What's Left of Me (9 page)

All these scars and marks are the painful reminders of what I’ve had to go through to get to this very second.
 
It may not seem like a lot, but to me, they’re battle scars.
 
I have to face them every morning when I wake up and every night when I crawl into bed.
 
No matter how many times I try to forget, they’re always there looking back at me in the mirror.
 
Just when I get over them, or look past them, my family will make a comment and it will all come back.
 
I am always reminded.
 
This doesn’t even include my thoughts on my hair, or all the marks from the needle sticks, trying to find a vein for hundreds of blood draws.

I spend Tuesday doing some online course work for my calculus class.
 
Since graduating high school three years ago, I’ve taken as many college credits as I can.
 
I’m not doing them in any order.
 
I sign up for what looks interesting at the time.
 
Different science and math classes mainly.
 
Some literature classes.
 
I don’t know what my future holds, but when I do, I’ll be ready.

When the evening comes, Genna and I decide to watch a movie.

“Hey, I made popcorn,” Genna announces as she joins me on the couch.
 
One hand is holding an orange Rachael Ray bowl with extra buttery popcorn and the other has a small glass dish with pickle juice.
 
No one can sit near us when we do this, but they shouldn’t judge us until they try it.
 
Popcorn dipped in pickle juice is so good!
 
I don’t have to be pregnant to know that.

Reaching my hand into the bowl, I grab a handful.

“Thanks.”
 
I dip each kernel into the pickle juice before placing them one by one in my mouth.
 
The salty taste mixed with the tang of the pickle juice is heaven on my tongue.

She puts on some horror movie with unknown actors that she finds on TV.
 
It’s the typical movie where the girl is at home—alone—being attacked, and runs upstairs instead of out the front door.
 
It’s funny how the cell phone always goes dead or is out of service when she’s about to be attacked.
 
So stupid!
 
I can’t help but roll my eyes at the movie choice.

“So…
 
Are you going to tell me what was up Sunday night?” she asks, not taking her eyes off the movie.

Following her same notion, I reply, “What do you mean?”
 
I know what she means.

“I thought you wanted to help Jason around the clinic.
 
What changed?”

Parker.
 
“Nothing.”

“Dre.”

She does that.
 
Will just say my name with this sad tone, then stop.
 
Like she wants to continue, but doesn’t want to argue.

“I’m just not sure I will be up to it.
 
I can’t commit to anything just yet.”

“I understand.
 
I think.”

We continue to watch the cheesy horror movie, calling out what’s going to happen next before it does.
 
Genna orders take-out Chinese for us after the movie is over.

As we sit cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the couch with boxes of noodles, rice, chicken, vegetables, and egg rolls arranged in front of us, Genna brings up the one topic of conversation I want to crawl away and hide from.

“What did you think of Parker last night?
 
He’s nice, huh?”

“Yeah.
 
I mean, I didn’t really talk to him much.”
 
Nope.
 
I just stared at his full lips.
 
Wishing they were on mine.

“He’s from Florida.
 
He went to the University of Florida’s College of Veterinary Medicine, and grew up on Jupiter Island.”

“For someone who only met him briefly you seem to know his life story.”

She laughs.
 
“I asked Jason.”

Of course she did.
 
She has to know everything about everybody.

“Okay, so what’s Jupiter Island?”

“Aundrea!
 
It’s where Celine Dion has a house.
 
I think Tiger Woods has a place there, too.
 
Well, that’s what Jason said.
 
There are a lot of nice homes there, according to Google.
 
I looked it up once he mentioned Celine and Tiger.
 
It’s like a private little town, but not gated or anything, so people can drive through.”

“So he has money?” I ask.

“Um, I’m not sure.
 
But Jason said his dad is some investment banker guy, so I think it’s his family that has money, not necessarily him.
 
But, I mean, he is a veterinarian now, so he’ll be making pretty damn good money.”

Typical.
 
Good-looking doctor, who happens to come from money.
 
This couldn’t be any better than if I were reading it in one of my books.

“And”—she nudges me with her shoulder—“Jason said he’s single.”

I shake my head at her, but smile.
 
“I’m not looking for anything.”

“I know. You always say that, but when
are
you going to be looking for something?
 
It’s okay to date, Aundrea.
 
To go out.
 
Have fun.”

“I go out.”

“I mean with a guy.”

“I do.”

“Who is not your friend.”

“I don’t want complications.
 
I have enough going on.”
 
I’ve tried dating, but it causes too many complications, so I avoid it as much as possible.

“Aundrea.”

“Please, Genna.
 
Can we drop this?
 
No one wants to date a girl with cancer.”

I don’t want to get out of bed.
 
It’s chemo day.
 
I’m thankful my appointment is in the morning.
 
It’s bad enough that I have to spend more than three hours there; it’s better to just get it over with.

After throwing on some jean capris and a basic coral t-shirt, I make sure to grab my phone and Kindle.
 
I don’t bother applying any makeup besides a little concealer around my eyes and mascara.

