Wish Upon a Star (6 page)

While Annie worked on her statement, I kept busy with a
little housework and made dinner. She made a few tweaks while we
polished off our steak and chicken fajitas. When I finished cleaning
up in the kitchen, she gave me the go-ahead to send it to
Samantha.

"Does this mean I'm your official assistant now," I said as I
settled in front of her computer. I pulled up Samantha's email
account.

"Oh, you're much more than that." She draped her arms
around me and laid her head on my shoulder. "Thanks for staying
today. You'll have a glass of wine with me, yes?"

We each had a glass of Riesling while we waited for
Samantha's response. My glass was almost empty when Annie's
e-mail dinged. I cracked my knuckles while I studied the message.

"Samantha says she's fine with it. She'll get it posted on your
website first thing tomorrow morning. After that, she'll issue a press
release asking people to please respect your privacy." I looked at
Annie. "Okay by you?"

She nodded and drained her glass. "Fine. Maybe I'm crazy,
but it seems like the Neulasta injection's already making me achy.
I'm going to draw a bath and head to bed."

I shot an email to Samantha to let her know Annie agreed
with the plan but was too tired from a stressful day to chat.
Otherwise, all things considered, she was fine.

Annie's computer was lightning fast and powerful beyond
belief, so I logged onto the net and unwound with another glass of
wine and some mindless surfing.

A blog analyzing the upcoming European cycling season had
me so absorbed that when Annie placed her hand on my shoulder I
almost jumped out of my skin.

"I'm off to bed love, goodnight."

"Okay, but first there's something we need to do." I got to
my feet and led Annie into the kitchen. I opened the junk drawer and
pulled out a sheet of paper on which I'd drawn eight squares. With a
couple of magnets, I secured the paper to the fridge.

"Tonight marks the beginning of our countdown." I handed
her a marker. "Pick a square, any square, and write today's date in
it."

She uncapped the marker and wrote "2/17" in the top left
square.

"Congratulations, Annie." I took her in my arms. "One down,
only seven more to go."

Still half asleep, I reached out to put my arm around Annie,
but missed. My eyes popped open and I pawed her half of the bed.
The retching sounds coming from the bathroom solved the
mystery.

In a flash, I was at the door. Annie was on her knees, heaving
into the toilet bowl. My first aid training kicked in, so I went to the
sink and ran cold water over a washcloth. Once it was good and
soaked, I wrung it out and placed it on her neck. The heaving had
stopped, but she was still taking in ragged, deep breaths.

After a few minutes, she flushed and sat back on her
haunches. "Guess I should have taken the anti-nausea medication,
huh?" She shuddered and leaned against the bathroom wall. "Can I
get another washcloth, please?"

I soaked a fresh one and placed in on her forehead. A tear
ran down her cheek from one closed eye. Once I was settled in next
to her, she placed her hand on top of mine and leaned her head on
my shoulder.

The clock on the wall above us kept up its steady tick-tock as
we sat side by side for I don't know how long. Sleep had almost
captured me again when Annie took a deep breath and squeezed my
hand.

"I think the worst is over."

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

She ran her hand through her hair. "What time is it?"

"About four. Come on, let's get you comfortable, and I'll get
you your medicine." It wasn't until I'd gotten her in bed and brought
her the anti-nausea medicine that Annie finally opened her
eyes.

They were the most bloodshot I'd ever seen.

She downed the pills with a drink of water, closed her eyes
again and curled into the fetal position. "Will you stay with me?"

I slipped under the covers and gave her a light as a feather
back massage. "This is day three after your treatment. Doctor Hill
said this would be the worst day. From now on, we'll know to start
the nausea meds sooner, okay?"

She gave a quick nod but didn't say anything. I lay there and
watched her. I'd never seen my North Star in such pain before. What
compounded my distress was the feeling that from here, it was going
to get a whole lot worse before it started to get better.

It took a while, but Annie's breathing eventually smoothed
out as she fell back asleep. Only then could I relax enough to drift off
myself.

A poke to my stomach woke me back up. I opened my eyes
to gaze right into Annie's. They were much clearer and accompanied
by a smile.

