ON THURSDAY MORNING KENDRA TIPTOED QUIETLY THROUGH the kitchen, hoping to slip out unnoticed. She drank some water and packed another bottle, some baggies of snacks, a book and some magazines she’d bought—Oh! She scurried back upstairs and got her iPod from the nightstand, passing Trey’s closed door. They’d barely spoken since Monday. She’d barely seen him, and when she did, Molly was joined to his hip. They needed to talk, though, just the two of them. Everything about their interactions this week bothered her.
She scurried back down and found Lance in the kitchen.
“You’re about to go?”
She nodded.
“Can I help you with anything? What do you need?”
“I’m good,” she said, picking up her satchel.
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
Kendra gave him a look. She’d learned in three short days that he was something of a health nut. “Granola bar.” She lifted it from the satchel.
He didn’t look impressed.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. Don’t follow, don’t follow . . . She walked to the door, and he followed and looked out the window.
“I thought you said you had a ride.”
“I do have a ride.”
“Kendra, you know what I meant. I could’ve taken you.”
She opened the door. “I appreciate that,” she said. “But I decided I’m actually worse off when I begin to need anybody for anything.”
She made her way to the taxi and, after a short ride, arrived again at the cancer center. She’d been here every day this week for one thing or another, including blood work and a tour of the chemo room. But this morning there were more patients in the chairs, along the right side of the unit especially, presumably because it was near the window. She was clearly the new kid on the block, with all her hair. She’d grown it to well below her shoulders so she could wear a pretty updo for the wedding. Now she wondered how quickly it would all fall out.
“Kendra, let’s get you settled and started on some paperwork,” said the nurse, who’d introduced herself as Lori. “Is anyone with you today?”
“No,” Kendra said, attempting a smile. “No one’s with me.”
“Well, you’ve got all of us,” Lori said. “So if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. That’s what we’re here for.”
Kendra chose a spot and glanced around again. An older woman was there, accompanied by a younger woman, maybe her daughter. Kendra’s heart was moved by a boy, maybe twelve, with a bald head, there with his dad. A woman about her own age held her husband’s hand as she prepared to start her chemo. Kendra moved her gaze around the width of the room, finding only one other patient who was there alone—but several minutes later, another woman arrived to join her.
Kendra soon finished the paperwork and waited a good while with her magazines, a wait that convinced her how afraid she was. Of how it would feel, and how she would feel afterward, particularly how sick she’d get. The last thing she wanted was to be rendered incapacitated and needy.
“Miss Woods, how are you?” A new nurse appeared. “I get to spend the morning with you. Are you ready to get started with the first IV?”
Kendra remembered something close to this feeling only once, when she was a teen and her family visited Vancouver. She’d wanted to go whale watching, but seasickness forced her belowdecks to lie down, the nausea touching every inch of her being. She felt like that now as she lay in the taxi—as though if she moved one inch, she would vomit for days.
The taxi’s sequence of turns let her know she was near home. She dug her money out, tip included, and shouldered her satchel so she’d be ready as soon as the driver stopped. She stepped out quickly, her aim to get to her bed. Or the bathroom. At this moment nothing on earth was more pressing.
Thankfully, the front door was unlocked, saving her a step. She took the stairs as fast as she could, which wasn’t fast at all. But the fact that she could keep moving was a win. Down the hall and alll . . . mossst . . . there. She kicked her door closed behind her and collapsed, tucking herself into a ball on her bed. At some point she’d have strength to get up and take some meds for this splitting headache, but no way was it happening right now.
Why is the light so bright?
Kendra buried herself beneath her arms, blocking sunlight from her window. Things had to be better on the other side of sleep.
But her head hurt too much to doze off.
A knock on the door sounded. If she opened her mouth to answer, she’d vomit.
“Kendra?” It was Lance. “I heard you come in.” He poked his head in. “Are you okay? What do you need?”
Water and headache medicine. Part of her wanted to say it, part of her didn’t. She’d get it herself eventually.
“Kendra?”
She shook her head and turned farther from him, but the movement must’ve been too much. Everything inside of her was out in a matter of seconds. On the floor.
She’d never been more mortified.
And worse, she only had strength to lie back down, flat on her back this time, forehead beading with sweat.
She only realized Lance had left when he returned with who-knows-what kind of cleaning supplies. She couldn’t look, and if she could, she’d be too embarrassed to do so.
He took two or three trips to the bathroom across the hall, then left. But minutes later he was back with a tray, setting it on her nightstand.
“I brought you some water,” he said. “You probably don’t feel like eating, but here’s some apple slices just in case, and grapes. You need protein, so I put peanut butter on here, too, and some crackers. Oh, and there’s ibuprofen.” He placed a cool washcloth on her forehead. “And tonight I’m making grilled chicken, brown rice, and steamed broccoli. You might not want to eat, but if you do, it’ll be good for you.” He lifted a piece of paper from the tray. “Here’s my number if you need anything. I’m right downstairs.”
And he was gone.