Wish Upon a Star (7 page)

I headed down the hall. Annie didn't respond when I
knocked, so I opened the door just enough to pop my head in. She
was seated in the center of the bed, Indian style. Where there had
once been a dark mop of luxurious hair I loved to run my fingers
through, there was now a barely visible stubble.

"Hey there. Mind if I join you?"

She looked up from the piece of fabric she was picking at
and nodded. While there wasn't any evidence of tears, her slumped
shoulders and frown said it all. I sat next to her and wrapped her in
my arms. For the longest time, she didn't speak. When she did,
despair filled her voice.

"I hate this E.J. I hate it." She pounded her fist into my
thigh.

Once again, I got a sense I was dancing through a minefield
with my words and the wrong one would lead to a massive
explosion. I went for the obvious. "I know you do. I hate it, too. But
we're going to beat this. You and me together."

"I'm not scaring you yet?"

I placed my hands on her cheeks. "Look at me and tell me
what you see. I love you Annie, the person you are. When I gave you
the Claddagh, it was my first promise to you. When I gave you the
engagement ring, it was my permanent promise to you. Whatever we
face, we face it together."

The corners of her mouth curved up a little as she kept her
gaze on me. She blinked, put her hand on my neck and brought me to
her. The kiss was brief and very soft, but when she pulled back, there
was a little sparkle in her eyes.

"You got the pizza order right, yes?"

"Only one way to find out."

"Touché." Annie rolled off the bed and ran her hand over her
almost bald scalp. "Just think of the time and money I'll save on hair
styling products and shampoo. Come on. Let's eat. I'm starving."

We were almost to the door when Annie placed her hand on
my arm. "You really are my lucky star, E.J."

Once we turned the corner from the hall to the dining area,
Annie stopped, executed a little twirl and put her hands out to her
sides. "Ta da, it's the new me. What do you think, Ryan?"

With wide eyes, Ryan glanced across the dining room table
at Miranda, evidently for guidance. Miranda's smirk told me I'd done
okay.

Ryan swallowed. "Um, you look great."

Miranda stuck her lower lip out. "You never tell me I look
great."

"That's because you don't look great." Annie flipped a pizza
box open and helped herself to a piece of her favorite Indianapolis
indulgence. "You look fabulous, my dear. Am I right Ryan?"

"Yeah, yeah. You look fabulous." He and Annie grinned at
each other while Miranda rolled her eyes.

Maybe we're going to be okay, after all
.

Ryan and I made the carnivore special disappear in quick
succession. Annie and Miranda were much more restrained, leaving
half of their veggie pizza uneaten. Both Julia and Miranda had talked
to Annie about the value of maintaining a healthy diet during her
treatment. My North Star was following their advice with
conviction.

We spent the rest of the evening watching
Waking Ned
Divine
. We laughed. We cringed when the mean, old lady got
what she had coming to her. Miranda and Annie even shared a
couple of tissues at the end.

After our friends left, I joined Annie on the couch. She put
her head on my shoulder and snuggled close. "Thanks for tonight,
E.J., and for everything else."

With a quick squeeze, I kissed her head. The remaining
stubble was a little sharp and tickled my lips. "Wouldn't want to be
any other place in the world than right by your side."

We'd learned our lesson with the anti-nausea medication, so
in the following days Annie managed to avoid another spell in the
bathroom. She was able to maintain her energy too, so with high
spirits she finally started responding to all of the well-wishes she'd
been receiving.

Those spirits reached even higher one day when we
received a phone call from Sue, the genetic counselor. The genetic
test results had come back negative. We gave each other a little hug
while we thanked Sue for the good news. After the call, Annie
wrapped me up in a fierce embrace.

"It's such a relief having one less thing to worry about."

I kissed her on the top of her bald head.
I couldn't agree
with you more.

Once she got into a little groove, the decisive, assertive
Annie returned for the first time since her diagnosis. The last month
had been spent in constant react and roll with it mode. Now it
seemed like Annie was finally catching the peloton after scrambling
from miles behind due to a flat tire.

