be reading the latest selection from my book group. It didn't matter how hard I tried, I could not seem to get into these books with all the hype, the ones that were supposed to give your life a deeper meaning. They bored me and half the time I found myself turning pages without actually reading anything. But the books did give me something to do during all of Addison's treatments and while I sat by her when she napped. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t leave her alone too long. What if she didn't wake up?

“Put that shit book down. This is serious.” Addison made a swatting gesture towards the paperback, but the effort would have been too great for her to reach it. I put it on my lap.
 

“I told you. I don't run.” Does this look like a runner’s body?” I waved my hands over my torso. “I'm too fat. You're the runner.”

“That's crap. Pass me that water, please?”
 

When we had come home from Panama, Addy had moved in with me. It made sense. My place was bigger, and she would need someone to help with her intense treatment schedule. Dr. Dixon was indeed trying to 'do a better job' with her and he’d planned a vigorous regime of chemo and radiation. He would never say so, but I think having lost her mother, he would consider it a personal failure if he couldn't save Addison.

Addy was an only child, which meant that when we were kids, her house was always a quiet refugee from the chaos of my life with three brothers. But it also meant that when her mom died, Addy’s house got even quieter. Her dad never really recovered after losing her mom and he threw himself into work instead of focusing on his daughter. In high school, she spent so much time at our house, my mom would automatically set another place at the dinner table for her.
 

I’m not sure she even told her dad about her cancer. She didn't want to talk about it, and all she said about it was that she didn’t want him to worry about her and she wouldn’t put him through it again. I didn’t mind helping her. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Besides, I would gladly put my life on hold if it meant Addy would have one.

“Are you warm enough?” I asked her as I reached for her water glass. I pinched the straw between my fingers so it was easy for her to grasp.
 

“You're not fat,” she said between sips. “You're beautiful. You have curves, and they're stunning. I envy your curves. Always have.” She pushed the water away and sank back into the cushions.

“So says the size two supermodel. You don't get it. Addy...when I run, there's jiggling where there shouldn’t be. And this thing called chafing. Not so good when you're my size.”

“You need the right clothes.” She tried to laugh but it sounded hollow and raspy. The effort made her cough. “Haven’t I always said, it’s about the gear? Besides, I'm not a size two.” She lifted back the blanket on her lap, revealing her new, skinnier figure. Her legs, once muscular and strong weren’t much more than skin and bones sticking out from her shorts. The t-shirt she wore, that had once been tight and fitted, hung loosely on her frame. It was noticeably flat on the right side.

 
“I'm sorry,” I said. I wanted to look away, but her eyes held me. I knew how she felt about those who avoided her now. Our friends who suddenly were ‘too busy’ or ‘working late’ and couldn’t come to visit. And those friends that did come but wouldn’t look at her. Staring instead at the wall just past her head. I knew it hurt her. She never said so, she didn’t have to.