"Hi. I'm a lot better now." She took a deep breath. "Sorry
about—"

I put my finger to her lips. "Stop. Don't even think about
apologizing. If you want to be sorry about something, you can be
sorry the Lakers got beat last night."

"Oh lord, that was to the Clippers, too, wasn't it." She
grimaced. "I think I'm going to be sick again."

"Yes, the Lakers tend to make me sick, too."

She slapped me on the arm and closed her eyes. "Can I have
some toast?"

As the anti-nausea medication built up in her system,
Annie's demeanor improved. It took a few days, but her appetite
returned, too. The increased appetite led to more energy, so despite
the late February cold, Annie agreed to get outside for a daily walk.
Usually, we'd take the trail into Broad Ripple and hang out in The
Monon Coffee Shop or browse the book store. Miranda texted Annie
every day. I never saw what the messages said, but they always
made Annie grin.

While perusing the "E" section of CD's at the record store
the day before her second treatment, Annie froze with her hand in
mid-air. I glanced over to see she was staring at a Melissa Etheridge
disc. One of Annie's idols, the long-time rocker had been diagnosed
with breast cancer in 2004. Our eyes met and Annie shrugged.

"I've read a few things about the hell she went through. I
hope I don't have to go through that."

"But she survived and she's still making records. You will
too."

She tugged on a lock of hair by her ear. When she opened
her hand, few strands lay across her palm. "I hope so, E.J. I truly hope
so."

* * * *

Our first stop back at the Cancer Center was the lab, where a
technician took a sample of Annie's blood. When I asked if they'd do
this every time, the tech nodded and told us they'd test it for signs of
any infection as well as to monitor her platelet level. If her platelets
dropped too low, she wouldn't be able to receive her chemo
treatments.

She could get too sick to be able to get better. Just
great.

Everything checked out, so we trudged toward the infusion
area. Staci was seated in a corner and was waving her arm at us like
she was lost at sea and we were a rescue plane. She was sporting a
black sock cap with a red NC logo on it and a smile full of bright,
white teeth. Her skin looked a little ashen, though.

"About time you got here, Annie. I saved you a seat."

Annie gave Staci a hug and kiss on the cheek before settling
into the seat next to her. "Nice hat, girl. What's NC?"

"North Central High School. I'm a freshman there." She
removed the hat to reveal a completely bald head. "Like my new
'do?"

"I think I'm going to be matching you soon." Annie pulled on
her hair and dangled a few strands in front of her.

"Ooh, I could sell those on EBay." Staci made a grab for them,
but Annie flicked them at me before Staci could get her hands on
them.

"You don't want them now that they're contaminated with
E.J. cooties." They both giggled while I brushed the hairs to the floor
with as much dignity as I could muster.

Nurse Therese arrived with Annie's chemo bag and got her
treatment going while the girls got caught up. Most of the kids at
Staci's school were supportive, but a few had taunted her with
names like Cue Ball and Benson, a round-headed character from the
Cartoon Network's animated series
The Regular Show
.

"I think you look beautiful," Annie said. She turned to me.
"You don't have to stick around. I'll text you when I'm finished and
you can pick me up then, yes?"

With Annie settled in, I exchanged high fives with both of
the ladies and headed out to run a few errands. I'd knocked a few
things off my to-do list when my phone buzzed. By the time I
returned, Annie was in the reception area studying a brochure of
some sort.

"Interesting reading?"

"Hardly." She sighed and stood. "Wigs. Shall we?"

We were almost home when Annie turned the radio off. "I'm
going to see if Randi's available this weekend to come over."

"Sure, we could order a couple of pizzas and hang out. I'm
sure—"

"I'm going to ask her to help me cut my hair off." She
reached up and pulled a few more strands out. "I can't stand the
thought of shedding like a dog."

I didn't know how to respond, so I kept my hands on the
wheel and my eyes on the road.

"I don't want a wig, though. And it's not like I need to
maintain an appearance at the office." She let out an uneven
laugh.