Samantha came to town for a few days, which we spent
getting caught up on the business end of things. There had been an
uptick in Annie's record sales since her cancer announcement. She
told Samantha she wanted to capitalize on the situation by diverting
a portion of the sales income toward cancer prevention and care
programs.

After a day and a half of gentle insistence, Samantha finally
got Annie to consent to an interview. It was conducted via Skype, so
we didn't have to divulge Annie's whereabouts. We both knew it was
just a matter of time before word leaked out that Cassandra was
being treated in Indianapolis and the media started buzzing around,
so we were thankful for each day spent anonymously.

"Aren't you worried about your young friend Staci spilling
the beans about you?" I said the night before her third
treatment.

Annie shook her head. "Staci's the least of my worries. It's
hard to put into words, but there's a connection, a trust, between us.
No, I'm more worried about whether the tumors are shrinking or
not."

I held my breath while Dr. Hill examined Annie. The blood
draw in the lab had come back fine, so Annie wasn't facing a delay in
treatment. The question was whether the AC was having any effect
on the cancer. I had to count in my head to keep from fidgeting while
the doctor first studied Annie's right breast and then the left one. She
looked at her notes, jotted something down and smiled.

"I believe I can safely say we're making progress. The larger
of the tumors do not appear to have grown, and while they haven't
shrunk, they aren't as hard to the touch."

Annie took my hand in a vice-like grip and dropped her
head. After a moment, she let out a long breath. "Thank you,
Doctor."

With the good news reflected in our matching grins, we
made our way to the infusion area.

Our elation was cut short when Staci came into view. Along
with the sock cap, she was under a pile of blankets. She still broke
into an electric smile when she saw Annie.

"Sorry I'm late. Had to check in with the doctor." Annie gave
her young friend a peck on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Eh." Staci shrugged. "No change on the Big C and I've been
fighting a cold, so I'm pretty tired. You?"

Annie hesitated, apparently at a loss for words. Would
sharing her good news with Staci be a good thing or a bad thing? On
the one hand, any good news ought to make Staci happy. But if Staci
wasn't doing as well, would Annie's news leave her discouraged that
her treatment wasn't working?

"Could be better, could be worse. I need your opinion about
something though." Annie removed the purple beret she'd been
sporting. "How do I look?"

Staci's red-rimmed eyes lit up. "We're twins."

Nurse Therese cleared her throat. "All right, if you two
young ladies don't behave, I'll have to separate you."

Annie settled into her chair. "Sorry. It's my fault. I'm a bad
influence."

The three ladies started discussing the upcoming Oscar
broadcast while Therese got Annie's treatment started. Once I got
the nod from Annie, I was out the door. I had supplies to buy if we
were going to march in the St. Patrick's Day Parade, which as only
twenty-four hours away.

For some reason, the treatment ran a little slowly, so it was
late afternoon when I was summoned. It didn't take a genius to
figure out why Annie was so quiet on a day that should have made
her happy.

"You're worried about Staci."

Annie was gazing out the window at the businesses as I
drove us east on 86th Street. "She's just a kid, E.J. You can see as well
as I can that she's not doing well."

"Maybe it's just taking her body longer to respond than
yours."

"She's a strong kid. I hope to God you're right." She shook
her head. "And in case you're wondering, I'm not missing the parade
tomorrow. Did you get my candy?"

"I did, and there's something special waiting for you at
home."

I'd barely got the car in park when Annie leapt out and
sprinted inside. It was majorly uplifting to see her full of excitement.
I took my time following her, with a little spring in my step.

"Oh, E.J., I love it!" Annie was practically dancing around the
living room. A six-foot-long green and white knitted scarf was
draped around her neck. She waltzed toward me and flipped a
tasseled end into my face. "This will be perfect for keeping my neck
warm."

"I think you missed something in there." I pointed at the
green gift bag.

She sashayed back to the table and looked in. "What in the
world?" She removed a matching green and white stocking cap and
pulled it down over her bald head. "Mmm, feels nice. Thank
you."

