Chapter 14 Nova
Nova
I search frantically through the crowd for Lainey, and not seeing her, I whimper, “Where is she?”
“I don’t see her,” Ryan mutters.
“Hey, aren’t you that woman who was with Easton Rowe?” some random lady asks.
“No,” I mutter before darting to my left to get away from her. The last thing I need is a crowd storming me because they think I know Easton.
“There’s Eddie,” Ryan exclaims, and he grabs my arm in a tight hold as we run in the other guard’s direction.
I’m incredibly uncomfortable with Ryan touching me, but it takes me a few seconds before I pull my arm free from his hold.
Lainey comes into view, and when I reach her, I grab hold of her hand and say, “We have to go, my sweet girl. There’s an emergency.”
Her eyes grow wide as saucers, and she glances behind me as if she’s searching for someone. “Mommy?”
I nod and pull her in the direction of the parking area. I hear Ryan informing Eddie that we’re going to Cedars-Sinai as we rush across the field.
When we climb into the back seat of the SUV, Lainey asks, “What happened to Mom?”
God, it’s not my place to tell her.
Worried out of my mind, I struggle to think straight and end up lying, “I’m not sure. We’ll find out at the hospital.”
The drive is excruciatingly long, and when we finally reach Cedars-Sinai, I ask Lainey, “Do you have Easton’s phone number so we can find out where in the hospital they are?”
“Tyler told us where to go,” Ryan informs me, shoving his door open to get out of the vehicle.
Not caring about waiting, I quickly climb out, and once Lainey is standing beside me, I take hold of her hand again. We follow Ryan into the building, but when we have to wait for an elevator, I feel like bursting into tears.
Please let Rachel be okay.
I watch the numbers count down, and the instant the doors open, I dart inside. I move my hands to Lainey’s shoulders and keep her pinned against my side.
Feeling how she’s trembling, I hug her tightly. “It’s going to be okay.”
She nods, but her face is torn with fear.
The elevator stops, and we hurry after Ryan as he leads us to a room. When we step inside, there’s an empty bed and a small sitting area. It’s unlike any hospital room I’ve ever seen.
Easton’s pacing up and down, gripping a fistful of his hair.
“Is she okay?” I ask stupidly because it’s clear she’s not.
Nothing will ever be okay again.
“Uncle Easton,” Lainey cries, and pulling her hand free from mine, she runs to him.
He opens his arms, catching her in a tight hug while his eyes lock with mine. “They’re doing an MRI on her.”
I nod and fidget with my hands, feeling restless because there’s nothing I can do.
Easton walks to me, opening one of his arms, and I dart forward. I wrap my arms around him and Lainey and bury my face against his chest.
Please, God.
I don’t know what I’m praying for because swapping places with Rachel isn’t a possibility.
What do you beg for when the most important person in your life is dying?
My breaths become choppy, and tears mist my eyes.
Please make me stronger so I can be what Rachel, Lainey, and Easton need.
I fight for control over the devastating emotions, and when I feel a little calmer, I pull back and brush my palm over Lainey’s hair while I look at Easton. “Can I get you anything?”
“A glass of water.”
I nod, and turning away from them, I walk to the small round table, which has two glasses and a pitcher with water and ice on it. I quickly pour some water into a glass before carrying it to Easton.
While he quenches his thirst, I lean down and tuck strands of Lainey’s hair behind her ears.
Her gaze darts between me and Easton. “Is Mommy going to be okay?”
I glance at Easton because I don’t know what to say.
When he holds the glass out to me, I straighten up and take it from him. He picks Lainey up and walks to a chair, where he takes a seat. I grip the glass tightly as he positions her on his lap.
“What I’m about to tell you isn’t easy,” he says to her, his features strained with heartache. “Your mom is very sick, Lainey. She has cancer.”
Lainey’s chin quivers, and her voice is small and vulnerable as she asks, “Is Mommy going to die?”
Easton sucks in a shuddering breath, and my heart breaks for the millionth time when he says, “Yes, sweetheart.” He takes another breath, and his voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” Lainey’s face crumbles, and as the first tear rolls over her cheek, my own tears begin to flow again.
Easton holds Lainey tightly. “Christ, I wish there was something we could do, but you have me and Nova. We love you very much.”
“I don’t want Mommy to die,” she cries while throwing her arms around her uncle’s neck. “It’s not fair.”
“No, it isn’t,” he whispers.
Somehow, I manage to place the glass on the table before taking a seat beside them. I lean into them and press a kiss to Lainey’s hair while rubbing my hand up and down her back.
Hoping I’m not wrong, I say, “We still have time with your mom. We’ll spend every second with her and make her happier than ever.”
Lainey nods, but her sobs come faster as she cries her little heart out.
It feels like hours have passed by the time her tears slow down, her face all blotchy and looking feverish.
Climbing to my feet, I say, “Let’s wipe your face before they bring Mommy to the room.”
Lainey nods, and after climbing off Easton’s lap, she takes my hand and presses close to my side. I lead her into the restroom, and grabbing hold of her hips, I help her to sit on the counter.
Getting some toilet paper, I gently wipe the tears from her cheeks.
Locking eyes with my goddaughter, I promise, “I’ll be here every step of the way, and I’m never leaving you. Okay?”
Her voice is hoarse from all the crying. “You’ll stay with me forever?”
