Wish Upon a Star (16 page)

"I can't believe you got all these people here. I mean, even
Ira made it. How'd you pull this off?"

I nodded toward Beth. "It was all your Musical Director's
doing. Once we knew today was going to be your final treatment day,
I reserved the place and Beth took care of everything else."

Annie looked past me at Beth, who was sipping an import
beer. "Girl, you are truly amazing. Thank you."

Beth shrugged. "Wasn't any big deal. Your friend Miranda
and I exchanged a few text messages and there you go. Nothing
compared to what you've been doing."

She tapped her beer bottle with a knife, and when the room
had quieted down, got to her feet.

"I'd like to thank y'all for being here tonight. From little Miss
Staci over there to this old guy Ira next to me, we've seen our friend
Cassandra go through one wild ride these last four months. And
while she's not of the woods quite yet, she's darn close." She raised
her bottle. "So to an amazing collaborator, a tolerable boss, and a
great friend, congratulations on completing this portion of your
journey. We love you."

Voices echoed Beth's toast while the main course was
served. Annie put her arm around me. "Thank God for dinner. I
wouldn't have been able to say anything without falling to
pieces."

Throughout the rest of the meal, we joked and kept to small
talk, content in the knowledge that despite what lay before us, we'd
at least made it to this finish line. Much to my surprise, and pleasure,
Annie was hungry enough to eat all of her dessert and most of mine.
The calories would come in handy when the effects from the chemo
kicked in.

Annie and I left the same time Staci and her parents did. The
two survivors chatted out of earshot for a bit before Annie joined me
at the car. I wanted to ask how Staci was doing, but chose not to,
afraid that Annie might not have good news for me. Instead, I chose
to think positive and be content that Staci had felt well enough to
join us.

At home, Annie got so wrapped up in responding to well
wishes on her computer that she didn't believe me when I told her it
was almost midnight.

"Fine. I'll come to bed. I'm just not looking forward to how
I'm probably going to feel when I wake up tomorrow."

When she woke up, she felt fine. It wasn't until about two in
the afternoon that her condition went downhill. And when it did, it
went like a boulder in a rock slide. Annie spent the better part of the
next week rotating among the bedroom, the bathroom and the
couch.

One morning, while she was asleep on the couch, I received
a text from Gloria. She was on her way to sit with Annie. When I
texted back that Annie felt like a truck had run her over, G responded
she'd be there in twenty minutes.

I hovered near the door, hoping that Gloria wouldn't ring
the bell and wake Annie up. Two soft raps on the door still almost
sent me through the roof, I was wound up so tight. When I opened it,
Gloria stared at me for a moment, cocked her head to the side for
another second or two, and sighed.

"My lord, you're worse than I feared." She handed me a
grocery bag and slipped inside.

My mind was in disarray from the combination of the
comment and the unknown contents of the bag. I pushed the door
closed with my back and watched Gloria head out onto the patio.
After leaving the bag on the kitchen counter, I hurried to join
her.

Once I was seated, she started right in. "When's the last time
you got out for a ride?"

I scratched my head. "Day before yesterday, I rode the
Truckster to get some groceries."

Gloria stared at me, her lips in a straight line. "I don't mean
that. I mean a ride with a capital R. One when you're gone for half the
day."

I sat back and rubbed my neck muscles. They were as hard
as tempered steel. I knew the kind of ride Gloria was talking about—a
solid fifty mile plus ride. One that would take me at least three hours
and involve a minimum of three counties.

"I don't know."

She lowered her head just a touch. "Really?"

"Really. It was probably before the chemo started hitting
Annie so hard. So, a month maybe?"

"It's been longer than that, try the first week of April. And
don't argue with me, I have my sources. That's too long for you. I
know what being on that bike does for you, so you're going to go give
me sixty miles at least. I want to see your odometer before you head
out. Now get moving."

"What about Annie?"

Gloria shook her head. "What about her? She's asleep. I
brought my Bible. Thought I'd read some Scripture until she wakes
up. Then the two of us can visit a while."

