Loving Lizzy (The Serenity Mountain Series Book 6)

Chapter Twenty Five

Saint loaded the ladies into the truck. Both women chose to sit in back while they chatted.

Edie took Lizzy by the hand. “Out with it, young lady. What did you and Michael fight about?”

Lizzy glanced at Saint, who concentrated on the road and rolled the toothpick around in his mouth.

“I told him about my pregnancy experience with Conner and he got mad because I didn’t tell him about experiencing hyperemesis. I told him I handled it by myself. Honestly, I don’t understand. He volunteered for the humanitarian mission because he loves kids.”

The older woman patted her lap in understanding. “Did you wish he’d stayed home with you?”

“We didn’t find out about my pregnancy until after he left. I refused to ask him to come home when he wanted to help those kids.”

“I didn’t ask what he did. I want you to tell me if you wished he’d come home.” She smiled a knowing smile.

“Yeah, I guess I did. Coming from foster homes, I learned to rely only on myself. Meeting Michael changed my life. When he brought up the assignment in Afghanistan, we were still newlyweds of two years. We never leaned on each other because we excelled independently.” Lizzy pondered her statement. Michael worked nonstop at the hospital and volunteered at a free clinic. She worked under an administrator in Bellevue. Their hours varied and they caught time together when it allowed. If Michael’s kidnapping had never occurred, she wondered how long until their marriage crumbled as they grew further apart because of their jobs. They lived as roommates with benefits most of the time. Their love for one another never wavered, but they never experienced any of the real challenges many marriages underwent until Conner, and she disappeared after her diagnosis.

“Marriage consists of compromise. When you pledge your life to someone, you allow them to see you at your worst. There’re times when you put your spouse on a pedestal, and they can do no wrong. Then you go through times when you doubt your marriage can withstand the storm. You’ll make good decisions and bad ones. At the end of the day, you have to decide whether you navigate the boat together or if you’ll bail yourself out,” Edie lent the sage advice.

“Michael worked the hospital emergency room and volunteered at a free clinic before he left. He wanted to save all the kids. I worked a half hour from our home with an administrator who delegated most of his work to my desk. When he retired, he never even gave me a recommendation for his position because he believed in the boy’s club. Conner passed away, Michael recovered in Germany, and I found out about the cancer the first time. I didn’t want him to get hurt any more than he’d already suffered,” Lizzy confessed.

“You became a martyr? When things became challenging you left. Did it ever occur to you how Michael took the news of his newborn son and the disappearance of his wife?” she asked in a motherly tone.

“I know it hurt him,” Lizzy murmured guiltily.

“Child, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’ve noticed a few things about you two. You get wound up in thinking about how the other feels, you don’t bother to communicate it. Now, I don’t mind keeping you company today, don’t get me wrong. But don’t you think Michael wanted to come?”

“I made the appointment, and he’d already had scheduled a meeting the same day. I didn’t want to ask him to sit here all day. I can handle it.”

She shook her head. “I’ve no doubt you think you can. It doesn’t mean you should.”

Saint pulled into the parking lot and escorted the women into the hospital wing. Butterflies swam in Lizzy’s stomach as she registered at check in. Now she wished she had asked Michael to cancel the appointment and be there beside her. She felt exactly what Edie called her: a martyr.

A friendly nurse called her name. “Good morning. I see this is your first visit. Did you remember to put lidocaine cream on your port site?”

She nodded. Her legs felt like cement as she forced herself to stand. Edie gave her a nod of encouragement. Saint’s huge arms crossed over his chest while he silently watched.

Step by step, Lizzy began to follow the nurse into the sterile-looking room. The recliners sat in a circle and television screens were placed strategically around the area.

“Oh, Edie came with me. Can she come back with us?” Lizzy asked the nurse.

“Only patients can enter the transfusion room. She’ll need to wait out here in the waiting room,” the nurse informed her as she walked through the doors.

“Will you give me a moment?” Lizzy didn’t wait for the nurse to respond as she nearly ran to her friends.

Saint reached for her and pulled her in for a huge hug. “Everything’s gonna be just fine, Miss Lizzy. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll sit here and keep mama company and you go show cancer you’re kicking its butt. We ain’t going anywhere without you,” Saint whispered in her ear.

Edie tugged Lizzy into the seat next to her and pulled something from her bag. Tears welled in Lizzy’s eyes, and she wished Michael was there to put his arms around her as the panic of sitting alone in the infusion room hit her.

“I planned on giving you this inside,” she told her as she unfolded something in her hands. “I brought you a prayer shawl. It’ll protect you while you’re getting your treatment.”

Lizzy gazed down at the garment and fingered the material. “It’s sweet of you. You should know, I’m not particularly religious to any certain church.”

