Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) (48 page)

Jesus Christ, he was suggesting termination.

“Halle.” The quiver was evident in Tweet’s voice.

Dr. Lang looked up, having not heard what she said. “Excuse me?”

“Her name is Halle Elizabeth,” I answered.

“So names…,” Tweet said, tossing a French fry in her mouth.

We just spent half the day at the store registering for all things baby. When Tweet told me this was how we were spending our day, I figured it’d be a quick trip. Four and a half hours later, we were finally at lunch. My head still spinning from the amount of baby paraphernalia.

“…For her middle name, what do you think about Elizabeth?”

A huge grin spread across my face. “My mom’s name. She’ll love that. Any ideas on the first name?”

“I want it to be something you don’t hear a lot, but not weird.”

“Exactly, no fruit or body parts.”

“A name that means something special to us. You’re good at naming things.” She winked and tapped the side of my leg with her foot under the table.

I narrowed my eyes, not understanding what she meant.

“You gave me a fantastic name.”

I chuckled. “Tweet is pretty awesome. And I was just a dumb kid when I came up with that brilliance.”

“You held my hand the entire night we trick or treated.”

“I was a smooth little dude.”

“Maybe something related to Halloween?”

“If you’re thinking about naming our daughter Candy, then we need to go back to the store and add stripper pole to the list.”

Tweet sat back in the booth, looking up as if the name would appear in midair. “Halloween… Halloween… ween… ween… ween. Hallo… Halla… Halle.”

Our gaze locked on each other.

“Halle Elizabeth!”

“I’m having our baby.” Tweet’s tone was determined.

“Amanda, you know the chemo drugs are aggressive. The risks would be extremely high to the baby.

Her name is Halle.

“Then I won’t have the chemo until after she’s born.”

My head whipped around to look at her. “Tweet…”

With watery eyes, she said, “I’m not going to kill our baby with chemo or any other way.”

Dr. Lang stood and rounded his desk. “I know this is a difficult decision. I’m going to step out for a bit, so you can have some privacy.”

Once the door clicked shut, sobs poured out of Tweet. Rushing over, I knelt in front of her. Wrapping our arms around each other, Tweet melted into me.

“I adore you.” My voice cracked.

“I’m sorry for getting sick again.”

Grabbing her upper arms, I pushed her back slightly. “Do not feel guilty. This isn’t your fault.”

Tightening my arms around her, I pulled her into me, trying to get closer. I couldn’t get close enough. We stayed in this position while we processed what just happened. I had to be Tweet’s rock and stay strong, while inside my soul imploded.
How do you choose between the love of your life and a
life
you already love? Halle was a piece of me and Tweet. She had arms, legs, eyes, and a nose. She wasn’t just a blip on a screen. But all I could think about was the very real possibility that if Tweet didn’t have the chemo now, there was no chance of her surviving.

“Tweet, you know I want our baby but I need you. My life has to be with you.”

“Noah, she’s a part of me. She’s a part of us. If I have the chemo now it will kill her. I’m not a sure thing with or without it. If I wait and have chemo after she’s born, and I don’t survive, at least you’ll still have our daughter. You won’t be alone, our families will help you.”

“The entire fucking city could be helping me, but without you, I am alone.”

Unable to keep my tears in any longer, I let them run down my face.

“Noah, this disease has taken so much, we can’t let it take our baby.”

I knew at a young age I wanted to be a dad someday, probably because of how awesome my own dad had been. But it wasn’t until Tweet told me we were having a baby, that I realized how much I wanted to be a dad. I felt pointless. The two people I’m supposed to protect in this world, and I couldn’t help either one of them. When we left Dr. Lang’s office Tweet was at peace with the decision we’d made. My feelings fluctuated from second to second, doubting we were doing the right thing and being pissed off that we were put in this position.

On our way home, Tweet texted her parents, Emily, and my mom, asking everyone to meet at our place that afternoon. They all knew Tweet had her doctor’s appointment today, so each dropped what they were doing in order to make it over.

Tweet sat on the sofa, flanked by her mom and Emily. Mr. Kelly stood off to the side. He was already nervous, fidgeting with his watch as he shifted from foot to foot. Mom was in the chair directly across from Tweet. I leaned back against the wall close to the entryway.

Tweet amazed me, holding it together, as she made the announcement. “There’s no easy way to tell y’all. My cancer is back.”

A combination of gasps and sobs filled the room. Mr. Kelly was the exception. My entire life, I had never heard the man use a curse word. But in that moment, under his breath, he murmured, “Fuck.”

“What did the doctor say, sweetheart?” Mrs. Kelly choked out, draping her arm around Tweet’s shoulders.

“He recommends the same treatment.”

“And what about the baby?” Mom asked.

“The baby more than likely would not survive the chemo.”

Emily’s hand covered Tweet’s.

“I won’t be going through chemo until after the baby is born.”

All eyes were glued on Tweet.

Emily was the first to break the stunned silence. “Manda, that’s pretty risky.”

“I know, but Noah and I weighed out our options. And that’s our decision.”

Options were great to have except when they all sucked.

Clearing my throat caused Tweet’s gaze to meet mine. “I’ll be back in a little while, okay?”

Tweet simply nodded in understanding.

I had changed into sweat pants, a T-shirt, and Nikes before everyone showed up. I walked toward the door, snatching my keys off of the entryway table. Wrapping my fingers around the doorknob, I started to twist it when Mom’s voice stopped me.

