Tuesday, September 2, 2014
“Tessa, hurry up!” my sister called from outside my bedroom door.
I finished pulling on my cardigan and moved for the door, feeling slower than usual this morning. I’d woken up so stiff, my joints aching and my head pounding. I was getting used to it, since there never seemed to be a minute anymore when I wasn’t in pain. It’d become my new normal, despite its ominous implications.
And it made sense, considering the results of my latest scans. Dr. Morales had done another set of scans to see how far my tumor had progressed. The image of my brain was lit up so bright, there was no mistaking my tumor’s presence. Except it wasn’t a solid mass on one side of my brain like it had started as. The little feelers that had once looked tiny, extending from the mass into the rest of my brain, were now full on branches. The toxic spindles covered my brain and spine so quickly, so fully, that it was no wonder my head always hurt, or my eyes were starting to see black spots, or the numbness already tingling in my extremities.
“Tessa!” Elly called again.
“Coming!” I finally responded, one last glance in the mirror at my short hair. I fluffed it up with my fingers, hoping to make it look fuller than it was, then I swung open my bedroom door.
“There you are! I’ve had breakfast waiting!” Elly looked a lot more excited than breakfast warranted, so I cocked my head to the side and gave her a funny look. She waved it off and bounced down the hallway. “Come on! It’s a surprise.”
My family was standing around the breakfast bar, which was lined with full, steaming dishes of my favorite foods…and everything was green. Green eggs, green biscuits, green tea…it looked downright awful, honestly.
“Um…” I started, not sure what to say when breakfast looked like it’d already been eaten and regurgitated.
My dad laughed. “See? She thinks this is gross too.”
“It’s not gross,” Elly countered. “It’s festive.” Then she pointed up to a banner I’d missed when I first walked in. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!”
Kyle swung an arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple. “You didn’t think we were only celebrating Valentine’s Day, did you?”
My eyes widened and I looked between him, my dad, and Elly. “What are you guys talking about?”
“We’re doing it all!” Elly clapped her hands excitedly. “All of your favorite holidays!”
“What!” I squeaked out.
Kyle squeezed my shoulders again, but my dad filled in the blanks. “We didn’t know, sunshine. We didn’t know last year would be our last Christmas, or last March our last St. Patrick’s Day. They’re not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but we’re having a redo. All week. We’re going to make some memories.”
I wiped a tear off my cheek, trying to get the words out to tell them how much this meant to me—how much I love each one of them. Instead, I hugged them.
When I finally let go of Elly, hugging her longer than the others, she ran to grab me a special plate off the counter and presented it to me with such pride in her face. “Since I know you’re not a huge fan of eggs right now, I made these for you.”
She watched my face for my reaction, but I hesitated. I knew what she was holding; I’d eaten them a million times. They were one of my favorite breakfast foods; soft, round discs topped with a mountain of blueberries and syrup.
I knew what these were…somewhere in my brain. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I’d forgotten the words. I’d forgotten…
Elly frowned. “Do you like them?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but a barely audible mix between a squeak and a groan came out instead. “Uh…”
Kyle was immediately in front of me, searching my eyes. “Tessa? Are you okay?”
I nodded my head, but I’m not sure I was actually moving. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” my dad asked this time.
“I can’t remember what it is,” I finally admitted, flushing with embarrassment.
Everyone’s eyes followed my finger pointing to the plate of food Elly was holding.
“I know I like it—love it, even—but I can’t remember what it is.” I heard my own pace picking up, my voice sounding panicky. I felt panicky. Why can’t I remember the word?
“Pancakes,” Elly said softly, looking down at the plate. “I made you pancakes.”
I blinked. Pancakes. “Oh.”
My dad cleared his throat, and Kyle walked to the coffee machine. I could see him pretending to make a cup, but I knew he was trying to hide his face from me.
“I bet they’re delicious, Elly,” my dad offered, grabbing his own plate and starting to pile it high with green foods. “Very festive.”
“I love it, Elly,” I added, knowing the stricken look on her face was my fault. “I can’t wait to dig in. I love pancakes.”
She seemed to jolt slightly at the word, but brought me the plate with a plastered smile. “Thanks. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
Pancakes. What a cruel thing to forget first.
• ღ • ღ • ღ •
Despite my faux pau earlier, the rest of the green-themed breakfast was actually fantastic. The pancakes tasted much better than they looked, and my family moved on to lively, happy chatter around the table. It was fun and silly, and everything I needed to brighten my day.
The afternoon was a no-holds barred April Fool’s Day celebration. The first prank caught me completely off guard when Kyle replaced the stevia I use in my coffee with salt. Not one to be ousted, payback was swift. I covered the toilet seat with clear plastic wrap and waited.
And waited.
The man can really hold his bladder.
Two hours later, when I heard shrieks from the bathroom, I dissolved into laughter on the couch as Kyle came storming out, cursing up a storm.
“Plastic wrap? Really, Tessa? Really?” he balked. “Who’s going to clean up now?”
My hands tried to cover the smile on my face, but there was no hiding my laughter. I touched my index finger to the tip of my nose as if that would get me off the hook. “Not me!”
He scowled, but the corners of his lips twitched and I knew a smile was near. “There’s pee everywhere!”
That made me howl harder, pulling a couch cushion over my face to muffle the sound.
“You’re going to pay for this!” he promised as he marched to the bathroom, armed with multipurpose disinfectant and a roll of paper towels. “I’m going to get you.”
“Counting on it,” I said, teasing.
He returned the favor an hour later when he hid around the corner, jumping out wearing a zombie mask when I walked by. I shrieked and fell on my butt, which immediately made him feel bad and try to help me up. My sister put a fake dead fly in an ice cube in my glass, which my dad had switched out for a dribble cup. I retaliated by cutting two holes strategically placed in the front of her sweater, which she didn’t notice until my dad uncomfortably pointed out to her that he could see her brassiere.
By the time dinner rolled around, everyone was laughing, jumpy, and paranoid—and the house was a mess. By far the best April Fool’s Day in September I’d ever had.
Exhausted from the day’s activities, my head already starting to pound, I stretched out on the couch for a quick nap. Kyle walked by me carrying several packages of hot dogs and hamburgers. My dad was right behind him with a bag of multicolored rockets and sparklers.
I pulled a throw blanket over my legs. “What is that for?”
“Tonight is July Fourth!” Kyle replied.
My dad winked. “Take a nap, sunshine. I’ll wake you up when the next holiday is here.”
Grinning, my heart warm and full of love, I closed my eyes. “I can’t wait.”