Chapter 33

 

Two weeks passed. Derrick’s condition continued to worsen. The doctor wanted to hospitalize him last week, but Derrick wanted to stay at home with me.

I took a leave of absence from work, which Bentley understood. He felt sorry for me, as did my Mother and anyone else who caught wind of Derrick’s sickness. I didn’t mention a word to Reggie about it, though I’m sure he may have found out from Patricia. However, I wasn’t going to throw my problems on him. I had to deal with this alone.

Derrick was lying in bed today. That had become the norm for him. He lost weight from not eating and some days, he was too weak to even open his eyes. I was in the kitchen warming up some chicken and rice soup for him. I tipped into our bedroom where he was lying face-up on top of the comforter.

“Derrick, honey, I made you some soup.”

He needed to eat badly. The last thing I remembered him eating was some banana pudding his parents brought over this past Saturday. And they were a wreck. They cried and cried, just like Derrick had already passed. His sister came by every day. His brother stopped by regularly too.

The most heartbreaking thing about seeing someone you love slowly die right before your eyes is the realization of knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. I couldn’t snap my fingers and make everything right again. All I could do was be there for him, hold him and tell him how much I loved him. He needed to hear that.

I didn’t hold anything in. I cried every day. I cried so often, it became a normal part of my daily routine. My eyes were always puffy. I looked like a sleep deprived mess. I must’ve slept only a few hours a night. I stayed up most nights watching Derrick sleep, reminiscing on all the fun we had, the love we made and the good times we shared. Now my baby was too weak to even walk around the house.

While he slept, I puked every morning like clockwork. Yes, it was confirmed. I was pregnant. The doctor said I was about twelve weeks along, just past the first trimester. She expressed concern about my depression. Said that stress wasn’t good for a pregnancy and I would never forgive myself if I lost our child. It was hard enough having to face losing Derrick. And how would I tell Derrick that he was going to be a father? I debated whether or not I should tell him at all. It would no doubt upset him, knowing he wouldn’t be here to see our child grow up. I didn’t know what to do. I had a new life growing inside of me while my husband’s life was slowly slipping away.

I sat there and stared at Derrick, watching him sleep peacefully. I sat the bowl of soup on the night stand next to the bed. Derrick was so groggy, he wasn’t aware that I was in the room. The doorbell took me out of my trance with him. I rushed to the door to see who it was.

When I opened the door, Reggie was standing there dressed up like he’d just come from work.

“Hey, Tiffany.”

“Hey.”

“I just came by to see where you been for the past few weeks. I’ve been trying to call you. They told me you took a leave of absence from work. What’s going on?”

I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. I didn’t want our talking to disturb Derrick, not like it could in that house. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Reggie…Derrick is sick.” Tears welled up in my eyes before I could finish. “He has cancer and the doctor has given him less than two months to live.”

“What!” Reggie said, shocked to hear the news. He took me in his arms. “Tiffany, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

I felt a measure of comfort in Reggie’s arms. Reggie had always been there for me and this situation wouldn’t be any different.

“Reggie.” I said his name as he gripped me. “I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant and my husband is dying. It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I said through tears. “I love him Reggie. I love him and he’s dying.”

Reggie held me tightly as I cried. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he kept saying over and over as if he didn’t know what else to say. I dried my eyes as best as I could.

“Anyway, I gotta get back to Derrick now.”

“Can I see him for a minute?” Reggie asked, taking a step towards the door.

“No. Today is one of his bad days. He’s sleeping right now. Maybe you can stop by tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll call you.”

“All right, Reggie.”

“Be strong, Tiffany. You know I’m here for you, right?”

“Yeah. I know.”

I wanted so badly to call my Mom after Reggie left. But that would only evoke more pain and emotion and I was tired of crying. I just wanted to be with my baby, my man. The love of my life.

 

I WENT BACK in the house to check on Derrick. He was sitting upright in the bed when I came in, he looked tired even though he had slept all day.

“Hey baby.” I eased on the bed next to him and put my arms around him.

“Hey you,” he said groggy.

“How you feeling?”

“I just feel tired right now.”

“I brought you some soup, but you were sleeping. Let me go and heat it up for you.”

“No. Don’t leave me. Stay,” Derrick said, touching me just slightly. I made myself comfortable beside him as we snuggled in bed. “I know this is hard for you,” Derrick said out of nowhere.

“Derrick, I’m not worried about me,” I said, our foreheads touching as we laid in bed. “I’m worried about you.”