Edie wrapped it around Lizzy’s shoulders. “Your friends and I made this for you. Yes, we prayed over it as we made it. This shawl represents more than any certain faith. It wraps you up in the support of each of your friends. We made it to remind you to keep faith in yourself. You’re not alone, we’ll stand behind you in this battle and raise you up when you feel you no longer can stand. It represents our love, and hope for you.” She pulled it tight as if to give Lizzy the strength she needed.

Lizzy’s chin lifted a notch as she swallowed and blinked back the tears. As if the garment projected some mystical energy, Lizzy found the vigor to follow the nurse to a chair between an older woman on her left and another around Lizzy’s age on her right.

She listened as the nurse gave her last-minute directions and inserted the medication through the port that the medical team placed the week before. Lizzy’s heart pounded as she watched the drug hanging and entering her body. She silently prayed it worked and tightened the shawl around her. She vacantly stared at the TV, not really watching it.

The woman on her right spoke up first, “You got cancer? You kinda got the scared, ‘oh shit I’m gonna die’ thing down pat. I’m Diana and got one of the girls lobbed off. What stage did they tell you?”

The older woman spoke up before Lizzy responded. “Diana, you might let her get settled in before you start. Good grief, give her a chance to breathe.”

“Come on, Barb, you know you’re as curious as I am,” the younger woman argued.

Barb shook her head at her friend and let out a laugh. “Welcome to the chemo club, my dear. Diana provides our pitiful excuse for entertainment. I’m Barb. No need for modesty here. We’re all fighting something and try to keep a sense of humor. It’s my second time fighting this bitch.”

“I’m Elizabeth,” she faltered.

Barb leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes. Diana sat up and studied Lizzy.

“I’m gonna guess it’s your first time. Geez you didn’t get poked maybe five minutes ago and you’re already pale. You gonna yak? Let us know, we’ll call the nurse to bring ya something.”

She shook her head and leaned back to close her eyes and shut the woman out. Maybe she did feel a bit nauseous. She tugged on the ends of the shawl for protection.

“She might want to sit back and observe today. Not everyone wants to share, ya know?” Barb pointed out.

Lizzy watched as the nurse led two more patients inside. A young woman, not older than eighteen sat in a chair. She watched as the nurse pulled a prepared package from the bin in the refrigerator and checked the arm bracelet. Once she finished hooking the patient up, the young woman grabbed her tablet and began tapping at her keys.

Diana leaned over the chair, “She’s got leukemia.”

“Shhh,” Barb reprimanded. “Give her a moment to soak everything in.”

The nurse walked over and checked the older woman’s bag. “You’re about halfway done. I’ll call you a cab before I disconnect everything. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine. You might want to check on Mrs. Meyers. She’s determined to pull it out before her session’s done.” She leaned toward Lizzy, “Every week she tangles herself up and pulls it out. I keep an eye out to give the nurse’s a heads up.”

“I’m sure she appreciates it,” Lizzy offered.

Barb shook her head. Her mouth thinned in a straight line as she watched the nurse help Mrs. Meyers. “The poor thing only agreed to do it for her sons.”

“I imagine it’s a difficult decision,” Lizzy’s gaze refused to leave Mrs. Meyers and the nurse caring for her.

“Pfft,” Barb dismissed the notion. “She’s eighty-seven years old. Let the woman go in peace. You can’t hang on to someone no matter how hard you try. God makes the call.”

The younger woman grunted in response. “I don’t believe in all that nonsense. When it’s your time, your body knows. Your soul lives on and you’re reborn.”

“You can believe whatever you want. It’s your choice. I’m expressing my own views.” Barb nodded toward her. “She believes in reincarnation.”

Lizzy didn’t respond. She glanced at her IV bag and closed her eyes, shutting the two women out, yet still listening to the conversation between them.

“Harold didn’t make it. Such a sweet man. I bet his wife is devastated,” Barb commented.

“You don’t know for sure, maybe he suffered a setback of some kind,” Diana argued.

“His name isn’t on the board anymore. I searched for it when I came in. I hope Glenna got a full bill of health. She scheduled her appointment for yesterday.”

“When do you go back?” Diana whispered across Lizzy.

Barb paused. “I go back in four months.”

“I’m going in at three months. Hopefully, this will be it for me. I can’t stand coming here,” Diana hissed.

Barb made a noise causing Lizzy to open her eyes to see what the woman saw. Barb shot an ugly glance in Diana’s direction.

“Don’t pay her any attention. Next time you come, bring a book, or something to keep you busy. It’ll make the time go much faster and keep your mind from thinking about all kinds of things. If you’re cold, use your call bell and have the nurses bring you a warm blanket. Are you scheduled to come again in three weeks? Try to come around the same time, we like to schedule together and it’s good to have friends.”