We pulled into the garage, the engine sputtering before
growing silent. I put my hand on Annie's arm. "If you want, I could,
you know..." I ran my hand through my hair and made a buzzing
sound. "As a support kind of thing."

Annie stared at me, a half smile on her lips. She caressed my
cheek. "You'd do that for me?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

"Of course you would. But it's not necessary."

"You sure? I don't mind."

"I'm sure. One baldy in the house will be enough. Besides,
even bald, I'm sure I'll look gorgeous. You, on the other hand..." She
closed her eyes and shuddered. "The thought of you bald makes me
more nauseous than the chemo."

With a peck on the cheek, she was out of the car and in the
condo before I could fire off something in my defense.

The following afternoon, a smiling Miranda and a fidgety
Ryan were at the door when I answered the bell. Annie was just
waking from a nap on the couch. Miranda made a bee line for her,
pausing only to give me a quick hug. Ryan stepped inside just enough
to close the door behind him.

"So, um, Miranda thought you and me could go get a beer or
something while they hang out."

I glanced at my fiancé and her best friend. Annie waved us
away with a flick of her wrist.

"Go. You deserve to get away for a while. But we want you
back by seven with a couple of pies from Bazbeaux."

I turned to Ryan. He was busy inspecting his fingernails. At
that moment, it hit me just how little we knew each other. While
Annie and Miranda had become as close as a couple on a tandem
bike, Ryan and I got along well, but were hardly buddies. I got my
coat and followed Ryan to his Honda Insight.

It wasn't until we got in the car and the engine was running
that Ryan spoke again.

"So, uh, what sounds good?"

If I'd been on my own, I would've headed for Cycles Forever,
and hung out at the bike shop with Paul and Dave. Ryan wasn't into
cycling, so that was out. We couldn't very well go to the Bike Co-op
either. Gloria had given me a key after she heard the news and told
me to come by whenever I needed a little alone time. I couldn't see
Ryan sorting tires with me.

"How about a beer?"

Ryan nodded while his grip on the steering wheel loosened
a touch. "Sure, where to?"

We ended up at Dooley Flynn's, a pub that was a favorite of
my friends with the Hurling Club. While it was a comfortable,
family-friendly place, it was a little off the beaten path. That's what I was
looking for though, because I wasn't in the mood to run into
acquaintances with their inevitable questions about Annie.

A young lady led us to a wooden table in a corner with a
view of the big screen TV showing Iowa battling Northwestern.
Large, framed pictures of famous Ireland landmarks like the Cliffs of
Moher, Blarney Castle and Trinity University were hung on the sand
colored walls. When Ryan asked me about the golden trophy on the
wall, I laughed.

"That's the Indy Hurling Club's league championship trophy.
I was at the match when Flynn's won the title." We whiled away the
afternoon as I spun yarns about the Hurling Club and the rivalries
between some of the teams. Ryan refused to believe me when I told
him about how the guys from the Mother Earth team had tried to
steal the trophy from O'Conner's Pub a few years back. It wasn't until
our waitress confirmed the story that Ryan finally gave in.

When the clock struck six, I phoned our dinner order into
Bazbeaux's and raised my beer.

"Thanks man. It was nice to get away from it all for a few
hours."

Ryan clinked his beer to mine. "Miranda thought it might do
you some good. Glad it did."

My mouth was watering from the aroma of the pizzas as I
turned my key in the front door lock and opened the door. "Dinner's
here," I said after Ryan closed the door behind me. There was no
response. I looked down the hall. The spare bedroom door was
closed.

I knocked on the door, told the ladies the pizza had arrived
and headed to the kitchen to get out plates and utensils. Ryan had
just turned on the TV when Miranda appeared.

"E.J." She had her arms crossed and was chewing on her
lower lip. After a glance from her, Ryan said he needed to use the
bathroom. Once we were alone, Miranda motioned me to the
couch.

"I tried to talk Annie into joining us but she refused. Losing
her hair's proven to be harder on her than she thought it'd be."
Miranda sighed. "I think, given that her hair's been such a big deal
over the course of her career, she wasn't prepared for the aftermath.
She's very vulnerable right now. She needs you."