Doctor Rhett’s smile falls a fraction as his eyes cloud with concern. “It’s been a crappy forty-eight hours.”
If I ever had the urge to cuss, even internally, now would be that time.
“Okay. I’ll go see what I can do.”
I walk along the hall and slow at the door to her room. I take a deep breath and prepare myself, because I find the need to protect myself, even though it’s unforgivably selfish.
I’m healthy. I’m out.
Marcie isn’t.
I knock on the door with gentle taps, but I don’t wait for her to call me in. Pushing the heavy door open and closing it again with a softsnick, I slowly move the gray and blue curtain aside and step into the room I once lived in.
The girl in my old bed is only seventeen years old. She used to have mahogany hair that hung all the way down to her butt, but it’s long gone. I study her now and paste on the best smile I can manage.
Marcie’s lips are dry and cracked, her bald head painfully pale. She wears unicorn pyjama pants and a button-up shirt, but her port-a-cath hangs outside of the fabric and brings that prickling feeling to the backs of my eyes. Her eyes look larger than they are because of her lack of hair, but she wears a lovely set of fake lashes that I know make her happy.
“Good morning, beautiful. Can I visit with you?”
“Of course.” Frowning, she clears the croakiness from her throat and tries again. “Come sit with me, Red. You’re early.”
“But I bring gifts.” I shake the bag again, drop my handbag on the visitor chair, then climb onto Marcie’s bed so we sit knee to knee, facing each other. “Do you want blue icing or pink?”
“Pink?”
She says it like a question, but there’s no way I won’t grant her simple wish.
I take out two iced donuts and set them on the paper bag they came in. Clapping my hands together as though to brush flour off them, I look up and smile. “Now, eat up and tell me what’s going on.”
Marcie’s left wrist is bruised and swollen from the billion times they’ve pricked it with needles, but she reaches out with deft movements and picks up her treat. “Not much happening here. I have chemo this afternoon.”
“You ready for it?”
She scoffs and waves me off, but it’s fake. It’s all fake. “I’m always ready. Mom and Dad will be here around midday, then they’ll come sit with me for the afternoon.”
“Good thing you get a donut then, huh?”
“Right?” Snickering, she takes a hefty bite and grins with pink teeth. “If you brought this tomorrow, I might have hated you. How’s life on the outside?”
I take a much smaller bite and laugh. “Things are good for me. The guys are still being annoying, but they’re the guys, so it’s expected.”
“But Mitch is a cutie, huh? I see him sometimes when he transports someone up here.”
“Mitchell is twice your age, Marcie! Quit that.”
The girl giggles until it turns to piggy snorts. “But he’s so dreamy.” She stops laughing, and gives a pathetic, dramatic sigh. “So dreamy. Only seven more months until I’m an adult.”
“Marcie…”
“Do you think he’ll marry me when I turn eighteen?”
“Marcie!” I smack her blanket-covered knee, but that only makes her fall into piggy snorts all over again. “No, he will not marry you when you’re eighteen. He is a grown man, and I’ll kill him if he’s looking at you that way. What about that boy from school? He likes you.Andhe’s your age.”
She sobers up much too fast. “He doesn’t come up here anymore. He stopped liking me when this round of chemo began.”
“Oh, honey.” My chest aches as I lean forward. “I’m sorry.”
“Guess he likes girls with hair and no expiration date.”