Unveil Me (The Jaded Series Book 3) (6 page)

I take a step forward and place a hand on his shoulder. He jerks at the contact, but doesn’t turn to face me. Whatever news he just got is obviously painful for him. I may not know Andrew that well, but one thing I have learned is not much gets to him. Seeing this beaten-down version of Andrew causes my chest to hurt.

“Andrew,” I call his name hesitantly, not wanting to startle him. “Everything alright?”

He whips his body around and the pain I see clear as day in his eyes almost brings me to my knees. They look tortured.

“I’ve got to go,” he says hoarsely.

I nod, not sure what to say. Whatever’s bothering him isn’t my business, even if I want it to be.

His eyes turn fierce again and his voice is stronger when he adds, “But this isn’t over. We
will
finish it.”

He doesn’t give me the chance to refute his statement before he turns and practically runs for the door. The sound of the door slamming jars me and I twist my neck, trying to release the tension caused by Andrew’s statement. And then the anguish written all over his face. Never have I seen eyes that looked so grief stricken.

I walk to the window just in time to see Andrew get into his car and take off, wheels peeling out on the pavement. I know it’s only a matter of time before I give in to Andrew’s pull.

Andrew

I rush into the emergency room and sprint toward the nurse behind the desk. When I’m refused the information of which room Ally is in, I have to force myself not to jump the desk and strangle the nurse. I realize she legally can’t give out any information, but I’m beyond being reasonable. There’s a little girl here who means the world to me, and I have no idea what’s going on. I’m past the point of caring about regulations and legalities.

Just as I’m about to lay into the damn nurse and tell her to check the chart because my name is on there, I see Becky rushing my way. With a final glare at the bitch behind the counter, I turn just in time for Becky to barrel into my chest.

Her eyes are swollen and there’s utter devastation written on her face. I clutch her shoulders and peer down at her.

“Tell me what happened,” I demand in a soft voice, not wanting to make the situation harder on her.

Sniffing and then taking a deep breath, she rocks my world when she speaks.

“She passed out in the hallway. She had been looking pale earlier and she threw up a couple times. I was on my way to check on her when I found her. Oh, Andrew.” Fresh tears start gliding down her cheeks. “At first I thought…” She stops herself and buries her head in my chest, shoulders shaking.

“Shh… I’ve got you.” I rub her back and give her a couple minutes.

The lump in my throat is tight, and I have to force the tears away. My knees feel weak, but I force them to stay locked in place. The ache in my chest is debilitating. This is so unfair. I not only feel completely helpless, but I
am
helpless. There’s not a damn thing I can do. But I have to be strong for her. For both Becky and Ally. They need me right now.  As much as this crushes me, I can only imagine the pain Becky, and especially Ally, are going through.

I pull Becky back from my chest and ask her in a gravelly voice, “What have the doctors said?”

She wipes at her eyes, and I can see her trying to pull herself together.

“We’re still waiting on a couple more test results to come through. She’s in now getting an ECG done.” She pauses and pulls in a lungful of air. The tears are coming back, and I know what she’s going to say next won’t be good. “They think it’s her heart, Andrew,” she whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I jerk at her words and a wave of dizziness hits me. My lungs stop working, and I can’t get enough air in.

“Wait. What about her heart? Is it bad?” I ask, desperate for her to tell me it’s not.

“They won’t know the details until after the rest of the tests. What are we going to do, Andrew? I can’t lose her.” Her voice cracks at the end. I put my arms around her and pull her against my chest.

“We got this. She’s not going anywhere,” I tell her, and hope it’s not a lie. “Where’s Brent?”

Taking a shaky breath, she leans her head back and looks at me. “He’s on his way. He was about two hours away when I called him. He should be here soon.”

I nod and take her hand “Come on. Let’s go sit.”

She lets me pull her over to the waiting area. There are several people in the chairs spread throughout the room. I lead her to the corner where there’s no one. She takes a seat beside me, and I put my arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. She leans her head on my shoulder.