“Forever, my sweet girl.” I hold up my pinky, and she hooks hers around mine. We both lean forward and kiss our hands, then I say, “I love you very much.”
Her chin quivers again as she whispers, “I’m scared.”
I wrap her in a tight hug and press kisses to the side of her head. “Me too. But we’ll find a way through this. You, me, and Uncle Easton.”
She nods, and pulling back, her gaze finds mine again. “Will it hurt?”
“What, my sweet girl?”
“Will it hurt Mommy when she dies?”
Oh God. I have no idea, and I tried not to think about Rachel’s last days. Not knowing what else to say, I shake my head. “No. She’ll sleep a lot until she doesn’t wake up again.”
We hear movement coming from the room, and I quickly pull Lainey off the counter and help her onto her feet. Her hand instantly grips mine as we rush out of the restroom.
Rachel is in a wheelchair, looking exhausted as hell. Easton picks her up, and I wait for him to place her down on the bed before I move closer. Lainey presses into my side as I glance between Easton, a nurse, and a man who I assume is the doctor.
Easton brushes his hand over Rachel’s forehead and leans over her. “Hey, Rach.”
She stares at him for too long, and intense worry pours into my soul.
When her lips part, her words are slurred and slow, “Take . . . me . . . home.”
Easton’s head snaps to the doctor, and it has the man in the white coat explaining, “The tumor has grown and is affecting Rachel’s motor skills and the right side of her body.
” He steps closer to us. “She’s also experiencing double vision, so it will become significantly more difficult for her to move around. ”
NoNoNo. I’m not ready!
I glance wildly at everyone, and I grip Lainey’s hand tighter.
“I’ve already spoken with Rachel, and I’ve advised her that we contacted hospice to help make things easier for you.” The doctor delivers another punishing blow. “I’m afraid at the rapid pace the tumor is growing, it won’t be long now.”
Pins and needles spread over my body, and my tongue goes numb from shock.
With a grim expression, Easton nods, and I don’t know how he does it, but his voice sounds calm as he asks, “Can I take my sister home?”
“I recommend that she stays a few days so we can monitor her,” the doctor answers, which has Rachel shaking her head.
“She wants to go home,” Easton insists.
“Okay,” the doctor agrees reluctantly. “I’ve prescribed medicine to help with the seizures and any pain she might experience. It will make her comfortable. Hospice will be in touch with you over the next forty-eight hours.”
Easton nods again. “Thank you, doctor. Bring the medicine and any documents I need to sign. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”
“Of course.” The doctor looks at the nurse. “Get everything ready for the patient to be discharged.” Then, he focuses his attention on Easton again. “Is there anything else I can do, Mr. Rowe?”
Easton shakes his head. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” The doctor hesitates for a moment, then adds, “Call me day or night if I can help. Hospice will come to your house to set up everything, which will make things easier for you.”
When he leaves the room, we all stand frozen until Lainey pulls her hand from mine.
“Mommy?” she whispers as she cautiously takes a step forward.
The heartache on Rachel’s face is the saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed, but she starts to pull herself up into a sitting position. I notice how she favors her left side, and Easton quickly moves closer to help.
When she’s propped up against pillows, I help Lainey onto the bed. She quickly scoots closer to Rachel and carefully wraps her arms around her mother’s neck.
Rachel is only able to put her left arm around Lainey, and I don’t even think twice as I help her wrap her right arm around her daughter. I keep my hand pressed to her forearm to hold it in place.
“Mommy,” Lainey cries, and her body shudders violently.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Rachel slurs, and it becomes impossible not to cry with them.
“I already told Lainey about the cancer,” Easton says.
Rachel gives him a thankful look before turning her attention back to her daughter. “I’m sorry . . . I hid it . . . from . . . you, Lainey. I wanted . . . more time with . . . you . . . and . . . didn’t know how to tell . . . you.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Lainey sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Needing to do something, I grab a couple of tissues from next to the bed and pat Lainey’s and Rachel’s cheeks dry.
The nurse comes back into the room, and while Easton is signing papers, Rachel tells Lainey, “I don’t want to . . . leave you, but when I do . . . I want you to know . . . a part of me . . . will always . . . stay with you.”
God. My heart can’t handle this. It’s brutal.
The nurse gives Easton the prescribed medicine, which he holds out to me. “Will you hold this?”
Nodding, I take the bag from him.
“Let’s go home,” he says while he lifts Lainey off the bed. After he sets her down on her feet, he pushes his arms beneath Rachel’s back and knees and lifts her to his chest.
“You can use the wheelchair,” the nurse mentions.
Easton shakes his head. “Thanks for everything.”
He walks toward the door, and I quickly move around the bed to take hold of Lainey’s hand.
We stick close behind Easton as we make our way out of the hospital, and I hate how people stare at him.
Most have their phones out, shamelessly taking photos.
Some have the decency to whisper, while others talk loud enough for us to hear.
“It’s Easton Rowe!”
“Isn’t that his sister? I wonder what’s wrong with her.”
“Who’s the other woman with his niece?”
We can’t leave the hospital quickly enough, and when we reach the SUV, I climb into the back so Rachel can lean her right side against me while Lainey sits on her left.
Easton gets into the passenger seat, and Tyler slides behind the steering wheel.
As we drive away from the hospital, I’m struggling to accept the fact that the tumor is growing fast, and we’re running out of time.