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On the sixth day, Mick waited for Carly, but she didn’t come out the cafe to meet him. Thinking she was working a bit later, he went in to Strawberry Fare only to learn that Carly hadn’t been to work that day. Mick asked Charlotte if he knew where Carly was, but she was hesitant in her response and told him that he’d have to ask Carly himself.
He called her a number of times, but Mick couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t pick up.
After several phone calls, Mick drove to Carly’s house, where her mother answered the door. Mick followed her to the kitchen where he’d accepted a cup of tea.
Fletcher, Carly’s father, joined them. “So she didn’t tell you?” Fletcher asked.
Mick couldn’t hide his confusion. “Tell me what?”
* * *
CARLY LAY BACK ON THE hospital bed and looked out the window. She was angry. Angry with the world. Angry with God. “Why me?” she asked repeatedly. “Why save me, only to take it all away again?” It was a cruel joke, and she wanted no part of it.
Tears rolled down her face. Enough was enough. That was the last time she was ever going to fight it. Agreeing to the surgery was her last move. She wanted out of the battle. If it ever showed its ugly head again, then she would forfeit defeat.
She didn’t want to fight any more. She had nothing left to give.
If you want to take me, then you should just do it already, she challenged God. Her chest felt tight and her heart banged against it, begging to be freed.
When she sat at her doctor’s office six months ago, she didn’t think that she would be lying in a hospital bed today. Despite the worries she faced with every annual visit to the specialist’s office, something inside of her thought—hoped—it would never return. After all, it had been thirteen years.
“I’m sorry, Carly,” Dr. Bennett said, squeezing her hand after he’d told her that the cancer had returned.
Carly couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. Did he say that the cancer had returned? she kept asking herself.
She should have known.
It started with a regular check-up.
Then the diagnostic mammogram.
The biopsy.
The awkward phone call from the nurse telling Carly that Dr. Bennett wanted to see her. Carly had asked if everything was okay. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have asked. The poor nurse had stammered, using a much practiced professional but sympathetic tone over the phone.
Of course. She should have known.
“Are you sure?” she had asked Dr. Bennett during their appointment.
“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Bennett replied solemnly.
Carly wondered how many patients the doctor had told that day that their cancer had returned.
They had tried to get the cancer out. At first, everything appeared to have been successful. But then it didn’t take long for another growth to appear. “It’s what we call a local recurrence,” Dr. Bennett explained.
They had discussed a number of options beginning with radiation and chemotherapy. But Carly wanted none of that. No. Not again. This time, she decided that a double mastectomy was the only way to go.
After telling her family what she had decided on, they all tried to talk her out of it, but in in the end, it was her choice. It was her body. “It’s my body”, Carly said flatly, as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving her stunned parents to digest the news.
There was supposed to be another week before her surgery, and Carly planned to break things off with Mick then. But when the doctor called and told her there had been an unexpected opening, she decided to take it. She wanted to get it over and done with. So she hadn’t been able to tell Mick that things between them were over.
As she lay in bed, she wondered whether Mick had waited for her. Or what he might have thought when she didn’t turn out for their sixth date. Carly had rejected all his calls, ultimately turning her cell phone off.
Carly took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly; tears stung her eyes. Mick’s face came to mind.
Carefully, she brought a hand to her chest. She could feel the drain lines on either side of her. Carly’s fingers shook as she ran her fingers along the surgical dressing that covered her chest area. Tears rolled down her face and into her ears as she closed her eyes shut.
Carly sniffled and wiped her eyes as she heard a knock on the door.
“Carly?” The door opened.
“What are you doing here?” Carly asked when Mick entered the room. He had with him a bouquet of brightly colored flowers.
“Your parents told me what happened.” He walked to her bedside. “You should have told me,” he said gently.
Carly looked away. She couldn’t face Mick. Not now. Not ever. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Mick set the flowers on the bedside table and pulled a chair close to her bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Mick—you should go.”
“No,” Mick said, taking her hand.
Carly couldn’t snatch her hand away, worried that the IV line might come out. Instead, she curled her fingers in, forming a fist. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Mick said.
She could see the worry in his eyes. Or maybe it was disgust or pity. She’d seen that same look in the eyes of so many people and knew it all too well. “Didn’t my parents tell you that I didn’t want anyone coming to see me?”
“It’s going to take more than this to get rid of me, Carly.”
That was all that was needed for Carly to lose any composure she had left. “More than this?” she yelled. “What is this, Mick?” She tried to raise her arms, but couldn’t. “What do you want from me? I’ve got nothing to give you. Just go!”
* * *
MICK’S HEART TIGHTENED at the sight of Carly’s quivering lips. He desperately wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. That he wasn’t going anywhere and that he would be right by her side. But every time he’d tried to speak, Carly shut him down. “I don’t want anything from you, Carly,” he tried again.
“Good, because I’ve got nothing to give you,” Carly spat.
Mick had never known anyone with cancer before. Sure, he’d heard about it—read about it, even watched some movies where the main characters had cancer. But never had he had someone in his circle—someone so close to him—have it. “Let me help you, Carly.”
“I don’t need your help, Mick.” Carly’s voice was filled with spite as she looked everywhere but at him.
“Carly—”
“There’s nothing you can do, Mick. Don’t you see?” Tears spilled from her face. Mick tried to wipe them, but she jerked her head away. “I’ve got nothing for anyone. I can’t be in a relationship with you—or with anyone else. Not now, not ever!” Carly reached for the call button and frantically pressed it.
“I just want to—”
“Don’t you get it? I don’t know how long I’ll be around for. I could die tomorrow—or, or next week. Next year! My life is not mine to give to anyone. Heck, I don’t even have breasts now! I’m not a real woman,” Carly wailed.
Mick turned when a nurse came through the door asking if everything was okay.
“No, it’s not!” Carly said. “I would like to be left alone.”
Mick pleaded with her. “Carly, can we please talk about this?”
“I would like him to leave, please,” Carly directed the request to the nurse. “And I don’t want anyone else coming in.”
Mick sighed.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse said.
Mick stood up and looked at Carly one more time. She refused to look at him.
“And you can take the stupid flowers with you,” Carly said. “I just gave you the six days so that I could feel what it was like. Give it to someone who actually has a chance at giving you what you want. ”
“I got those for you.” Mick turned to follow the nurse out. “Take care, Carly,” he mumbled. “I’ll check on you soon.”
“Don’t,” Carly said, her voice barely a whisper. But he heard her.
Mick stood outside the door to gather his thoughts.
“It’s normal, you know,” the nurse said gently.
Mick turned to her.
“It’s normal for patients to go through a series of emotions. It may take a while, but you’ll see. It will get better,” she smiled.