“I know…but I don’t want you to worry about me. Even when I’m gone—”

“Derrick, don’t talk like that,” I said, touching his face, my eyes starting to fill with tears. His words ate through my flesh like battery acid. I could actually feel my heart breaking into little pieces like shattered glass. The slow then fast rhythms, made me want to faint while my love for him wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“I know baby,” he said looking at me, “But I want you to know that I’m okay with you being with someone else when I’m gone.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I want you,” I said crying harder, feeling like my head was going to explode with the amount of pressure I was under. I smudged his tears all over his face while a war was going on inside of me. Should I or shouldn’t I tell him I’m pregnant? I didn’t want to inflict further pain on him. He was hurting enough. I just didn’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t. So I decided to tell him. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant,” I said as enthusiastically as I could, but it came across as a sad misrepresentation of the new life we created.

Derrick smiled and frowned at the same time and asked, “We’re having a baby?”

I smiled and nodded, tears dropping from my face onto the pillow. Derrick just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

 

EVELYN CAME OVER the next day. She said she wanted to give me a break, so she sat with Derrick and insisted that I go shopping. Go shopping? That wouldn’t make me feel any better. I needed my husband in good health to make me whole again. I refused to go shopping, but I did leave. I needed some time to think to myself. I had not only my future to think about, but the life of our unborn child. Would our baby look like me or Derrick? Was it a girl or a boy? How would I feel looking into my baby’s face everyday while knowing that Derrick would never be around? Those thoughts haunted me like a dark rain cloud.

I hopped in my car and went for a drive. Then Reggie called.

“Hey, Reggie,” I answered, focusing on the road.

“Hey. How’s Derrick?”

“The same. Nothing’s changed. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Can I come by and see him?”

“I’m not home. I’m riding around trying to figure out things. Aren’t you at work?”

“Yeah. I am, but if you need me…”

“Reggie, I’m okay. I mean, I’m dealing with it as best as I can.”

“I know you are but I want to talk to you, face-to-face, Tiff. Can you meet me for lunch or something?”

“Lunch? Reggie, it’s only ten-thirty.”

“Well, an early lunch? Come on, Tiffany.”

“Where?”

“Meet me at the McDonalds on 21^st and Pacific.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Ah’ight. Me too.”

Reggie and I pulled up in the parking lot at the same time. He ordered my favorite, a Quarter Pounder meal with a Coke and a Big Mac meal for his self. I wasn’t in the mood to eat. My appetite went the same time Derrick’s did.

“So how are you holding up?”

I stared at him after he asked me the question. I wanted to ask, why do you care? It’s my life that’s screwed up, not yours. But then, I didn’t want to be bitter. He was only trying to comfort me.

“Tiffany, can you please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be fine.” I was lying, of course, and I’m sure Reggie knew that.

“How can you say you’ll be fine? You’re not fine. This is not you, not my best friend. You’re not the same.”

“My husband is dying and I’m pregnant. How am I supposed to act? Like everything is perfect? Everything is not perfect, Reggie. My life is messed up right now and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“I know that Tiff, and I just want you to know that I’m here. I mean, maybe I can’t do all the right things for you, but I’ll do what I can. I’m really worried ‘bout you, so don’t shut me out, or my Mom, or your Mom, for that matter. We’re all here for you.”

I watched Reggie quickly chew a bite of his sandwich. He munched on it quickly so he could continue speaking I assumed, but before he could say anything, I said, “I told Derrick that I was pregnant. He smiled a lil’ bit, then shut his eyes and went back to sleep. He appeared to have been satisfied, but yet disappointed at the same time. He won’t even be there when our baby is born.”

“How do you know that?”

“The doctor gave him less than two months to live.”

“What?” Reggie asked with raised eyebrows. “He’s that sick?”

“Yeah. He’s that sick.”

“What about chemo or something…I mean, they have all kind of treatments for cancer, now, right?”

I sighed heavily and said, “Well, Derrick was getting hormone therapy but wasn’t responding to it. The doctor suggested radiation therapy but Derrick refused due to the side effects of the drugs – nausea, vomiting, hair loss – he took a risk hoping that the hormone therapy would work, but it didn’t.”

“So what? He’s done trying? He could at least try the chemo.”

“He doesn’t want the chemo…too many side effects.”

“Okay, but if I were him, I would want to stay with you for as long as I can. And what about the baby? I mean…”

I cut Reggie off. “Reggie, this is rough for me already as it is. Don’t make it any harder.”

“Tiff, all I’m saying is that he should at least try the other treatment. He can’t give up.”

