Chapter 22
22
Seated in the waiting room of Dr. Keating’s office, Theo texts Evelyn.
He needs a distraction from his impending appointment that isn’t refreshing his inbox. Yesterday, Theo had his first interview to be a curriculum development coordinator. Some minor lunch drama between Annabelle and Kaia made him ten minutes late to the video call, but Amira Montez, a curriculum development specialist that he’d be working closely with, seemed unfazed by the delay. We’ve all been there , she’d said with a knowing chuckle. It went well. Really well. Learning more about the role from someone who’s leading a project to diversify classroom reading, someone who’s as passionate about the necessity for phonics-based curriculum as he is? His anxious, conflict-avoidant brain hoped that the role wouldn’t resonate, that he and Amira wouldn’t click, that it would all feel too bureaucratic.
Nope.
He wants it.
He has to talk to Evelyn.
But first, he’s desperate to know how her Foley session went this morning.
How’d it go?
She answers immediately. !!!
Theo grins like an idiot at those three exclamation points on his phone. He types you’re amazing without overthinking it and the moment he taps send, a nurse says his name and ushers him down the hall to Room 4. It’s his first appointment in an entire year. Once upon a time, he’d catch up with Dr. Keating on a monthly basis. Convince her that he needed x, y, z tests run, only for everything to come back normal. Then he’d go on to make appointments with various specialists. Just to double-check. Doctors frequently misdiagnose.
It seemed so rational at the time.
Theo is healthy, so the appointment is straightforward. Dr. Keating orders a standard CBC, a lipid panel, STI tests, and a colonoscopy.
“Based on your family history,” she explains, eyes not lifting from the screen.
As if Theo doesn’t know he’s at an increased risk, that CDC guidelines suggest first-degree relatives begin screening a decade prior to the age their immediate family member was diagnosed. Lori was thirty-eight. Theo is about to be twenty-eight. Even without a family history, colon cancer has become a leading cause of death in people under fifty. It’s what kept him awake last night, the reason his brain and body couldn’t settle until he climbed into Evelyn’s bed. Evelyn, who has regular colonoscopies because her autoimmune disease puts her at an increased risk for the cancer that killed his mom, too, a fun fact that absolutely does not terrify him. Lexapro does wonders for managing these fears, but he’s still unprepared for Dr. Keating to state this one so casually.
Based on your family history.
“Right.”
Dr. Keating’s eyes meet his, her expression softening. “You have zero concerning symptoms, Theo. It’s just a preventative screening. Insurance will cover it because—”
“—of my family history.”
“Exactly.”
Theo leaves Dr. Keating’s office with a referral and his heart in his descending colon as he processes how fucked it is that he’s so easily able to get a preventative screening with zero symptoms. His mom had had worrying symptoms that were brushed off for years because she was young and otherwise healthy. Lori died from a cancer that’s treatable with early detection because she was denied early detection and because she was denied early detection… he qualifies for it.
Theo wants to scream at the unfairness of it all.
He blasts “Seven Nation Army” on the drive home, ready to decompress by listening to a Survivor podcast and deep cleaning the kitchen. Evelyn’s car is parked outside their building. Inside, he finds her curled up on the couch watching Love Island and clutching a heating pad.
Pain.
Evelyn is in pain.
“Are you okay?” Theo drops his backpack on the floor on his way to her. Curses under his breath, as if this is somehow his fault for not paying closer attention to the toll taken by two weeks of obsessing over complex choreography. He kneels in front of the couch, eye level with her. “What do you need?”
“To be seventeen again.” Evelyn pauses the episode, her eyes meeting his concerned gaze. “The fatigue is fatiguing and I’m just relieved that Sadie gave me the afternoon off, but otherwise? Totally fine. More than fine. Today was incredible , Theodore.”
His shoulders relax. “Yeah?”
She nods.
Theo sits on the other end of the couch, lifting her legs to place them on his lap, and rubs her feet as she tells him about her day, about the session, about how it felt to dance again. Her socks have tiny avocados on them. As she reaches for the remote to resume the episode after sharing her news, he considers plucking the remote from her hand and blurting out his news. I am interviewing for a job in New York. These past two weeks, he justified not telling her because he didn’t want his opportunity to distract from hers. But now, on the other side of the session, what’s his excuse? He needs to tell her. Word vomit all his messy, complicated feelings and just see where her head is at. Once this episode ends.
