8. Rachel
8
RACHEL
I ’d have laughed at Derrick squirming on the pile of papers, waiting for Lexi, but I was too freaked out.
A few years ago, my mom had secured my biological mother’s family medical history, and last year I did a genetic panel. Both showed I was at high risk for breast cancer. It was listed as the cause of my maternal grandmother’s death.
So Mom, being Doctor Mom, drilled it into my head to always check my breasts for lumps. The survival rate goes way up if it is caught early.
When I’d done my nightly check in the shower, I’d nearly dropped to my soapy knees. I’d felt a bump. It was no bigger than the end of a pencil eraser, but a lump was a lump.
I massaged it for an hour, thinking maybe it was just a knot but then realized breasts were made up of fat, not muscle.
Oops.
I iced it. I massaged more. My rational mind was gone. I’d almost called my mom, but she’d make me come home for a bazillion tests. It was nothing. I was sure it was nothing. But like it was a magnet, I couldn’t help touching that spot.
“What’s up?” Lexi said, sticking her head around the doorframe.
“Derrick won’t feel my boobs, so I need you to.”
“Oh my God.” Derrick threw his hands in the air.
“Um, okay,” Lexi said, clapping her hands together and rubbing them back and forth. “I’m guessing there’s a medical reason.
I slipped my top off, and Derrick jetted out of the room, cursing at me. I had no idea why I loved to make him wriggle, but I did, and I was gonna keep doing it because it made me happy.
And I needed happy right then.
I turned to Lexi, wearing only my bralette on top.
“I felt something, and I just need confirmation that it’s not normal. I know it’s not but I’m in a little bit of denial. So...”
I stuck my chest out, presenting my breasts to her. “It’s the left one.”
“Lift your arm,” she said. “Where is it?”
“Bottom right.” I pointed to the spot.
She tap-massaged the underside of my breast, feeling for the spot. When she found it, she spent a little time there and then stepped back.
“It’s small. It may be a cyst, but get it checked out ASAP. Do you have a doctor?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Do you need me to come with you?” she asked as I pulled my shirt back on.
“Nah. I’ll ask Eva to come.”
“Okay. Try not to worry. I know, I know. Worst advice ever. But do your best to relax.”
After Lexi left, Derrick walked in with his hands over his eyes. “Are you decent?”
“Never,” I said.
Derrick kept his eyes shielded.
“My top is securely in place,” I finally said.
He peeked out from his fingers, then dropped his hand.
“Lexi felt the lump too, so I’m calling the doctor.” I pulled out my phone and left a message with my doctor at East Village Practice for Obstetrics and Gynecology. Then, I sent a text to Eva. She immediately responded that of course she’d go with me.
She might have been lost in Ethanland right then, but I was relieved she’d show up when it was important.
* * *
Except, she couldn’t come.
The East Village Practice for Obstetrics and Gynecology had squeezed me in for a next day appointment, and Eva was still on a business trip in San Francisco for some tech charity thing and she wouldn’t be back until the weekend. Eva had said she’d take a red-eye, but I told her not to be ridiculous.
My alarm buzzed on my phone, telling me it was time to leave to get felt up by my doctor.
I grabbed my crossbody tote from behind Derrick’s office door, where I’d been sorting and organizing all morning. His office now had several inches of cleared floor space.
I shot him a text that I was leaving and walked to the bank of elevators. When I stepped in, Derrick stepped in behind me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Coming with you.” He raised his hand when I began to protest. “I won’t come into the room with you. I’ll stay in the reception area. But someone should be with you, and Lexi is recording right now, and I know Eva’s out of town.”
I blinked back tears that suddenly popped into my eyes and ducked my head, embarrassed by the sudden emotion. Oh God, could this be some weird cancer hormone? Was that a thing? I was never emotional like this. What was going on with me?
It didn’t help that my boss had to step up and be my emotional support animal. How did I have no other friends in this city? I mean, I loved my Derby teammates, but we’d never hung out beyond drinks after a bout. If this lump turned out to be nothing, I was totally working on getting more friends.
Derrick must have seen my distress, because he put a hand on my shoulder softly, like I was made of glass.
I batted it off.
“I’m fine, Zaddy,” I said, covering the immense gratitude I felt for him at that moment.
“What’s a Zaddy?” he asked as we walked through the lobby and into a waiting Uber.
I sucked down another wave of gratitude as I realized Derrick had ordered the car for me.
“A sexy older man,” I said, sliding into the backseat.
Derrick screwed his face up, and despite my nerves, I laughed.
“You’re straight out of Central Casting,” I said, shoving my bag at my feet. “All broad-shouldered, bearded, tattooed, grumpy, rich, and let’s not forget, old.”
“I’ve got a few years until I’m in the grave,” Derrick grumbled.
“You’re prime Zaddy age.” I stuck my thumb in my mouth and sucked on it like a baby, batting my eyes.
“You’re weird.”
“I know.”
The East Village Practice for Obstetrics and Gynecology was a quick ride over to the East River near the Williamsburg Bridge. After I’d checked in at reception, I sat next to Derrick and madly googled “lump in breast.”
“It says lumpiness in breasts is not uncommon,” I read aloud. “Lumpiness? That sounds like cottage cheese.”
Derrick reached over and clicked off my screen.
“Don’t read that shit.” He crossed his arms, his tattooed biceps popping as they pressed against his chest. He shifted in the small seat, his thighs barely contained between the narrow armrests.
This was weird. Being at my gynecologist’s office with Derrick. How did we get here? Oh right, Eva was MIA and I had nobody else.
Derrick was looking at the door like it was an escape hatch, probably wondering how the hell he got there too.
I didn’t blame him. This was strange AF.
“There’s a coffee shop at the end of the block. Go hang out there and I’ll call when I’m done.”
Derrick’s deep brown eyes narrowed. “You want me to leave?”
The reception door swung open.
“Rachel Arya,” a young nurse with cat-eyed glasses called.
I gripped the fabric arms of the chair, my heart zipping into a gallop, suddenly afraid to move. Maybe it was better not to know. Maybe I should just ignore it and it’d go away. Maybe?—
“I’m not going anywhere.” Derrick stood and reached out his hand like he was asking me to dance. “Come on. I’ll be right here waiting when you’re done.”
I stared at his hand but didn’t take it. The nurse waited at the door.
With a deep breath, I repeated mentally, I am safe . I am protected. I am a badass. But when I stood, my knees wobbled, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Actually...” I looked to the nurse, then back at Derrick. Big, strong, reliable Derrick.
“Come in with me.” I rushed the words out before I could regret them. Derrick didn’t move, looking unsure. “Come on.” I yanked his hand until he put one foot in front of the other and followed me. “But no pictures to use later when you’re feeling lonely.”
I didn’t turn to see Derrick’s face, but I knew it was a mix of exasperation and mortification. As we passed the nurse, I smiled sweetly. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing as I marched down the sterile hallway to my fate, my “Zaddy” securely at my side.