“I packed a bag and accidentally left it by the door,” Lizzy bit her lip.

“It’s all right. You got first day jitters. When you go home, do you have someone to stay with you?” Barb asked gently.

“Ugh, yeah. I do,” she answered awkwardly. She didn’t care to explain why she lived with her ex-husband and why he didn’t wait right outside. It stung. Which seemed silly, since she insisted Michael keep his appointment. Edie’s words came to mind.

“You’ll be fine. Put lined waste baskets around your place in case you can’t make it to the bathroom. Try to keep fluids in you, you don’t want to have to stop because of any setbacks,” Barb advised Lizzy in a motherly tone.

“The side effects, will they be as terrible as I read?” Lizzy asked hesitantly.

Barb mulled over the question while Diana snorted. “Worse than you can imagine.”

A deep V creased on Barb’s forehead as she shot an angry glance at Diana. “It all depends. Everyone reacts differently. Just because some people have a bit more difficulty than others doesn’t mean it’ll be horrendous.”

Diana sat back hard against her chair. “Don’t sugar coat it. It’s chemo, not champagne, going through these tubes.”

Barb smiled at Lizzy sympathetically. “It’s not a picnic in the park. Keep in mind this is your journey. All of us can line up with the same cancer and none of us will experience the exact same thing. You take it day by day. Some will feel better than others. When you’re done, you’ll think back and laugh about the crazy woman beside you and the sweet old one.” She winked.

Lizzy cracked a smile. A few minutes later, the nurse made her rounds and unhooked Barb.

“I called your cab. They’ll arrive in ten minutes,” she reminded the woman and helped her from the chair. When she rolled her walker to the door, the nurse produced a paper bag and hugged Barb.

“She ain’t got nobody,” Diana told her. “Ericka carries a sweet spot for her. She always packs a bowl of soup and a bunch of crackers. They worry about her, but I don’t.”

Lizzy turned in Diana’s direction, frowning at her nonchalant attitude toward her apparent friend.

“She’s a tough one and will put up a good fight. I can tell. She’s independent. She says she can fight it alone and doesn’t want to bother anyone. The nurses see right through her and tell her they accidentally made extra to send stuff home with her.”

Lizzy glanced at the doors leading into the waiting room and her heart lurched for the older woman. When she went through the lumpectomy, her younger version never considered the possibility of getting it again. When she got the diagnosis, she prepared meals and froze them, bought lemon lime soda, crackers, and the morning of surgery she changed the sheets on her bed and washed all her laundry before leaving in a cab to head to the procedure. She relied on no one. She remembered the feeling of loneliness and helplessness when she felt too weak to get out of bed to grab a single glass of water. Her mind didn’t attempt to fathom how someone did chemo alone.

A while later the nurse unhooked Diana and she waved her goodbye as she bounced from the room. Lizzy laid back in her chair and watched as nurses herded people from a chair and wiped it down for the next person.

“You’re all done Elizabeth.” The nurse removed the tubing and Lizzy rose. “We gave you nausea medication and Dr. Safder sent you home with a prescription. Use our after-hours number if you run into any issues or think of any questions.”

“Thank you.” Lizzy didn’t feel any different, and hoped the side effects skipped her. She walked into the waiting room where Saint read an outdated magazine and Edie crocheted. “I’m all done.”

Saint stood and she didn’t miss him scan her for any visible signs of distress. The older woman calmly put away her craft and stood. Saint took the bag from his mom and offered her his arm while he held out the other for her.

“Miss Lizzy, I’ll drive the truck around,” he told her as he stopped before the entrance. She stood next to Edie and waited for him to return.

“Everything will turn out fine. Let your mind take a break. Michael’s blown-up Saint’s phone worrying over you. I’m surprised he’s not in the parking lot.”

“I told him I can handle it,” she murmured.

Edie stared at her. “Sometimes it’s not about how you feel. It’s about feeling needed. Even your friends, some of the strongest women I know, require help or a guiding hand now and then.”

“They’re lucky to have you, Maddie, Carol, and Victoria. You seem like one big family. I always dreamed of getting adopted with a house full of brothers and sisters.”

“If you search hard enough, you might find out you already got one.” She stepped outside the doors as Saint pulled up his truck and hurried to help his mother in.

Lizzy walked out and Saint showed her the cooler with water, lemon lime soda, and emesis bags stored in the back seat. Saint handed her a blanket. “Kassie sent supplies through Chase as a backup,” he told her before he closed the door. Edie arched her brow at her before turning to gaze out the window.