I can’t imagine how hard it is on Brent. The man adores and worships the ground Becky and Ally walk on. To not be here when they need him must kill him. Unfortunately, his job requires him to travel, and it’s the insurance that’s paying for Ally’s treatments. However, Becky did tell me a while back that if things get worse, Brent’s boss said he’ll station him here for a while so he can be with them. I think what’s happened tonight will classify as bad enough for him to stay in town.

“When’s Brent’s family getting in?” I ask, trying to draw her into a conversation.

“Tomorrow afternoon. Ally’s excited about seeing them. I have no idea if we’ll even be home for her to enjoy them.”

“Let’s wait and see what the doctors say, okay?”

“Yeah,” she says on a sniffle.

“How did she take her last treatment?”

“Not good. It made her more sick than usual. She ran a slight fever the rest of the day. Her hair is coming out in clumps now.” She takes a minute to steady her breathing before continuing, “She finally agreed to shave it off. We had planned on doing it this afternoon.”

When Becky, Brent, and I sat down with Ally to explain her illness, we told her of some of the side effects that could happen. Hair loss was one of them. We suggested we shave her head before it started falling out, I even offered to shave mine along with her, but she flat-out refused. We knew she’s only six years old, but felt she needed to know what to look for, since it’s her body being affected by this horrible sickness. We left the decision up to her to give her a sense of control.

“That’s good. Watching it fall out is tough. At least this way, she’ll say when it goes, not the other way around.”

“Yeah. I just hate to see her like this. I feel so helpless and useless. I feel like I need to do more.” She adjusts in her seat and sits up, causing my arm to drop from her shoulders. Reaching over, she grabs my hand. I can still see the tears in her eyes, but she’s trying to push them away.

“What you’re doing now is enough, Becs,” I tell her. “Being her mom, loving her, and protecting her the best you can. Being strong when she can’t. Holding her when she feels sick. All of those things are important. Those are things she needs.”

“Thank you, Andrew. For everything you’ve done for us. For coming today. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”

I place both my hands on either side of her head and pull it forward until her forehead rests against mine.

“You know I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I need to be here just as much as you.” Her watery eyes look into mine and she nods. “That little girl in there is part of me as well. I love her and would do anything for her. You know this.”

She nods again and gives me a half smile. There’s not much to smile at right now, but she knows my words are truth. I would give my life for Ally, no questions asked.

Our moment is interrupted by the whoosh of metals doors being opened. Becky and I immediately stand. She grabs my hand and we rush over to Dr. Adams, Ally’s oncologist.

“How is she?” Becky asks, a quiver in her voice.

“She’s fine, Becky. Resting in a room at the moment,” Dr. Adams says with sympathy in her eyes. “Follow me and we’ll talk in private.”

The grip Becky has on my hand tightens when she nods. I look over at her and see pain so sharp it also takes my breath away. I feel it, too. The look in Dr. Adams’s eyes isn’t promising. I feel a sharp pain in my chest, and I reach up to rub it.

We follow Dr. Adams into a private room that has a couch, a couple chairs, and a table. There’s a phone and a box of tissues on the table. The walls are a plain white, with nothing hanging from them. No decorations are to be found. It’s as if they know any decorations used in this room would be a wasted effort. None of it would be appreciated. I hate this room on sight. This is a room that’s heard a lot of bad news. I’m sure the box of tissues is replaced often.

Becky and I sit on the couch, while the doctor takes a seat across from us. It takes her a minute before she starts talking.

“It was as I expected. Her heart isn’t taking well to the doxorubicin, the medicine used in her chemotherapy. It’s put stress on her heart that it can’t handle right now. It’s beating too fast. That’s what made her pass out.”

I hear a strangled sob from beside me, and I use my shaky hand to pick up hers. My heart’s beating a mile a minute.

“What do we do next? Obviously she still needs the chemo for the leukemia, but the medicine isn’t good for her heart,” Becky says.