After a cliffhanger conclusion, she palms the coffee table for her phone and her face scrunches, confused, at whatever is on the screen.
“Wait. Why are you home so early?”
He’s never home before 4:00 p.m. on a school day. “Doctor’s appointment.”
“Oh.”
“Just my annual. I kept putting it off because, well…” Theo shows her the referral on his phone, then shrugs. “… because .”
She sits up.
Reads.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really. No.”
“When is your appointment?”
“I haven’t made one.”
Evelyn scoots closer to him. “Don’t fuck around with this. As someone who has had”—she counts on her fingers—“ five , I promise it’s a chill screening. Like. In terms of pain? My IUD insertion was way worse. My period cramps are worse . Granted, my barometer for pain is different, but I swear you don’t have anything to be anxious about. Truly. It doesn’t hurt.”
But this hurts.
“I’m not anxious. I’m pissed.”
“What?”
“It’s bullshit. No one took my mom’s symptoms seriously for years. She dealt with so much pain before her diagnosis. And you! You literally had to get injured before anyone took your pain seriously. I’m fine. I have zero concerning symptoms, according to my doctor. But I just get a free colonoscopy?”
Well.
Instead of messy, complicated job feelings, Evelyn’s getting messy, complicated health feelings.
Oops.
“Theodore.” Evelyn wipes his cheek, then wraps her arms around his neck. He’s not sure when he started crying. His nails dig into her shoulders and Theo doesn’t know how long they stay like this, how long their hearts smash into each other’s before she says, so soft, “This is why you couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Sorry I blamed you.”
“You can sleep through my snoring. I should’ve known.”
Evelyn takes his phone out of his hand and dials the number in the referral email. Doesn’t let go of his hand while she makes the appointment. Gives her name and phone number to the scheduling nurse as his emergency contact, smirks at him as she replies wife when asked for the nature of their relationship, then adds the date to her calendar. After his colonoscopy is booked, he admits to Evelyn that he didn’t process any of the scheduling nurse’s instructions.
“Just don’t google how to make the prep better. Nothing makes it better.”
“Cool.”
“I’m serious. Mixers just prolong the blech .”
“Can’t wait,” Theo deadpans, then speaks his most anxious brain thought out loud. “What if they find something?”
“Then at least we know,” Evelyn says with a simple shrug. “It’s always better. Knowing.”
We.
We.
We.
Theo presses his lips to her forehead, then stands and makes his way to the kitchen because he still needs a distraction and it still needs a deep cleaning. First, he fills and turns on the electric kettle before scrubbing the sink. Makes herbal tea. Hands a mug to her and he knows he should tell her, but he’s already emotionally exhausted from scheduling a colonoscopy and a part of him knows deep in his bones that one way or another everything will change and that freaks him out. It’s an excuse. Another terrible one. But his brain screams Avoid, avoid, avoid as he scrubs the kitchen until his fingers prune and continues to live in the delusion that a universe exists where he can get the job and keep the woman. As if she’s even his to keep. When he returns to the couch, Evelyn’s lightly snoring. Theo refreshes his inbox, and the email he’s been waiting on has arrived.
“Ev?”
She doesn’t stir.
Theo schedules his second interview.
Later, in the middle of the night, she climbs into his bed.
Theo is so sleepily delighted when her ice-cold toes brush against his calf. “Hey.”
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“Don’t be.”
He makes space. Evelyn curls around him, the big spoon, her arm draped across his torso. He takes her hand and brings it to his mouth. She sighs. He rolls over. Faces her. Their foreheads touch. Kissing her, Theo cannot imagine a universe in which he moves back to New York without her. He can’t believe they wasted so much time pushing, denying, insisting that anything about their relationship is platonic. As if this wasn’t inevitable. Them.
She whispers against his mouth, “We aren’t supposed to need each other like this.”
“Ev.” Theo’s exhale is a soft chuckle. “When haven’t we needed each other like this?”