Three Strikes Ch. 17

I leaned over the bed and ran my fingers through his thick hair.

"Goodbye, love," I whispered, without stirring him from his slumber.

I wanted to spend the day with him. We needed to have a real conversation, something more than me bawling my eyes out followed by sex confessional. It would have to wait. I had to drive home to shower and get ready for work.

*** *** *** ***

I couldn't stop smiling as I drove home. Hell, I couldn't stop while showering, getting ready for work, driving to work, or walking into the hospital. I couldn't stop smiling until after I'd walked to the nurses' station and saw Greg and Tammy (Cal's parents) crying next to Dr. Cahill.

Cal had been sick and getting sicker. No matter what we did, his levels weren't getting better and his side effects were getting worse. We'd talked about transferring him to California if things didn't improve, but it was too late. Seeing them crying caused my stomach to drop through the floor. Then came the anger.

Why hadn't anyone called me?

As I quickly walked toward them, I pleaded within, Please! Not Cal!

I tried to breathe to keep myself calm, but I was shaking and felt the emotional build up. After the last forty-eight hours, I doubted my body knew how to hold back. I'd become accustomed to crying whenever the need arose, much to my own resistance.

As I approached, their cries became louder and I felt my own tears start to roll down my cheeks. If Cal died, I didn't know how I'd cope—I wasn't sure I could. You're never prepared for this stuff.

They all looked at me as I stood next to them. I didn't have the power to speak. I needed them to confirm what I knew—after years of fighting, Cal had finally lost the battle. I wiped the tears from my face as I waited for someone to say something. Instead, Tammy threw herself around me and sobbed, which caused me to follow suit.

I cried softly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Calvin. I didn't even get to say goodbye."

While rubbing my back, she said. "It's okay. We're not leaving."

"But Cal—"

"Cal's probably awake by now if you want to see him."

I blinked. Wait—what? I pulled back and looked at her.

"He's—awake?"

"Yes, and feeling better!" She smiled.

She actually looked happy, despite her tear-stained face.

"I'm confused. Why are you guys crying if he's okay? If he's—better?"

Greg and Tammy looked at each other, then at the Doctor, and the three of them looked at me as Dr. Cahill handed me the tablet with all of Calvin's information. It took me a minute to register what I was reading, then I swiped back to make sure I was looking at the correct patient's chart. Then I looked at the lab results, again, to confirm I wasn't crazy before I looked at the Doctor with confusion.

"How?"

"I have no idea. A miracle? Maybe his body just needed more time than normal, which is normal considering how long he's been fighting. We're going to run the labs again in two days, to be thorough, but I'm hopeful. Everything's looking good, including Calvin."

I tossed the tablet back to Dr. Cahill and practically ran to Calvin's room. As I slid into the doorway, I noticed he was sitting up on his bed. He still looked terrible, but a better terrible—he was alive and that was pretty damn awesome!

After giving me a once over, he asked.

"Who died?"

I physically jumped into a seated position on his bed.

"Not you! That's who. I came in to work and found your parents bawling their eyes out and I guess I might've jumped to conclusions."

"Well, you can't get rid of me that easy," he teased.

"That's what I'm talking about!" I raised my hand for a fist bump, which he happily returned.

I put my arm around him and pulled him toward me. It wasn't until I had him nestled against my chest that I was confident everything was okay. I had other patients who needed me, but first, I needed a few minutes to emotionally recuperate from Cal's near-death experience.

I hadn't dealt with too much loss. I'd been lucky enough that most of my patients went on to live happy, and mostly healthy lives. That didn't mean I hadn't suffered the loss of a few patients, but I couldn't imagine it'd ever become something you'd grow accustomed to.

Cal might've been alive and breathing against me, but I was still mourning the ninety seconds I'd thought he was gone. I didn't ask how he was feeling because that was one of the many questions they (cancer patients) all got asked one hundred times a minute from every person they encountered. I made it my mission to bring as much normality to their lives as possible by asking about their lives, friends, food, TV—things that made them feel normal.

After beating around the bush, I decided to ask how things were going with Daisy (the girl he'd been crushing on). They'd hung out a few times, but things didn't move too fast since they were tweens who spent most of their lives fighting cancer. He'd been fussing over her for a while, but I realized I hadn't heard a peep in several weeks and, of course, I'd been stuck in my own drama to notice something was up.

"It didn't work out. At first, I thought she, you know, ticked all of my boxes!" He smiled and raised his brow, which earned a soft thump to the forehead for cocky behavior.

He rubbed his forehead and moaned. "Ow! I thought you were going to be nice to me since I didn't die and all."

"I am nice, that's why it was a soft thump." I winked. "Anyway, continue with your story, Don Juan."

He looked across the room with confusion and I saw him mouth Don Juan? The name clearly went over his head.

"Well, I don't know about that Don Juan, but Daisy was—" Cal's face contorted as he was clearly anxious about his next words. With a stressed smile, he asked, "Will you promise not to say anything?"