I stood and jammed my fists into my pockets. "But what
about—"

"Save it. We're both adults. I'm sure we'll find a way to
manage without you for a few hours."

A ride did sound good. I gazed out over the Monon. That
familiar tug coursed through my veins. The road was beckoning.

"Okay, but I'll have my cell phone on if you need me."

Gloria rolled her eyes and pointed indoors. In fifteen
minutes, I was changed and rolling out of the garage.

Sixty-four miles and almost four hours later, I returned. My
lips were salty with sweat. The cleats on my cycling shoes
click-clacked on the hallway floor as I made my way to the living
room.

"There's no sneaking up on anyone while you're in those,"
Annie said with a wink. The comment took me back to an evening
not so long ago when I'd teased her about how loud her high-heeled
shoes were on the condo's hardwood floors. The memory warmed
my heart almost as much as seeing Annie upright did. She was
wrapped up in a blanket and was holding a mug of something that
was steaming.

And she was smiling.

I hadn't seen a smile from her in too many days to
count.

"Touché." I worked my way out of my cycling shoes and
nudged them against the wall. Gloria took my cyclocomputer from
me and studied it.

"Not bad. Why don't you hit the shower? I'll have dinner
ready when you're finished."

With as much grace as my weary legs could muster, I
shuffled over to Annie and gave her a quick kiss on the head.

"Ewww. You're all sweaty and stinky. Get away from me
before I start hurling again." She waved her hand in front of her
wrinkled up nose. I turned and headed for the shower, with a smile
on my face as I heard Annie and Gloria sharing a laugh.

By the time I'd gotten cleaned up, the ladies had moved to
the patio. Annie was still wrapped up in a blanket, but it was still
comforting to see her outside. I slid open the door and breathed in
deeply. Somewhere nearby, a lawn was being mowed. The scent of
freshly cut grass tickled my senses.

Annie looked up at me from beneath the brim of her Angels
baseball cap and grinned. "Hey there, handsome dude, you'll sit by
me, yes?"

I pulled up a chair next to her and lowered myself into it.
The legs were wobbly from the ride. Collateral damage from our
fight with the Big C, I guess.

We whiled away the rest of the afternoon catching up with
Gloria. Spring was always the busiest season at the Bicycle Co-op, so
we hadn't seen much of her recently. While we visited, she took a
few minutes to give Annie a status report on Indianapolis Wheels for
Women, an initiative the Cassandra Lawrence Foundation had
funded.

The timer on the stove started beeping, so Gloria hurried off
to check on dinner. When she'd slid the patio door shut, Annie
scratched her ear and started picking at the fabric of the blanket.
"Soo...nice day, eh?"

I nodded. Something seemed to be on her mind.

"Look—"

The patio rolled open. "Dinner is served. E.J. will you pour
drinks while I help Annie get seated?"

Just like a puff of smoke on a windy day, whatever Annie
wanted to discuss was gone, left behind by Gloria's fabulous cooking.
The chicken soup and homemade bread totally hit the spot. G and I
exchanged a quick glance when Annie asked for a third serving. She
hadn't eaten this much in days. When dinner was over, Gloria helped
me clean up and we said our goodbyes.

"Don't want to overstay my welcome," she said while she
slipped a windbreaker on. "You keep getting better young lady."

"Yes ma'am. And I don't need to see your report to the
Foundation before you send it in. I trust you. Thanks for taking care
of me today."

After Gloria left, Annie headed to the bathroom for a soak.
When she didn't return to the living room after an hour or so, I went
to check on her. She hadn't fallen asleep in the tub, thank goodness.
She was in bed, burrowed under a mound of blankets. Based on her
steady breathing, I figured she was asleep, so I backed out of the
room and clicked the door shut.

I was awakened the next morning by a series of nudges
against my arm.

"Guess that ride took it out of you, huh? You never fall asleep
on the couch."

I sat up and massaged the crick out of my neck. Annie
handed me a cup of steaming tea.