“We’ll give her something to bring her heart rate down. Although it’ll put a strain on her heart, I want to up the dosage a bit more for the chemo. It’s important to get her numbers where they should be. The medication for her heart should offset any problems. When we first started this, I had Ally tested to see if she showed any signs she couldn’t handle it. All the results were good. It’s rare that a person has this reaction. We’ll try this new medicine and see how she does with it. We’ll monitor her closely. I’m sending a blood pressure cuff home with you, Becky. I want you to check her blood pressure every six hours and write down the results. I’ll give you a chart that shows what’s acceptable and what’s worrisome. I also want you to bring her in every three days for the next couple of weeks to get an ECG. If all goes well, then we’ll continue with the higher dosage. If her heart continues to be strained, we’ll reassess and see about using a different chemo medicine.”

I sit there and listen to the doctor’s words, not sure how to take them. She obviously won’t survive if she doesn’t have the chemo. My stomach drops at the thought, and I push it away. However, if she continues with the current chemo treatment, her heart could give out. Either way doesn’t sound good. They’re both life threatening.

Fuck!

“What are the chances of the chemo working with a higher dose?” I ask.

Dr. Adams looks at me and answers.

“Since we’ve started the higher dosage of doxorubicin, her white blood cell count has lowered, which is good. It means the chemo is working. I believe if we up the dosage a bit more it will lower her numbers quicker. However, it will also kill her bone marrow. That’s where you’ll come in, Andrew.”

We both nod, accepting her explanation for what it is. Ally and Brent trust this doctor to do what is best for her.

Becky sits up straighter in her chair and pulls in a deep breath before saying, “Okay. Thank you. Can we see her?

“You can see her, but I want to keep her overnight for observation. With the rate her heart was going, I want to monitor it to make sure the danger is over. The medicine we gave her tonight has slowed her heart down. If all goes well and she’s feeling better, then we’ll release her in the morning.” Dr. Adams gets up from her chair and holds out her hand for Becky and me to shake. “I want you and Brent both to stay positive. Her reacting to the chemo the way she did does not mean she’s doomed, okay? Everyone is different and we all act differently to medicines. That doesn’t mean we can’t find something that will work for Ally.”

Becky’s watery gaze meets the doctor’s and she nods. “Thank you, Dr. Adams. For everything.”

Dr. Adams reaches over and squeezes Becky’s shoulder and gives her a tender smile. “No thanks needed, Becky. We’re doing everything we can for Ally. Take a deep breath and take one day at a time. You stay in here, and I’ll send a nurse in to get you to bring you to Ally.”

Before the doctor leaves, she asks me, “Are you following all the instructions we gave you when you signed up to give Ally bone marrow?”

“Of course,” I tell her. No way would I not follow what the doctors told me I need to do. My number-one priority is doing what I can to help Ally.

“Good. Be on close stand-by for our call.”

I nod before she turns on her heel and leaves us in the barren room. We sit in silence for several minutes, taking in what the doctor said.

A few minutes later a nurse enters the room to lead us to Ally. We walk down the hallway, and I feel like I’m going to my doom. Or rather, Ally’s doom. I have no idea what I’ll do if that little girl doesn’t make it. She’s such a pivotal part of my life that I refuse to picture it without her in it. The world will be a darker place if she doesn’t exist.

I grit my teeth, clench my hands into fists, and pray with all that I am, with all that I’m worth, that God shows mercy and continues to shed Ally’s light on us all.

When we make it to Ally’s room, Becky rushes inside. I walk in behind her more slowly, afraid of what I will see. I stay by the door, wanting to give mother and daughter their time first.

The sunken-in look of Ally’s eyes almost kills me. Her cute little face is pale, and I can see under the blanket that she’s lost even more weight. Her dark hair, or what’s left of it, is dull and lifeless. I’m glad she decided to shave it off. Watching it come off in clumps can’t be easy. Maybe I’ll surprise her and shave mine off as well so she won’t feel so alone. The once vibrant, healthy, and carefree six-year-old girl is not who is in the bed across the room. I still love her just as much, but it tears me up inside to see her like this. To plainly see the pain she’s going through. I want to bundle her up and try to outrun all the pain and heartache she’s enduring.