Chapter 35 Junie
Junie
“What’s all the fuss about?” Eddie asks from the chair parked over in the corner of Junie’s exam room.
Junie shrugs. “One of the Silvers got lice—and probably from June’s.”
Eddie shuffles upright in his seat, a hand creeping up to scratch his scalp. “Just the mention of the word has me itching.”
Usually, Junie would have the same response, but today she’s simply not her usual self. This appointment was the worst one
yet. She wants the nurse to hurry up and drop off the checkout papers so she can get out of there. The doctor kinda-sorta
told her off for stalling on scheduling treatment, and he seemed more concerned about her hip pain than she expected. He says
Junie needs to do chemo. Eddie says she needs to do chemo. But she’s not sure she wants to do chemo because it makes it all
too real. It’ll force her to be honest. It’ll force her to accept this miserable hand and live it.
Maybe it’s the stubborn baby of the family in Junie, thinking she’ll be able to stomp her foot all the way out of this diagnosis, but even that act is crumbling.
She may be the Louise baby, forever saved, but she’s not an idiot.
If she doesn’t get treatment—and fast—it’s just a matter of how long before it spreads and she’s on her way up to see Mama in heaven.
Junie doesn’t want to die. She feels like she’s just getting started. But there’s also a massive shift toward the all too real that comes with starting down the chemo path. Less like a small spill she can dab up before the others see and more like
an oil rig splayed open on national news.
“I guess maybe it’s just me,” Eddie says. He’s now scratching all over his arms and chest.
Junie sighs. “It’d be the least of my problems.”
His hands slow to a stop, and he looks her over. He grabs the Twizzlers from the tote bag and hops up onto the exam table
to sit beside her. “Happy stick?”
Junie’s lips curl at the ends. “Down, boy! Back in the friend zone.”
Eddie’s ears turn pink at the tips immediately—Junie’s desired result. “Ew. That’d be like kissing—”
“Your sister,” Junie says.
“Yes, or perhaps even worse. Like a nun or someone’s grandmother.”
Junie grabs the hood of her hoodie and turns it over her head. “Sister Junie reporting to heaven’s doorstep.”
“Not at that rate,” he says.
Probably not at any rate, which is why Junie needs to do this treatment. In her current standing she’s not sure she’s quite
earned a spot beyond the pearly gates. Ok, in fact, she’s almost entirely sure she hasn’t.
“You know, I agree,” Junie says and snatches a couple of red licorice sticks.
“In which case, why don’t you schedule your first appointment on the way out?” Eddie asks as he chews. “I’ll block off any
day you need from my clinic availability, so you have guaranteed transportation.”
“And comedic relief,” Junie adds.
“Junie, we have to be serious for a moment.”
She knows that, but it doesn’t mean she hasn’t been trying to avoid it. “Do I have to?”
Eddie gives her a look that she classifies as stern teacher meets prison guard.
Junie lets out a puff. “I don’t want to. Honest to God, I just don’t want to deal with any of this. It’s too much, too big,
too heavy. Far, far too serious for the likes of someone who can’t even handle a small shop renovation. I’m expected to save
myself? I’m not sure if I should even try, considering my track record in making things worse.”
Eddie stares into the linoleum tiles, examining the design. “And do you understand what that means?”
It’s as if everyone thinks she’s a complete fool. “Well, I was thinking I’d just go to Mama’s Dolly Parton shrine and sing
a few of her top hits and by the morning I’ll be cured.” She stares boldly into his eyes, but it’s a hard look to hold.
“Junie, stop. Not now. Are you seriously considering saying no?”
She shrugs. She knows she’s being childish and irresponsible and flippant, but it’s all she’s got left to protect her from
the gravity of the situation.
Eddie tightens his jaw. “I’ve taken a back seat in all this so far, let you do things your own way, but if you’re deciding
not to do the treatment—without telling Georgia—you give me no choice.” He’s fully red in the face now, the licorice candy
forgotten. “If you’re being this reckless with your life, I will have to tell Georgia. She loves you, Junie. So do the aunts.
And Rich. And me—”
“Not like that.”
“Yes, today and forever not like that, but you’re as good as my little sister at this point, so I’ll be damned if I don’t fight for you if you won’t do it yourself.”
Junie turns her head to look away, and from there she drops gently into Eddie sitting beside her.
It’s a physical admission. He slings an arm around her.
It’s quiet between them. Junie lets her new reality roll over her and seep into her pores.
Inside her, part of her. She’s going to get treatment.
She was all along, if she’s honest; life is too delicious not to stretch out for another bite.
And she’s accepted it: There’s no way around crushing Georgia with the news—twice over. Eddie’s right; he was all along.
She looks up at her friend, tears rolling in rivulets down her cheeks. “I’m going to lose my hair.” A sob breaks from her.
“Oh, Junie.” Eddie squeezes her. “It totally and completely sucks and I hate it for you. You deserve better.”
Junie nods, drying her tears on the arm of her hoodie. “Guess Aunt Tina’s been training for this day with her wig maintenance.”
She laughs.
Eddie smiles softly. “Can you imagine how they will show up for you? You will have the loudest and rowdiest cheering section.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a pain,” Junie says through tears that catch in the back of her throat.
“So big of a pain that I want to do everything we can to keep you around and giving me a hard time.”
“I’m doing the treatment. And I’ll tell Georgia,” Junie says. “Just let me find the right time.”
Eddie’s quiet then, like he knows Junie is trying to make friends with this new life she didn’t choose. After a few minutes
he holds out the Twizzler pack.
Junie grabs one and, despite her churning guts, rips off a bite and chews.