"Come on. I actually made you breakfast. It's not much, I
realize, but it's the least I can do." She took my hand and led me to
the dining room table, where a bowl of granola with sliced bananas
awaited me. While I ate, Annie sipped her coffee.

"So I was thinking that we should work on getting the
wedding invitations mailed out. It's only four months away after
all."

I sat back and appraised Annie's physical condition. The
dark circles under her eyes had faded somewhat, but weren't
completely gone. Her skin still looked pasty and she was frightfully
thin. I didn't even want to think about how much weight she'd
lost.

And she still had a double mastectomy and reconstruction to
get through.

And maybe a month's worth of radiation treatments.

And be in condition for a wedding.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. You've been through a
lot, and there's still more to go. So I was thinking that maybe we
should hold off on the wedding to, you know, to give you a little more
time to recover."

"You don't want to go through with the wedding?"

"No, not at all. I just thought it might be a good idea to delay
it for a while."

"Delay the wedding? But the date's been set for months. We
can't go cancelling it now." She crossed her arms. Some color had
risen in her cheeks. Normally, I would have been happy to see that.
Now, I wasn't so sure.

"I'm sure, given the circumstances—"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean—given the
circumstances? You know what, forget it." She rose and stalked off to
the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I rubbed my forehead while I worked my way through
Annie's outburst. In the middle of my attempt to figure out what I'd
done so wrong, the bedroom door opened again. She grabbed her
keys from the kitchen counter and headed for the garage.

"I need some fresh air," she said without taking a glimpse at
me.

Annie was gone all day. I texted her mid-afternoon to make
sure she was okay. Her response—
Im an adult & can take care
of myself
—pretty much removed any doubt I was in her
doghouse. The question I couldn't answer was why.

It was after dark when Annie finally returned. She tossed
her keys on the counter and looked around the room, evidently to
avoid making eye contact with me. With a huff, she dropped onto the
couch and fired up her laptop.

I got up from my spot at the dining room table but didn't
approach her. I got the sense she didn't want me too close.

"Can I get you some dinner?"

She shook her head. "Ate already."

"I was worried about you. Are you okay?"

She stopped typing and raised her head just enough to hit
me with an icy cold glare. "I have cancer. Of course, I'm not okay."
She went back to her typing.

Totally clueless about what to do next, I busied myself with
folding some laundry. At the snap of Annie closing her computer, I
turned around. She took a deep breath and got to her feet.

"I'm tired and don't feel well. I'd appreciate it if you'd sleep
in the guest room tonight."

Before I could respond, she'd closed the bedroom door
behind her. A tiny click made my hair stand on end. She'd locked the
door.

A couple of beers on the patio didn't help my mounting
confusion so I went to bed with a promise that if Annie was still
upset in the morning, I'd sit down with her and get to the bottom of
the problem.

What I didn't count on was her being gone when I woke
up.

I stared at the note and tapped the table with my fingertip. It
was nothing if not direct.

E.J., I need some time to myself to think so I'm heading
home to the Villa. Please just let me be. A

Annie was gone.

I pulled myself out of the chair and went to the patio. The
bright June sunshine warmed my face but failed to reach my chilled
heart.

Annie was gone.

Please just let me be
. What the hell did that mean? A
burst of insight came to me. I rushed to the bedroom. Like a crime
scene investigator searching for a stray hair or a finger nail clipping,
I scoured the room. Her jewelry box had to be here. I found it in the
nightstand drawer. With a deep breath, I opened the cedar keepsake
Miranda had given her for Christmas.

Damn.

All her jewelry was still there—almost. Among the things
she'd left behind was the necklace on which she'd strung the
Claddagh and engagement rings. She'd lost so much weight, the rings
had started slipping off, so she'd bought a chain to wear them around
her neck until she put some weight back on.

The Claddagh and engagement rings were gone,
though.

I sat on the edge of the bed and took the chain out of the box.
The finish glittered in the lamp light. After a moment or two of
staring at the chain, I put it back and slipped the box in the
drawer.