I could’ve jumped across the table and slapped Reggie for saying that, but he had made a point. There were countless stories out there – TV commercials offering hope, along with cancer survivor stories circulating the web on blogs and forums – I desperately wanted my husband to be one of those stories.

“I’m really concerned about you,” Reggie said. “We’ve been through a lot of things, but we’ve never been through anything this serious.”

“Reggie, this is my problem, not yours. You do have a life outside of me, you know.”

“What life? What life do I have without you? I don’t hang out with anyone, go to clubs with the fellas, or nothing like that. All I do is work and spend time with family and if I’m not with them, I’m at home thinking about you. So yeah, I am worried and I have every right to be, Tiffany. I mean, you…you’re pregnant,” Reggie said squinting. “That should be your motivation to keep going no matter how hard things get. Plus, you have me, and I ain’t going nowhere.”

Reggie made me smile with his comforting answer and quite honestly, I don’t remember the last time I smiled. I was so fortunate to have Reggie in my life, and I knew he would be there for me if I needed him.

 

I DROVE BACK home after leaving McDonalds. The time was close to one in the afternoon. When I turned in the driveway, Evelyn’s car was gone already. I walked in the kitchen and Derrick was standing at the stove.

“Derrick?” I was surprised to see that he was out of bed.

“Hey, baby. Where you been?”

“What are you doing?” I said, walking his way, throwing my arms around him. “You should be in bed, baby,” I told him.

“Nah…I’m okay. I’m making us some lunch.”

“I just had lunch with Reggie.”

“Oh…okay.”

“But I can watch you eat,” I said, releasing him, watching him shake up the stir fry on the stove.

“So you feel okay right now?” I asked him.

He turned his attention away from the stove, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. It felt good, felt like I was literally melting into him. He smelled fresh, like he had just taken a shower. His hair smelled of shampoo.

“I’m okay…had a spurt of energy, so I took a shower and came in here to cook.” He edged close to my mouth with those sweet lips of his and kissed me again. “You wanna taste?”

“Yeah.”

He stabbed some veggies and pieces of chicken on a fork and fed it to me.

“Mmm…this is good.”

He smiled at me then went ahead and made us both plates, even though I told him I had already eaten. I sat down with the plate in front of me and picked over the stir fry for pieces that I wanted. My attention was on Derrick though. It was surreal to see him actually up and eating, especially after he’d been in bed for the better part of the last two weeks. Now, he looked like he was okay, and although that wasn’t the case, anyone who didn’t know him would think he was in good health.

“Derrick.”

“Yeah?”

“When I told you I was pregnant, you didn’t say anything. You smiled and went to sleep. So can we talk about it now?”

“No. I don’t want to talk about it,” he said and kept eating.

I didn’t see that coming. Why wouldn’t he want to talk about it? I mean, this was our baby and he dismissed it like yesterday’s news.

“Derrick, we need to talk about it. I want to know how you feel. Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” he said with a straight face.

“You don’t look happy.”

“Tiffany, you don’t…” Derrick stopped mid-sentence.

“I don’t what?”

“You don’t understand what’s going through my head right now.”

“Then you need to tell me, Derrick. I’m your wife. I’m pregnant and—”

“And I’m dying, Tiffany!” he said, roused with anger, “Or have you not realized that yet? I’m not going to be here to see our child grow up. So I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Am I happy that you’re pregnant? Yes! I’m happy! But I’m not happy about these circumstances. I almost wish you weren’t pregnant at all!”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Well that’s how I feel. You wanna nag me about this…then when I give you an answer, you ‘can’t believe it’. What do you want from me, Tiffany?” he asked standing. Then he said, “You know what – forget it!” and bailed out of the back door.

My lips quivered as I cried, stress was tearing my life apart. I went upstairs, laid on my bed, asking why this had to happen to me and that’s when I realized something. This disruption in an otherwise perfect relationship didn’t just happen to me. It affected my entire family and Derrick’s family. Most importantly, though, it affected Derrick. He was the one with cancer. He was the one who stayed in bed because he was too weak to do anything. He was the one who went days without eating. He was the one who had to deal with dying and leaving me and our baby behind, not to mention his family. Derrick was the one who had the most burdens to bear. Not me.

“I’m so stupid,” I said out loud. The pillow muffled my words.

“No you’re not. I am.” Derrick’s voice shot through my spine like cold chill. I sat up to talk to him.

“Derrick, I am so sorry. I love you so much,” I said, wailing. “I know this isn’t easy. I’ve been so selfish. I’m sorry, baby.”

He walked closer to me and palmed my face like he was holding a basketball with two hands. He didn’t say a word to me. He didn’t have to. His eyes said it all. He wanted to make love to me.

