even if i am. (22 page)

From:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]
Sent:
Thursday, March 2, 6:08 p.m.
Subject:
miss

jay was on the computer all morning,

cleaning up his pile of papers and getting himself together.

jane came over for lunch, and york showed up, too.

we biked down to the beach, had a great lunch,

and when we got back, Jay’s ex-girlfriend’s bike

was parked out back.

his door is ominously closed.

meaning i won’t get the chance to talk to him.

at least i can get on the computer and write.

doing laundry (separating all your frickin’ colors)

and getting ready to go to yoga. yeah, its been a good day.

although i feel like the lymph nodes in my shoulder

are bigger today than they were before,

although i’m probably getting neurotic.

miss you.

…

“I had this dream about you. You were shoveling snow.” The voice sifted through weak television speakers. “I… what?” replied Sarah Jessica Parker. “You were just a little girl in a flannel night gown, and you were shoveling snow from the walk in front of our house, and I was the snow. I was the snow. And everywhere it landed and everywhere it covered, you scooped me up with a big red shovel. You scoop me up.” My lips tightened at the actor’s earnest expressions, and my eyelids blinked at tears. I got up to get a glass of water. I don’t think you noticed as you stayed bundled in the Everest of blankets and pillows piled high on the couch.

I stood at the sink drinking my second glass of water. I wasn’t even thirsty but the act of drinking washed down my tears. I didn’t want to watch the movie, but I promised you it would be a night of snuggling. I jumped back under the afghan. You were thin. Your embrace felt bony.

Ten more minutes and the plot took a horrendous turn. If I had known that the mother would die of cancer, I wouldn’t have recommended it. Before I could suggest another movie, I felt you sobbing behind me. Your shoulders were shaking and tears streamed down your thinning face.

I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort you. Minutes passed.

“You are my big red shovel. You scoop me up.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They came pouring, splashing with each blink. After a few hard silent minutes you grabbed my cheeks with your wet hands, “You are my big red shovel.” I was looking up at you and nodding. “And I hate that I cannot be your big red shovel.”

The truth was heavy. I shook my head no.

“I’m not ready to lose you.” Your words filled the room.

chapter thirty-seven

orange sky

From:
[email protected]
To:
mother
To:
stepfather
To:
[email protected]
Sent:
Friday, March 3, 11:51 a.m.
Subject:
appointments

hey guys,

so here are my current appointments:

the biggest question for me is the usc oncologist.

i was given a rate of $400 for the appointment,

$117 for the facility fee, and anywhere from $0 – 500

for additional doctors needed to look at slides or scans.

so i’m looking at $500 to $1000 to get in the door

and just sit down with this person and be told

that we’re doing everything right.

i could discuss the idea of testing the cancer cells

to find what treatment would be most effective.

seems like something they should already be doing.

i’ll bring it up with my oncologist on tuesday.

calling my medical group tomorrow to find out

if there are other oncologists within my network,

but i’m skeptical.

went to see the hong liu, the qi-going master on tuesday,

and despite the seemingly hocus pocus quality of it,

i certainly felt different when i left.

have qi exercises to do and new tea and ginseng supplement

to incorporate into my current batch of treatments.

so that’s it from here.

i hope colorado is treating you well,

with long runs and short lift lines.

be well.

From:
mother
To:
stepfather
To:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]
Sent:
Friday, March 3, 11:51 a.m.
Subject:
Re: appointments

Sounds busy!

I would put the money on the visit to USC Oncologist…

Maybe your stepfather could help think through the questions that might be addressed to the USC oncologist?

I had a wonderful time with you, and Chas.

Two more voicemail messages from your grandmother…

I’ll write her this weekend.
Maybe you could send her a note.

Have fun with your brothers and friends this weekend.

Love ya,

Mama

“Hope you’re feeling better. We can’t both be feeling shitty at the same time. That goes against the whole co-patient system, and at least half a dozen metaphysical laws,” you claimed, then continued. “I still feel a little shaky. Maybe I need to eat more breakfast.”

“Shaky? Yes, eat something. Maybe no more green tea? Might be what’s causing the shakes, and diarrhea. Not good.” I could barely muster concern, but did my best. “I am knee-deep in work and it’s only ten. Wish I could be home in bed.”

“Maybe you should’ve called in sick?”

“I can’t afford taking more time off.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Hey, I was thinking it might be good for your stepfather to come for the next oncology appointment. He’ll have prepped notes and questions to ask the doctors that we won’t think of. It might be helpful?”

“Not a horrible idea.” This bit of conversation was filled with sighs.

“Although, I am tired of visitors. Are you?”

“So tired of out-of-towners. I can’t believe my brothers are coming. It’ll be great to see them, but I’m exhausted just thinking about it.” You puffed a sigh into the speaker of the phone. “I’m tired of appointments, too. Actually, I’m completely sick of appointments.”

“No kidding. Me, too.”

“Am I really going to the oncologist at USC? Why?”

“Cause it will be good. It’s the best care we can get. They did your surgery so they know everything about your case. Even if they suck, at least it’s not Dr. Apathy.” I was cautious, but believed my words.

“Wish you were here to kiss.” You loathed serious talk sometimes.

From:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]
Sent:
Friday, March 3, 11:51 a.m.
Subject:
breakfast

so what to eat for breakfast?

i need to find some new options

(and something to feed my brothers and his friends),

so i think i’m going to the grocery store this morning.

by the way,

i slept HORRIBLY last night.

yoga is the most likely candidate.

my lower back was sore before i even went to bed.

the boys get in at 5 p.m. (leave sunday at 10 p.m.)

and i’m excited to see them.

i would love for you to come over tonight

and get a chance to meet my brothers

before they have their friends around.

the whole weekend will be quality time, i assure you.

so what are some other breakfast ideas?

all i got are yogurt with berries and flax,

and eggs with spinach and tomatoes.

and i’m tired of them both.

already.

guess i could look in the nutrition book…

but complaining to you seems so much easier…

anyway, big day.

be well.

write/call/talk soon.

From:
[email protected]
To:
an[email protected]
Sent:
Friday, March 3, 1:26 p.m.
Subject:
Re: breakfast

well, I have to be honest with you…

I do want to meet your brothers and friends, but I’m not sure I’m up to spending the whole weekend with them. I’d be up for meeting you guys tonight, possibly spending the night… but then go home for the weekend. What do you think?

you really need to take a long, hot bath

to loosen up those muscles.

as for breakfast ideas:

oatmeal

cream of wheat (you loved it when you were in the hospital)

smoothies

fruit with cottage cheese (with flax, of course)

peanut butter and (sugar free) jelly

muffins (I need to bake some)

sugar free whole grain cereals

eggs with just about anything

did you get a chance to talk to Jay?

“I was going to tell you this morning, but you sounded busy.”

“What did Jay say?” I was more eager to hear than I would admit to you.

“He said he had thought about it a bunch, and still felt concerned about the space being too small for all of us. I asked what alternatives he had thought of, and he said he thought seriously about moving out, said he couldn’t live here with someone else.”

“Are you kidding?” I was agitated already.

“I wish. He got all teary-eyed and emotional about the whole thing and talked about how he’s feeling un-rooted in life right now, and doesn’t really know what the answer is.” You gave me a sincere look, asking with your eyes for me to sympathize. “Honestly, I know he’s going to come across sounding selfish again, but he seemed sincerely lost, overwhelmed, and struggling.”

I tried hard not to roll my eyes.

“I told him the answer to me feeling rooted is to have my girlfriend, my co-patient, living with me. It was my genius idea to then tell him about the conversation you and I had about babies… brilliant, right? Anyway, he starts really crying, and getting to the verge of a breakdown. So I changed the topic to the latest episode of ‘Lost’ and we slowly pull out of the emotional nosedive we were heading toward.” After a moment’s pause, you shrugged. “There was no conclusive understanding reached, but if I had to guess, I think we’re both moving out — you and I are finding a place together, and he’s finding a place alone.”

“Really?”

“Sad, right? I don’t really understand why he thinks three people in this house is a worse option than pulling the plug on the whole thing. The option does exist for you to move in. But I think the rent is too much for us, and I think we can find something nice for a significantly cheaper price tag.”

“Wow. So I guess that’s that?” I tried not to sound too smiling. I didn’t want to live with Jay, not after all this haggling over and justifying why a person with cancer should be allowed to cohabitate with his 24/7 co-patient girlfriend. It ought to have been obvious.

“I’ll talk to him again, after he’s thought about it a bit more. Maybe you can be there for the conversation.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“Are you still coming over tonight to meet my brothers and their friends?”

“Of course.”

“I understand passing on the rest of the weekend. Plus it’ll give me time to spend with them…”

…

They called themselves the gorillas, and your older brother was the troupe leader. He told stories with grunts, roars, growls, whines, chuckles, and hooting. I found it hard to believe you came from the same family. I studied your actions, discovering some similarities. So different in so many ways, yet you were a part of his troupe, too. You assumed your role. Just as you adored your mother, you adored him. He made sure you were safe and cared for. You stayed next to him and chuckled along with his stories, playing poker until dawn.

I petered out after eleven, overwhelmed by the whole gorilla energy. I woke to the sound of the blender making another round of margaritas at four in the morning.

From:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]
Sent:
Wednesday, March 8, 8:05 p.m.
Subject:
a song

this song just came on and reminded me of you…

"Orange Sky"
Alexi Murdoch

…

“He had to say yes, you didn’t give him much choice,” I fumed. “I completely understand if you want to keep living here with Jay. I won’t be hurt. Maybe we just keep things the way they are? I am starting to get used to the commute… or else I could look for a place closer to you.”

If Jay’s attitude had been different, I would have been open to his final decision to let me move in, but I didn’t feel welcomed.

Your hands settled on my shoulders as I chopped cucumbers . “Fuck. This started out so simple and now it’s a complicated mess. I hear everything you’re saying and I understand it. If I was in your position, I’d be saying the same things. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to live here — not like this.”

“I don’t even know how we’d both fit into this tiny room. And what will the landlord say to another person and a dog?” You were thinking out loud, but it only made me feel that the whole plan had been doomed from the start.

“I just don’t see this working.”

“But hearing Jay willing to try, wanting to make an effort, even if it was forced, it’s hard to say no…”