Louise
April
The days quickly became a routine. I’d visit Kayley at the hospital so I could be with her for her chemo.
I sat beside her as the chemicals flowed into her body, trying to distract her with books and videos and chat.
I held her hair out of the way and stroked her back while she threw up.
I sat there silently raging, wishing I could do something, wave a wand, and magically make her better.
And when the visit was over, I never wanted to leave.
I had to keep telling myself that the most useful thing I could do was grow the crop, make the money, and get her to Switzerland.
So I’d drive to work, do my shift, then drive to the grow house.
There, I’d check every plant in turn. The seedlings were growing steadily, soaking up the light from the huge banks of lights and drinking in the filtered water and carefully-measured fertilizer I gave them.
Monitoring them and adjusting the mixes took hours but I found I relished the challenge.
I even rigged up sensors to send a text message to my phone if the temperature got too high or too low.
This was the one thing I could do to really help my sister, the one shot she had.
So, goddamn it, I was going to do it right.
Then, about a week into April, the hospital called and told me I needed to get there now. I rushed over there, tires squealing, heart in my mouth.
Dr. Huxler stopped me outside Kayley’s room. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think it would start this soon. Normally it takes at least a couple of weeks, but the treatments we’re giving her are so aggressive....”
“What? What’s happened?”
Then we heard a sob from inside Kayley’s room. I pushed past him and opened the door.
Kayley was sitting up in bed, her eyes red and her lip trembling.
She must have been crying continuously, all the time the hospital was summoning me and all the time I was racing across the city.
I could actually see the wet patch down the front of her nightshirt where the tears had soaked through. And she was surrounded by—
Oh Jesus.
I ran to her and pulled her into my arms. Little locks of blonde hair bounced off the bed and onto the floor.
“I look—” She was too upset to get a sentence out. She had to force the words out between big, gulping sobs. “I look like a freak! And—And the rest’s—It’s all going to fall out—”
I shushed her and pulled her even tighter against me. What could I tell her? That it wasn’t so bad? That it was temporary? “We’ll figure something out,” I told her.
“A wig? I don’t want a wig!”
I hugged her close. “I know. I know you don’t.” I patted her back. “We’ll get through this. We’ll get you through this and go to Switzerland and everything will be okay.”
But I kept thinking of the plants, still just fragile seedlings. Kayley’s entire future was locked up in those slender stems. One mistake, one disaster: a fire, someone robbing us, the cops—hell, even if I just got the fertilizer a little off. That was all it would take.
I’d do everything I could. I’d spend every waking hour at the grow house.
But that brought a new problem: the more I was at the grow house, the more I was around Sean.