Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
MATTHEW
I ’ve been distant the last few days, and to Tandy’s credit she’s been attentive without pressing me for information. She messaged that she had lunch made, so I’m heading into the house, ready to walk the fine line of not being rude and holding myself together.
Until I know what’s going on with my health, I do not want my family to know. And asking Tandy to keep a secret like that doesn’t seem fair. She routinely sees Haley. I don’t want to put her in a predicament like that.
Once I talk to the doctor, I’ll know more, and maybe I’ll tell her then.
My doctor and I have known each other since high school. We fish together occasionally. So I called him when I first had concerns. He wouldn’t tell me what the possibilities were but he wanted to see me as soon as possible. That raised my worry level. He promised the office would call on Monday. I spent all weekend stewing.
Now it’s lunchtime on Monday, and I’m still waiting.
“Tandy, I’m back.” I hang my hat near the door and wander into the kitchen.
She smiles, and for a moment, I forget the overwhelming worry that’s weighed on me since my bathroom visit at the old house. As soon as she sets the plates on the table, I pull her close.
Maybe one day I’ll tell her how much it means just to be able to hold her. To feel her arms around me.
After a moment, I’ve collected myself enough to speak without choking up. “Smells like bacon.”
She rubs my chest. “Turkey BLTs. And I have sliced cheese if you want me to add it.”
“Just as it is sounds perfect. Thank you.” I fill two water glasses while she grabs napkins and flatware.
She hasn’t lived here long, and we already have a routine at mealtimes. I don’t even want to think about how empty this house will feel once she moves out.
I’m a couple of bites into my sandwich when my phone rings. The doctor’s office. As I swipe to answer, I stand and carry the phone outside.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Loretta from Dr. Drake’s office. I’m calling for Matthew Gallagher.”
“Speaking.” I glance inside and see Tandy look away.
It wasn’t that long ago I told her that she didn’t have to walk away when I was on the phone, and now here I am outside in the heat so that she doesn’t hear the conversation.
“Dr. Drake wanted us to get you in as soon as possible, but he also wants to have you do a couple of tests to rule some things out. Just to confirm. You called because of blood in your urine.”
“Yes.” Admitting this to the twenty-something on the other end of the line makes me feel ancient. “What openings do you have?”
“We had someone cancel an appointment this afternoon. Could you be here in a half hour?”
“Yes. And what about the other tests?”
“Dr. Drake wants me to call and get you scheduled for those, so when you’re here, you can let me know what days will work.”
“I’ll make anything work. The first available is best for me.”
“Okay. I’ll start scheduling. See you soon.”
I tuck the phone in my pocket and rub my face. If I’m going to make the appointment, I need to leave now. Without bothering to plaster on a smile, I step inside. “Sorry about that. Would you mind if I took my sandwich to go? I need to be somewhere.”
Tandy wraps the sandwich in parchment paper, then tucks it in a baggie. “Here you go. I’ll have my phone on me if you need anything.”
After pressing a kiss to her forehead, I hurry out the door. Maybe after the appointment, I’ll have a better idea of what I’m facing.
The last thing Bernie said as he walked out of the exam room was “Don’t go looking up your symptoms on the internet. Let’s run the tests. Then we’ll know what’s going on.”
I’m currently sitting on my couch ignoring his advice. And I don’t like what I’m seeing. Tandy isn’t here, which I have mixed feelings about. She must be over at Matchmaker Ranch. I should probably be there too, but I just can’t.
I text the crew leaders to make sure work is progressing. Then I send Tandy a message, letting her know that I’m not feeling well and won’t be having dinner with her. We’d planned to grab barbecue tonight. Hopefully, she understands.
Then for the first time in decades—maybe ever—I crawl in bed before the sun goes down. If I’m going to research my symptoms on the internet, doing it in bed is much more comfortable.
Tandy makes more noise than a raccoon in a sack when she returns home, her not-so-subtle way of letting me know she’s here. It takes immense willpower to stay in bed when I really just want to hold her. More accurately, I want her to hold me.
Pans clank in the kitchen, and I give up my research to listen. What’s she making? Is she upset with me? When I finally come clean, will she understand why I’ve withdrawn?
An hour later, my internet research is interrupted by a tap on my door.
“Come in.” I’m not wearing a shirt, but she never seems to mind when I walk around the house without one.