“Noah, where are you going?”

“I gotta get out of here.”

“For what? Amanda needs you and…”

“Mom, please.”

I turned on my heels and walked out the door.

I got in my truck and drove to Folly Beach. It was the end of the off season, right before tourists flocked into town. I knew the beach would be deserted, especially late afternoon. Right now I needed deserted. My mind stayed numb the entire drive, focusing only on the road. Parking my truck at the northeast end of the beach, I got out, and made my trek in the direction of the Morris Island Lighthouse.

I concentrated on the waves rolling onto the shore while keeping my steps at a steady normal pace. The last few hours played like snapshots in my head.

“Suspicious spots on x-ray.”

“Blood work indicates the cancer is back.”

“Baby at extremely high risk.”

“Noah, this disease has taken so much, we can’t let it take our baby.”

Once they started, I couldn’t stop the thought invasion. The feel of burning lungs, pounding heart, and dripping sweat broke through the numbness. My steady pace had turned into a full-out run, hurling myself down the beach in an attempt to escape the thoughts.

“The cancer is back.”

The end of the shore was in view, causing me to come to an ungraceful stop, arms and legs flailing uncontrollably.

“The cancer is back.”

My lungs couldn’t stop pumping out shallow breaths. I was getting lightheaded. Bending over, placing my hands on my thighs, I attempted to draw in oxygen.

“The cancer is back.”

I laced my fingers behind my head and paced like a caged animal, breaths huffing out of me.

“The cancer is killing my family.”

Relentless tremors bulldozed through my body, shattering the last ounce of resolve I was holding on to. My chest ripped open with sobs.

Looking up to the clouds, I screamed, “Fuck you! She doesn’t deserve this! Our baby doesn’t deserve this! Fuck you for letting this happen! You need to punish someone?!” Balling my fist, I pounded hard against my chest. “Then give me the fucking cancer and leave them alone!”

With my face coated in sweat and tears, I collapsed on the sand, sobbing, as my body convulsed to exhaustion.

Back home, I showered, changed my clothes, and joined the family for dinner. It was like any other family gathering except for the suffocating silence, each of us playing out individual scenarios in our heads. By the time everyone left, Tweet and I were exhausted. We got ready for bed and lay side-by-side staring up at the ceiling. We hadn’t said much to each other since leaving Dr. Lang’s office. I wondered if she were having doubts about our decision like I was.

My hand skimmed across the sheet in search of hers. Once contact was made, I curled my fingers around her hand. I turned my head toward her. The moonlight streamed in from the window reflecting off the quiet tears spilling from her eyes. Swallowing the basketball in my throat, my grip tightened, triggering a small sob to escape from her.

“What’s rattling around in that beautiful head of yours?” I whispered.

“Nothing.”

“Talk to me.”

“Having to tell everyone today… it was hard.” Her eyes clamped shut, more tears seeping from the corners.

“You were amazing.”

“I heard him.”

“Your dad?”

“After you left, I was walking down the hall and passed by the bathroom. He was crying and getting sick.” She choked back a sob. “I wonder if it would have been better had I died the first time.”

My chest deflated. I wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. Screaming how insane that was to even think that for a second. But I didn’t. Instead, I let her get it all out, no matter how painful it was to hear her say those words, because it’s what she needed at the moment.

“All the money my parents have spent seems like such a waste now.”

“You’re what matters to them.”

“Halle wouldn’t be at risk and have to face growing up without a mom.”

“Tweet…”

“And you could have moved on by now and had a normal life, instead of being a nurse to me.”

Propping myself up on one elbow, I leaned over her. I took her chin between my fingers, turning her to face me. “When are you going to get it through that beautiful thick skull of yours that there is no moving on from you for me? I couldn’t even do it all those years you were being a pain in the ass, pushing me away.”

Leaning down, I kissed her lips softly, lingering for several seconds before pulling away.

“I think we need to plan…”

“Let’s do it. You want to go shopping tomorrow and fill up that nursery?” I gave her a weak smile.

“I think we should plan for a future that doesn’t include me.”

“Tweet, I will do anything you ask, but I will not do that. I can’t.”

“I want to be a part of our daughter’s life even if I’m not here.”

That night, Tweet and I planned out how we would raise our daughter. I agreed to take daily videos or photos of us, showing how excited and happy we were getting ready for Halle to arrive. I convinced myself that the three of us would watch these as a family once Halle got old enough. Tweet wanted to give Halle a part of who she was, something lasting. That night she started writing a series of notes to our daughter. I didn’t read or ask what the notes were about. There were certain things between a mother and daughter that the dad didn’t need to be privy to.

To the outside world Tweet and I were just a young couple making plans and getting ready for the birth of their first child. We were also two people playing Russian roulette with our future. The type of cancer Tweet had was aggressive, the potential for it to spread quickly was great. Dr. Lang kept a close eye on things, having us return to the monthly visits during the course of the pregnancy. As the weeks passed no indication of metastasis or noticeable change in the spots on Tweet’s lungs occurred. This was great news. If we could maintain this holding pattern until Halle was born, Tweet’s chances of survival increased. But knowing that didn’t lessen my fears. My body jolted each time she coughed or cleared her throat. And it was a struggle to keep my nerves reasonably steady and stay strong for Tweet with each doctor visit, unsure if that visit would be the one to annihilate my family. We had a month to go before we officially met our daughter. As Tweet focused more and more on the birth of Halle, I couldn’t help but focus on the day chemo would start.