Genna told me she was heading to the car, so I quickly make my way to the kitchen to pour myself a mug of coffee for the road.
 
Slipping on my black ballerina flats, I make my way out into the chilly morning air.

“Why are we leaving an hour early?” I ask as I make my way in.

“Because Jason forgot a couple of charts he brought home over the weekend.
 
He called when he got in asking me to drop them off on our way.”

Awesome.

I watch as she reaches to turn the radio down.
 
Family time: this can’t be good!

“Did you talk to Mom and Dad at all?”

“Briefly,” I say.
 
“Before I went to bed.”

“And?”

“Nothing.
 
Both said they wish they could be here.
 
I don’t know why, though. I mean …”
 
I pause, trying to find the right words. “They would just sit next to me for a couple hours being bored, then watch me get sick.
 
Not the way I’d want to spend my time.”

The first chemo treatment is the worst as far as throwing up and nausea go.
 
Doesn’t matter what type of cancer you have or what type of drugs they use the first time.
 
The doctors don’t really know what they’re doing.
 
Okay, that’s not true.
 
They do; but it’s trial and error.
 
They don’t know how you’ll react to the drugs or the dosage.
 
They just administer them, see how you react, and adjust as needed.

Yup, sounds fun, doesn’t it?

“They do, you know.
 
Wish they could be here.”

“I know.”

And I do.
 
With all my heart.
 
My parents are amazing.
 
They’ve always been there for me, before and during this entire process.
 
It hit my mom the hardest when she couldn’t get vacation time from her new job to come with me, but she knows I’m with Genna, which I think is the only reason she didn’t take a leave of absence.

The medical bills are never-ending, so my mom couldn’t afford to work part-time anymore.
 
She needed to switch to full-time at her current job, as well as take on a second part-time job to help out.

The expenses related to the Hodgkin’s lymphoma have thrown my parents into bankruptcy.
 
My dad’s insurance wasn’t the best, with a high deductible and an even higher maximum out-of-pocket.
 
No matter how many times my parents pleaded with facilities for a payment plan, it always came back to them wanting ten percent a month.
 
Ten percent of thousands of dollars from multiple places adds up quickly.
 
Eventually, they lost their house, so we moved into a three-bedroom mobile home that had just the right amount of space for the three of us.
 
To this day, I feel awful for all the financial stress, being the cause of them losing everything they worked hard for.

My parents never show it, though.
 
You’d never know any of it by just looking or talking with them.
 
It’s as if losing their home or living paycheck to paycheck hasn’t affected them.
 
They always smile, never fight, and are willing to get me or my sister anything we need.

We pull into the parking lot of For the Love of Paws.
 
It’s a little after eight, so only a few cars are around.

Genna makes her way into the building.
 
I don’t follow.

After five minutes, Shannon opens the door yelling for me to come in.

Holding the door open for me, she gives me a sweet smile.
 
“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Making my way into the small, quiet waiting area, I look around.
 
There’s only one person waiting with her pet carrier.
 
I can hear dogs barking and cats meowing from down the hall where they keep the animals overnight for surgery.

They’re speaking my language.
 
I know what it’s like to be held in a place you don’t want to be.

“Did Genna get lost?
 
The place isn’t that big.”

“No.
 
Someone Jason went to school with is here with her dog.
 
I guess Genna wanted to say hi.
 
She went in with him.”
 
Great.
 
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that Genna likes to talk.
 
A lot.
 
She also likes details, especially if she hasn’t seen someone for a while.

I glance down at my watch.
 
I have forty minutes until I need to check-in.
 
I’ll be here a while.

I make my way over to the fake granite desk that Shannon sits behind, glancing down the hallway as I do.
 
I know Parker is here somewhere.
 
A part of me hopes to see him while the other part wants to avoid him at all cost.

The side door opens.
 
Looking over Shannon’s shoulder, I come face to face with the person I was just thinking about.

“Good morning Shannon,” he says.
 
“Aundrea.”
 
He says my name with a slight nod before turning to his right and heading down the hall.

Hmm. Not the reaction I was expecting.
 
Wait, what was I expecting?

“How do you know Parker?” she asks, giving me a sideways glance.

It all becomes clear now.
 
I don’t know how I didn’t put two and two together before.
 
The night at the bar.
 
Shannon talking to Parker. They work together.
 
She wasn’t flirting with him.
 
This revelation makes me smile.
 
Not that I should smile because I don’t care.
 
Right?
 
No.
 
I don’t.
 
Okay, maybe a little.

“Oh, I met him at Genna and Jason’s the other night.
 
He came over for dinner.”
 
I try to say it nonchalantly.

“He’s so hot.
 
Hey!
 
If you work here, you can join me in eyeing him all day.
 
He’s great man candy!”

Shaking my head, I say, a little too irritated, “Um … no.
 
He’s not that hot.
 
And no, I won’t be working here.”
 
I bite my lip, hoping I sound convincing.

Apparently I don’t.
 
She gets a look of recognition. “Oh, does someone already have a crush on the new doctor?”