She pushes open the door with a hip and carries a tray to the bed. “Dinner. I made that meatloaf you liked so much. And mashed potatoes. And sautéed green beans. There is a bottle of water for a drink. Napkins and silverware are on the tray as well. Is there anything else you want?”
“This looks amazing. Thank you.” I shift to a sitting position. “And an even bigger thank-you for not asking me what’s going on.”
She sets the tray in my lap, then moves the water to the bedside table. “You know where to find me most of the time. If you don’t, call me. I’ll be there when you want to talk.”
I nod, watching as she walks to the door. Just before she slips out, I say, “I love you, Tandy.”
The words tumble straight out of my heart and bypass my filter completely.
She stops in the doorway and waits a couple of heartbeats before looking back over her shoulder. “You must really like that meatloaf.” And then she leaves.
I pop in my earbuds and listen to a fishing podcast while I eat. But tonight, I’m barely listening. It’s like there is a huge countdown on the wall, and it feels dangerously close to zero.
After I finish eating, Tandy brings me another bottle of water, picks up my tray, and stands beside the bed. “Want tea?”
“Not tonight. I’m sorry about?—”
“None of that.”
“Let me talk. I’m sorry for my moodiness. I appreciate the meal, but you don’t have to do all this, Tandy.”
She sets the tray at the foot of the bed and rests her fists on her hips. “I know I don’t have to. I’m at a stage of my life where I mostly do only what I want. I avoid have-tos.” She lifts the tray and leaves.
I’ve been in bed for hours, but I haven’t slept. So I roll over and try to fall asleep on my other side.
But my brain has never been more awake. The worst scenarios play out in my head, and if this keeps up, I’ll never sleep again. I toss and turn, trying to block out all that I read. Maybe I should’ve followed Bernie’s advice. But I didn’t.
The light in the hallway goes off, which means Tandy is going to bed. I no longer want to sit in the dark alone, so I throw back my covers and tromp into her room.
She’s sitting up in bed, her readers resting on her nose as she reads a book. “Yes?”
“What are you reading?”
Tandy tilts the book so that I can see the cover.
“That’s your book.” I’m a little surprised because isn’t part of the fun of reading discovering the story? Tandy has nothing to discover. She wrote it.
“Yes. And it’s a good book. When I need to calm down, I read something I know I’ll like.” She sets the book down and gazes at me as if waiting for me to tell her why I’ve walked into her bedroom at this time of night.
I stroll up to the bed. “Scoot over. I want to cuddle you and talk.”
Without hesitation, she shifts over. “You’re scaring me a bit, Matthew.”
I lie down and hold out my arm for her to snuggle in close. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid. I saw the doctor today.”
“The pains?”
“They’ve subsided, but they got pretty bad the day we were at the old place. That’s why I was in the bathroom so long. I’ve never experienced pain like that. And there were other things I couldn’t ignore.” I explain what happened and that I had an appointment today. “I wasn’t going to say anything until I knew what the results were because it seems horribly unfair to ask you to keep a secret like this, but I can’t do this alone.”
She pushes up, and her lips meet mine. “You aren’t alone. And dagnabbit, I love you too.” Her head settles into the perfect spot over my heart. “What did the doctor say?”
“He told me he needed to run tests to rule out some things. I have several appointments this week. And he also told me not to google my symptoms.”
“And you ignored him, I suppose.”
“I did. Cancer is a possibility.” It’s the first time I’ve said the word out loud, and I hate the way it sounds.
She runs her fingers through the hair on my chest. “Whatever this is, I’ll be here for you while you fight it. And maybe it isn’t the C-word.”
“I hope it isn’t. It feels like I’ve finally found a new normal after being widowed. I love my life. I talked about downsizing, but I didn’t mean a pine box.”
She swats my chest. “Not even remotely funny. And you are not allowed to die. Dying would be way worse than crawling out the window and running away.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Leaving you is the last thing I want to do.”
We lie there, snuggled together. She doesn’t pepper me with questions I can’t answer. Her presence offers a calm I haven’t felt in days. And this woman must be made of pixie dust because the sleep I craved is overtaking me. My own snore wakes me up, and we both roll to our sides.
Spooned behind her, I drape an arm over her waist and whisper, “I love you, Candy girl.”
She snuggles closer. “I love you too.”
Or maybe I’m dreaming. A lot of this feels like a dream.
No matter what little time I have left, I want to spend it with her. I want us to get married, to live in the same house, and to snuggle like this every night.