Cal visibly relaxed after I gave him an encouraging nod. That was all he'd needed to leave his hesitancy at the door and spill months' worth of frustration, the only way a tween knows how—by talking a-mile-a-minute.

"Oh-my-god, Doo Doo! (I rolled my eyes at the never-ending nick name) From a distance, she was cute and on paper she seemed awesome. Every boys dream. But—well, it's like—I was watching MTV one day and watched a 'Catfish' marathon, have you ever seen it? It's nuts. I realized I got catfished. No joke, Doo. Daisy is nuts! No, wait, Daisy is crazy! Crazy Daisy, that's what I was calling her, in my head of course. I'd never be that disrespectful in person, but yeah, in my head I was calling her Crazy Daisy. She always said, 'Omg, Cally', which drove me nuts because my name is Calvin, and I told her that, but she kept calling me Cally, like I was a girl. 'Cally, what if one of us dies? If you die, I'll die! I just can't live without you, you're my bae!' And I was like, 'Well, I have cancer, you know? So, I might die. Also, you have cancer, so you might die.' She didn't think that was very funny, like, at all!"

He shook his head in disbelief as he recalled the conversation.

"The worst part though? All the grownups were so excited about young love that I was trapped. Turns out you can't dump a cancer kid! Even if you're a cancer kid! It's still frowned upon! I'm not being dramatic here, but I swear on Vincristine [a popular chemo drug] that I was dying...to get away from her! Do you think it's a coincidence that, after I dumped her and finally got her to leave me alone, I miraculously felt better?"

The look on his face was challenging me to prove otherwise and I couldn't help but crack up. Kids are hilarious. Catfished? Hardly, but listening to his ramblings and his valley girl impressions of Daisy was still hilarious.

"I don't know why you're laughing because I blame you. Your check list is stupid."

"It's not an exact science, it's more of a general guidebook—troubleshooting, if you will."

"Isn't troubleshooting supposed to help you get out of trouble, not slowly kill you?"

His seriousness caused me to bark with laughter. There was a reason Cal was one of my favorites.

"You're still so young. You have to build the book up and, one day, it'll come in handy, I promise. You had to have learned at least one thing you didn't realize was important—something you're going to add to the list."

"Yeah, a non-negotiable box labeled not a crazy bitch!"

He froze at his curse, our heads snapped toward each other as we stared at the other with wide eyes, we both started to laugh (at the same time), I lifted my hand for a high five, and our hands collided as we laughed.

"Amen, brother. That's an important one."

I pulled him in tighter. I was thankful he felt better. I'd missed Cal, it felt good to have him back. We talked for a while longer before I had to peel myself away to see other patients.

*** *** *** ***

It'd been several hours before I was able to find my way back to his room.

"I forgot to ask earlier, but what about you? What did you learn from Booty Shane?" Cal asked.

I set a snack tray by the bed and looked at him with confusion, then chuckled at Shane's name and the image of Shane's reaction if he'd ever got called that to his face. I hadn't shared much with Cal about what'd happened with Shane. It was pretty hypocritical of me since I shared so much of my life, except when it wasn't shiny and fun, but he knew we broke up and that it was, of course, all Shane's fault since that's how I'd felt until a few days ago.

I let out a heavy breath and relaxed in the chair next to his bed.

"Remember when you said I was the best person in the whole world? A living god among men—a demigod—the original cast of which all men strive to be, but always fall short?"

He shook his head with confusion. "What? I never said—"

"Shut up kid, you said it. I remember and now you need to remember."

Cal shook his head and rolled his eyes with all of the drama a tween could manage, which was a lot.

"Oh sure, I guess I remember saying something, once, when I was drugged to the brim with the newest experimental cancer cocktail."

Tweens: The Kings and Queens of dramatic theatre.

"Jerk," I laughed. "Well, it turns out—," I paused and glanced around, "do you promise not to tell anyone?"

He nodded.

"Okay, good. It turns out I'm...flawed. I know, I know. It came as a shock to me, too and I might've been a little hard on...Booty Shane. I'm not excusing the crappy things he did, but I also had to acknowledge my shortcomings, which was really, really difficult."

"So, are you guys back together?"

I pursed my lips.

"I don't know. We talked last night (he didn't need to know that by talk, I meant crying and sex), but I don't know if anything was officially sorted. Lots of things were said, but it was—" During an emotional time and you can't always trust the things that are said. But I couldn't explain that to him. "We need to have another conversation."

"Well, I hope you guys figure it out. He's cool. I like him."

"You don't even know him," I laughed.

"Yeah, I do. He was here the other day when you were off. We hung out and he brought me a book. He said he didn't think he needed it anymore. That he was a lost cause and it was too complex for him, but I was young and had a lot of time to practice to get it right. He's funny though, all this fuss and it was just a stupid coloring book. I don't know why he was so hard on himself, look," he grabbed the book off of the shelf next to him and started to flip through it. "Half of the book is colored and he's really good. Like, really, really good."

