Dany
I walk into the hospital for my last day of chemo.
I made it.
I survived.
I hope that I’ve thrived.
I see Dave in a wheelchair by the window. He waves me over.
“Found me a kidney yet?” he asks.
I hold up my hands. “Nope. No kidney.”
He shrugs, “Oh well. Such is life. Where’s that friend of yours? The sweet woman that liked cats.”
“Matilda? She died.” I say.
“I’m sorry. I liked her. Sweet as a peach.”
I smile. “That she was.”
He looks over the parking lot. “I had a girl like her once. Best time of my life.”
I stand next to him and look at the cars all lined up in their parking spots.
“Maybe after you get your kidney, you can go and have another best time,” I say.
“You bet. I’ll go to New Zealand. I’ve always wanted to dive with the great whites there.”
Talk about lists.
“Wow. Well. This is my last day of chemo. So, I won’t be seeing you. Good luck with everything.”
“Thank you. You as well,” he says.
I wave goodbye then head up to the chemotherapy lounge.
The girls are all there. And surprisingly, so is my mom. She’s sitting in Matilda’s spot. Funny enough, that sends a happy warmth through me.
She smiles at me sheepishly as I sit down in my chair and get hooked up.
“I hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d come and support you,” she says.
“Of course,” I say. And for the first time “of course” is not just the right thing to say—it’s what I want to say. I’m so glad she’s here.
“Well, this is it. Your last treatment,” says Sylvie.
“I’m in the clear,” I say.
For a bit we chat about our future plans. Cleo has decided to join Gregory in a dance troupe. Sylvie is going to take a cruise with her grandkids. Gerry is considering traveling the world. I’m planning on taking classes in landscape architecture. I’ve found my career.
Then, “I saw your young man at the chapel,” says Sylvie.
Yeah, I’d been giving that a lot of thought. A lot of thought.
Shawn’s left a dozen messages asking me to call. Yesterday, I did. I told him politely that I couldn’t marry him. He took it surprisingly well.
“About that,” I say.
All eyes turn to me.
“Remember my list?” I ask.
“Yes,” says Gerry.
“Bungee jumping,” my mom huffs disapprovingly.
“Well, I have one item left…a wedding on the beach.”
“If you say with Shawn, I will take this IV pole and throw it at you,” says Gerry.
“What?” I say.
“Darling,” says my mom. I look over at her. She’s leaning forward earnestly. “If you follow my horrible, awful, stupid advice to pursue Shawn, I will order a tray of red hospital Jell-O and dump it on your head and then ground you for a month.”
“Ground me? I’m twenty-four. And what’s with you guys thinking I want Shawn?”
“Well, dear, there was that bit about Hawaii,” says Sylvie.
“Bah, Hawaii,” says Cleo.
“Granted. I had a moment. I was scared. I’m not anymore,” I say.
I look around the room at my friends, my family, and I smile.
“You guys showed me that I was afraid of being me, even showing anyone who I was. I’m not scared anymore. There’s no mask. There’s just me. I love myself just as I am, in this moment. Right here.” I press my hand to my heart. It just happens to be beneath my mastectomy scar.
“Finally. She gets it,” says Cleo.
I laugh. “So here’s the deal. I want to finish number ten on my list. I want to marry Jack.”
My heart lurches when I say it out loud. Because the thing is, I’m not certain he’ll say yes.
There’s a general gasp. Then everyone talks at once.
“On the beach?” asks my mom.
“Has he asked you?” asks Gerry.
“That’s wonderful, dear,” says Sylvie.
I address each statement, “Right. Thank you, Sylvie. And yes, on the beach. And no, he hasn’t asked me.”
“My experience, Miss, is that a man likes to propose.”
“That’s true,” says Gerry.
Who said that? I look around the room. Karl nods at me from a folding chair in the corner.
“I brought Karl,” my mom stage whispers.
I shake my head in amazement.
“Okay,” I say. “Hi, Karl.”
“Hello, Miss,” he says. He tips his hat to me.
Warmth fills me at his familiar words. I say something that I’ve never said. “Thank you, Karl. You know. For always being there,” I say.
“My pleasure, Miss,” he says.
I turn back to the girls. “Okay. So, here’s the thing. I have to try. I have to let Jack know how I feel. The way we left things, I wasn’t completely honest with him. I didn’t tell him how much he means to me. You see, he and I made this deal. I’d help him renovate his house, help convince this committee to approve his project, and he’d help me finish my list. I’m going to hold him to our bargain. I’m going to marry him.”
“You’re off your rocker,” says Cleo.
I shrug. Sure, I might scare him off. He may think I’m crazy and reject me. But then again, this is me, who I am, and I’m going to take a chance and invite Jack to come along for the ride. I’m not scared to show my true self anymore.
“It makes perfect sense to me,” says Gerry. “I love a woman who pursues a man.”
“David’s not real,” says Cleo in a long-suffering voice.
Gerry rolls her eyes.
I sit up straighter in my chair and clear my throat for attention. It feels like a grand speech sort of moment. I look at everyone and start.
“Thank you all for being there for me. Your friendship means so much. And right now, I’m asking for your help. It’s sort of crazy, and maybe a little romantic. I need your help getting Jack to the beach. There, he can make his decision.”
“My word,” says Sylvie.
“Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” asks my mom.
I grin at her.
My mom doesn’t take any time to consider. “Darling, I’m in. I’ll do whatever you need.”
“Bah, I’ll do it,” says Cleo.
“Yes,” says Gerry. She claps her hands in glee.
“I’ll drive if you need, Miss,” says Karl.
I send him a grateful salute.
Sylvie is the last to respond.
“Dear, are you sure? He might say no. It could hurt. Rejection can be heartbreaking,” she says. She looks down at her knitting.
I see the pinch of sadness in her eyes.
I look around the room at each of my friends.
“I’m sorry for what I said to all of you the other day. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Sylvie, I bet you’re an amazing grandma. Cleo, you are the most funny, fiery lady I know. Gerry, I know you’ve lived a wonderful life. Please forgive me.”
“Bah, stupid girl, we forgave you the minute you said it,” says Cleo.
“Really?” I ask.
They all talk at once, assuring me.
I feel buoyed by their support.
Finally, Sylvie says, “Dear, you’re sure about Jack?”
I am. I’ve reached the point of no return. A firm decision. It feels right. Crazy, but right.
“I have to try. I know who I am now, and I know that I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least try.”
Sylvie nods. “Then I’ll support you, my dear.”
A slow grin spreads over my face.
“Okay. Then here’s what we’re going to do…” I lay out a plan that requires mad knitting skills, six dozen sprinkle donuts, a hot-air balloon, a wedding coordinator, and a cat.
“I’ve booked the pavilion on the beach for tomorrow. We have twenty-four hours. Think we can pull it off?” I ask.
“Do peaches ripen in July?” asks Gerry.
I shake my head.
“Jeez, bah,” says Cleo.
Sylvie shakes her head. “No one knows, dear, no one knows.”
“Yes, the answer is yes,” says Gerry.
“Oh, good. Then let’s do this,” I say.
There’s a cheer.
My team is assembled. We’ve got a wedding to create and a groom to kidnap.