"Don't thank me. Thank G. She was giving me all kinds of
grief when she found out you didn't have a heavy hat and scarf. I
believe her words were 'If you can't take proper care of that poor
girl, then I'll have to.' I guess one of the ladies at her church knits, so
there you go."

"I will most definitely thank her for properly taking care of
me next time I see her."

The next morning, I arose early for my annual ride to the
canal. The City had shifted the ceremony where it dyed the canal
green from the morning to the evening, but my buddies had agreed
to keep our tradition going. This little bit of normalcy was a soothing
balm to my wounded soul.

In high spirits when I got back from the ride, I slipped into
the bedroom to get Annie up. It took a combination of gentle
prodding from me and Chieftains on the stereo to roust her out of
bed. She was having trouble maintaining her appetite these days and
some smells upset her stomach, so I passed on my traditional St.
Patrick's breakfast feast. These days she was a fan of cinnamon
raisin bagels with apple butter, so that's what we ate.

She was almost finished with her bagel when she leaned
forward and put her chin in her hand. "E.J., I'm so sorry. It just
occurred to me you're missing out on your big, fancy Irish
smorgasbord. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Between the bacon and the potato pancakes, I was afraid of
upsetting your stomach, so I figured we'd simplify. We can go back to
overindulging next year. You sure you're up to marching?"

I was just kidding, but Annie's steely return gaze let me
know she was totally serious. She took my hand and held it with
more force than I expected.

"I've had this event on the calendar in my head for the last
month and a half. I've told myself countless times to just focus on
making it to the parade in good enough health to walk. Now I'm
there. There's no way I'm missing it." She broke into a grin.

"So shall we?"

We made quick work of clean up and headed out the door.
Annie was covered up in her hat and scarf while I was weighed down
with a supply of candy that would have made the Easter Bunny
proud.

My keys were on the table. To my surprise, Annie snatched
them up. "Now that the ice is gone, I'm taking the wheel."

I rode shotgun and played navigator. While Annie
complained about the lack of pickup and the wide turning radius, I
bit my tongue and kept my grumbling about it being my car to
myself. We made it downtown without incident, though. If you didn't
count the stop sign Annie missed, or ignored.

"What year is that car anyway?" Annie said as we walked
along Pennsylvania Street to our rendezvous point with the Hurling
Club.

"It's a ninety-eight. Dad bought it for Mom after I wrecked
her old car."

Annie whirled on me. "You wrecked your mom's car so bad
it had to be replaced? Good Lord, what'd you do?"

The memory still sent a chill down my spine. "It was winter.
I was driving home after going to a movie with some friends. Coming
up to an intersection, I hit some ice, panicked, and spun out into a
ditch."

If Annie had still had eyebrows, I was pretty sure they'd be
raised as high as possible. "Were you hurt?"

"Nah." I shook my head. "The car was beat up enough that
the insurance company totaled it, though. Took a long time to work
my way out of Dad's doghouse after that one."

Before Annie could ask me anything more, a group from the
Hurling Club waved us over. While we waited for the parade to start,
we visited with Club members, most of whom we hadn't seen in
months. Between her glasses, stocking cap pulled down low, and her
scarf, she looked nothing like the glamorous Cassandra Lawrence of
a few years ago.

It was hard to fathom how much Annie's appearance had
changed in the year and a half we'd known each other. Only days
before our paths had crossed, she'd still been sporting her trademark
blonde locks that flowed halfway down her back. That had changed
by the time we'd met on that fateful day in Chicago's Union Station.
She'd been on the run from the colossal failure of her Broadway
stage production and had cut her hair to mid-neck length and
colored it almost black. A short time later, I learned the nearly raven
shade was actually her natural hair color. And now it was gone.
Every stand.

With or without hair, Annie looked absolutely
adorable.

I'm still not certain who had more fun while we marched.
Annie, who smiled, laughed and danced her way while passing out
twice as much as candy as the year before. Or me, because I got to
watch my North Star forget about her troubles for a while and lose
herself in some simple family fun. The fact that it was windy and
cloudy didn't bother us as all. For a few hours all the pain, all the
heartache and all the fear had been left behind, like an empty bottle
dropped in a recycle bin, to be dealt with another day.