I grabbed the book from him and flipped through it. It was the kids coloring book I'd given him after his terrible park job, nothing fancy or difficult, but damn if it wasn't beautifully colored and shaded. I shouldn't have been surprised because he loved to draw and wanted to be an architect.

I also couldn't help the cinching in my chest as I imagined a sulking Shane pouting about the Pediatric Oncology ward while handing out mementos of our lost love to kids he barely knew. Actually, it was kind of funny, but the part that hurt most was how I'd made him feel.

I clutched the book against my chest, "Can I keep this?" I asked.

"Sure, I can't measure up to him anyway. Not just coloring, either, the guys a beast. Doo Doo, he was actually bench-pressing kids. Bench pressing! He pressed little Greg like—twenty times!"

I laughed, "What the hell goes on here when I'm gone?"

The vision of Shane interacting and loving on my kids was heaven and I was sad to have missed it, although, I doubt I would've appreciated it at the time.

"This place goes to hell, except when Shane was here...that was fun. You should've heard the nurses though, they were drooling over him. Pam was like 'mmm he can press me anytime'...it was disgusting."

I made a sour face while thinking about Shane pressing into anyone, especially a woman. My body convulsed at the thought. Eww.

Cal laughed as he watched me being grossed out.

"Exactly! But it was still fun. He was chasing after some of the other kids and my water glass was shaking, like on Jurassic Park when the T-rex is coming, except it was just Shane. It was funny."

Just as the words left his mouth, the water in the plastic cup (sitting next to his food) rippled. We looked at it, then each other, and Cal pointed at the water with shock, just before there was a knock on the door. Our eyes widened and our heads snapped to the entrance.

Inside, I was laughing because I knew it was Dan, the big Samoan guy who cleaned up the trash. He was big, but where Shane was solid muscle and brute strength, Dan was a family-sized bag of potato chips, washed down with a two liter of Cola every day. I looked at Cal just as the door opened, not wanting to miss the look of disappointment when it wasn't Shane's face that peaked through. Cal's eyes widened and his mouth dropped.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled as I looked at the door.

It wasn't potato chip Dan, it was Booty Shane...my Booty Shane. I looked at Cal and the second we made eye contact we both started to laugh uncontrollably. What were the odds that Shane would show up, let alone right after Cal had talked about him making the water ripple like a prehistoric dinosaur?

Shane stood there while Cal and I spent too many seconds unable to control ourselves.

"I'm sorry. Timing. Too funny." I finally pulled myself together, grabbed my work tablet and the coloring book, and said goodbye to Cal before ushering Shane out of the door.

We were standing near the nurses' station when we finally stopped walking.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I wiped tears of hysteria from my face, which was loads better than the tears of emotional brokenness I had been shedding.

"Working and seeing if you were going to have lunch soon."

It wasn't awkward between us, except it kind of was.

I'd dumped him, he'd asked me back (multiple times), I'd denied him (multiple times), and I'd embarrassed him then myself. If that wasn't enough, I showed up at his house, cried for hours, followed by the best night of sex and professions of love, but no solid resolution. Were we together? Friends? One last night before parting ways? I definitely assumed (hoped) it meant we were together, but there was no room for assumptions.

"Sure, I can do lunch. Just let me finish up really quick. Ten minutes?"

"Sure, I'll wait here."

I hustled to the nurses' station to make sure it was okay to take my lunch break. The girls didn't seem to have a problem with it so I told them I'd finish up real fast and leave—I had to check in with another patient before wrapping things up.

As I made my way back to the nurses' station, I saw Shane holding Iris, which was strange because she was the shyest kiddo I'd ever met in my life. She barely spoke a word to anyone, yet, there she was, nestled into Shane's chest with her face tucked against his neck.

I could've died at that moment if it weren't for the two female nurses standing in front of him and fawning, excessively, over his every word. Did the little birdies not know he was an elephant? Such a waste of their time. I might've been jealous if they had dicks, but alas, they had nothing on me. Still, I needed them to know—I needed everyone to know. While Shane affectionately rubbed Iris' back—she was stupidly adorable—I asked.

"Are you ready for lunch?"

"Mm, hm."

He tried to set her down, but she clung to him like a monkey. We all laughed while he tried to gently dispose of the small child before giving the nurses a pleading look, which of course, they couldn't resist. Pam reached out and pried the poor little girl from Shane's chest.

"I feel you kid. It's a hard loss." I winked at the nurses and was amused at the look on their faces as they processed my words.

"Well, that's—"

"Incredibly disappointing," Pam finished the other nurse's sentence before sulking away.

Shane was smiling when I looked at him.

"Lunch?"

I nodded and followed him out. I knew we had much to talk about, yet I had no idea what would come of it.