He pulled my shirt up over my head and kissed me, his lips pulled mine like a suction cup. He joined me on the bed when the kissing became more intense and I helped him out of his shirt. We stripped down quickly after that and Derrick fell on top of me like a quilt.

“Derrick, we shouldn’t,” I said, knowing that with his condition and the therapies he’s had, he probably couldn’t. “It’s gonna take too much out of you.”

“Make love to me,” he insisted, but I nudged him away, told him that I didn’t feel well all of a sudden.

***

A few hours later, I was awakened by the ringing of my cell phone in my purse on the floor next to the bed. I sat up in the bed, rubbed my tired eyes and looked around for Derrick. He wasn’t in the room.

Whoever it was on my cell had to wait. I could get back to them later. I needed to find out where Derrick was. I slipped on one of Derrick’s shirts and quickly made my way downstairs.

“Derrick,” I called out to him. No answer. I peeped out the back patio door, and our cars were in the driveway. I headed to the living room and there he was, naked and laying face down on the couch. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. I ran up to him and started shaking him violently like I’d already assumed the worst. “Derrick!”

I was relieved to see him sit up, but his face was flooded with tears.

“Derrick, why are you crying?”

“Because I let you down. You trusted me and I failed you. I ruined your life. You would’ve been just fine had you never met me.”

“That’s not true. Don’t say that, Derrick. I’m glad I met you and you didn’t fail me. You brought so much happiness in my life, I have enough for an eternity. So don’t feel that way…please don’t feel like that. I couldn’t live with myself knowing you feel like this.”

Derrick slouched over a little.

“Derrick, you hear me?”

“Yeah. I hear you, baby.”

“Okay. Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”

I MANAGED TO talk Derrick into giving the radiation therapy a shot as the doctor had suggested. Unfortunately, after weeks of driving back and forth for treatments, his illness remained, his condition getting worse, probably due to the side effects of the treatment – urinary and rectal bleeding, frequent urination and diarrhea – I felt bad for even talking him into it. We eventually went for second, third and fourth opinions – all the doctors stated that his cancer was too advanced to be treated by therapy. He was even assigned a hospice nurse who came by every day to care for him, making him as comfortable as she could, and in her own words, was there to make his last days as pain-free as possible.

Today was the day I’d seen Derrick at his worst. His hair had already thinned out, he lost more weight than he had before therapy and his skin didn’t even look healthy. Dark circles lined his eyes. His hands were frail and weak. He would attempt to mumble a few words to me at times though I couldn’t understand anything he was saying to me but tonight, I made out a few words. He said in a low unsteady tone, “I…wanna see…family.” His hospice nurse looked at me when he said those words. We both knew what they meant.

I called the family and they showed up pretty quickly – his parents, sister, brother, my Mom, Patricia, and Reggie. We all stood in the room, staring at Derrick. He was pretty much in and out, hardly able to keep his eyes open.

His sister, LaRonda, burst out in tears and wrapped her arms around her brother.

Evelyn was all tears, telling Derrick that she loved him, while James consoled her.

Patricia stood quietly near the door.

Mom was in tears, looking down at the floor. She didn’t have it in her to look at Derrick.

And Reggie – Reggie was standing next to me, as I stood next to my dying husband. If Reggie wasn’t holding me up, I probably would’ve fallen to the floor. This was it. I could feel his connection with me slowly slipping away.

“Tiff,” Derrick said faintly, looking at me. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and said, “I…I…love you and…and…” He took another breath and said, “Baby.”

He was trying to tell me that he loved our baby.

I sobbed, holding his hand, telling him how much I loved him, how I couldn’t live without him. Reggie told him that he would make sure I was taken care of. He gave him his word that he would protect me and the baby.

After that, we all watched him take one last breath, then he was gone.

I was numb, heartbroken, trembling and lifeless. I felt like I’d stopped breathing. I might as well had. My reason for living was gone.

“No,” I cried out, leaning on the bed, pressing my face against his. “I love you
Derrick. I love you. Don’t leave me, baby. Please don’t leave me, Derrick.” I screamed in agony and fell on top of him. “Noooo,” I said crying harder watching him lying there, lifeless. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Reggie took me by the hand, pulled me up to his chest, squeezing me tight.

“No, let go of me, Reggie. Help him. Please. Somebody help him,” I wailed.

“Tiffany, he’s gone, baby,” Reggie told me and wrapped his arms around me again. I cried in Reggie’s arms until I was bone dry. I never experienced anything this painful. I was a mess. My life was over. Derrick was gone.

I felt like I died with him.