Finding Forever (Living Again #4) (15 page)

BOOK: Finding Forever (Living Again #4)
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Two weeks had gone by since the day Brant and Lacey spent the afternoon at the river, and it had been the best two weeks of her life. They had spent a lot of time together, whether it was just talking on the phone or texting or actually being with one another. The day when he turned to her after his dad had upset him had been a turning point for both of them. It helped open her eyes to the fact that she wasn’t the only one that had emotional scars, and helping Brant through his actually helped ease some of her own.

Though they had been making it their goal to spend as much time as they could together, they weren’t pushing things. They had still only kissed, which was both infuriating and refreshing all at the same time. Brant had made it very clear that he was doing things differently with her than he ever had before, and that he wanted to do it right.

Lacey realized that she had been staring at her computer screen for a long time, not doing anything. She certainly didn’t have time for that. It was only halfway through Monday, and she had a busy afternoon ahead of her. Throwing the remains to her salad lunch in her garbage can, she noticed the screen of her phone lit up in the partially open drawer.
Probably Brant
, she said to herself. Picking it up, she looked at the number calling her but didn’t recognize it. Maybe he was calling from somewhere else.

“Hello?”

“Lacey Russell?” Nope, not Brant at all. Probably someone trying to sell her something. Ugh, she hated when she answered the phone and couldn’t get off.

“Who’s calling?”

“This is Gina from Dr. Blaise’s office calling for Lacey Russell. Is that you?”

Her stomach dropped. Dr. Blaise’s office? Why? She had seen her weeks ago. “Y-yes, I’m Lacey. What can I do for you?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the young woman said. “Dr. Blaise is having a hard time seeing the film from your mammogram on your left breast. She’d like to have you go to the Radiology Center and redo the left side so she can see it better. They have a more powerful machine.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was something wrong? All of these thoughts started racing through her head, but she couldn’t make any of the words come out of her mouth. “Is there something wrong?”

“Not that I know of, Ms. Russell,” she said calmly, but Lacey felt like throwing up what she had just eaten. If there was no problem, why did they need to see it again on a stronger machine? “Can I give you the number and have you call to schedule an appointment there? You’ll need to call us back and let us know the day you have it done, because Dr. Blaise wants to follow up right after.”

The room started spinning. No. This wasn’t happening. She gripped the desk, trying to tell herself to keep breathing.

“Ms. Russell? It’s okay. Dr. Blaise just wants to be thorough. Would you rather speak to her? I can get her on the phone.” She sounded nervous. “She did say that you needed to do this now. Okay?”

She forced air to go in and out of her lungs, wishing that a black hole would open up and swallow her right now. Lacey needed to respond to her, she knew that. But spots were appearing before her eyes, and she knew if she didn’t get a hold of herself immediately, she was going to pass out.

“C-can you give me the number,” Lacey finally squeaked out, resting her head on the cool desk to try to keep from passing out.
It doesn’t mean something’s wrong
, she repeated to herself. She wrote down the number, then hung up without saying goodbye, trying but failing to keep her composure.

She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, but she knew she was late seeing her patients. She hadn’t moved since hanging up the phone. Her office phone beeped, and she looked at it. Front desk. They were going to think she went off the deep end.

“Dr. Russell.”

“Lacey, you have a visitor. Just seeing if you were in your office.”

He was here. How was it that every time it seemed her life was falling apart, there he was?

There was a small knock on the door, then he opened it, her Knight in Shining Armor. Wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a white tee shirt that hugged his body, he could almost make her forget what just happened. Almost.

“Lacey? Are you okay?”

There was no stopping it. Tears engulfed her, and she stood and ran into his arms. He held her as she shook, tears soaking through his shirt.

She felt his lips next to her ear as he basically held her up so she wouldn’t collapse on the floor. “Whatever it is, Doc, I’m right here. Breathe, honey. Just breathe.” She gripped the back of his shirt in her fists, wishing she could crawl inside him just for a few minutes. She didn’t think she could stop. This was it. The bottom was going to fall out of her life. Brant seemed to realize that she wasn’t able to get a hold of herself. “Lacey, I’m going to tell Dr. Jenkins that I’m taking you home. Okay? Can you sit for a minute and be okay?”

She nodded, and he helped her to the chair. Looking back at her once more, he hurried from the room. She stared at the piece of paper on her desk with the Radiology Center number on it. In what seemed like seconds, Brant opened the door again.

“Let’s go,” he said, helping her stand and take off her white coat. Hanging it on the hook in her office, he took her arm and led her from the room. She still hadn’t said a word since he had walked in; she wasn’t sure she could. Brant put his arm around her shoulders as they made their way through the lobby and outside to his truck. She didn’t say a word about how she would get her car. She didn’t care.

Lacey leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. Brant got in silently and started up the truck, heading out of the parking lot. His fingers stroked her hand, lulling her into a relaxed state as he drove. Every once and a while, her body would shudder, and Brant would pick up her hand and kiss it, but not say a word.

Next thing she knew, he turned off the ignition in her driveway. Had she fallen asleep? She looked over at him, and guilt assaulted her. His face was etched in worry. She knew he was thinking the worst, but she just couldn’t say anything to him yet, afraid that if she did, that would make it true.

He helped her into the house, then sat with her on the couch, holding her. She knew that was exactly what she needed.

 

 

Lacey closed her eyes as the cold metal of the machine pressed her most delicate tissue. She thought she’d not have to do this again until next year, but here she was. It had been two days since she had gotten that phone call. That whole night, she had sat with Brant on her couch, unable to say a word. It had been somewhere around midnight that she had started talking, telling him what had happened. Before then, he had fed her, stroked her, and let her sleep on his shoulder without prodding her at all. She didn’t deserve him, and she knew that.

When he had found out what she had to do, he had dried the tears that came again out of nowhere, reassuring her that things like this happened all the time and that it didn’t mean she was sick. She knew that was true, but to her this was like a neon sign flashing her worst nightmare. He had offered to come with her today, but as much as she appreciated him, she had to do this alone.

Calling Sam and Aubrey had been equally as hard, and though they were both scared, they were also of the opinion that this could be just what it seemed—a follow up on an unclear picture. Lacey wasn’t convinced.

“Almost done,” the tech announced. She knew that was supposed to relax her, but nothing could at this point. She hadn’t eaten or slept much since she got the phone call, and she knew she looked like hell.

“All done,” she finally announced. “I’m going to move you over to a room to wait. Go ahead and keep the gown on and I’m going to give the films to the doctor. Hang tight.”

Wait. They were having her wait here? In the gown? What for? Dread curled in her stomach like an iron fist, and she wished for her phone that was in her purse but knew she wouldn’t use it. No one could help her.

She swore she had counted every ceiling and floor tile in the room by the time the tech came back. Lacey tried to read her face as she entered the room, but she still wore the same expression she had all along.

“Sorry for the delay. The film is still inconclusive.”

“What does that mean?”

“The radiologist wants me to do an ultrasound immediately. I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t answer her question. “Wait. Is there something wrong?”

The girl smiled at her. “It’s just inconclusive. That doesn’t mean anything is wrong, it just means that the film isn’t showing what they want to see. The doctor can explain it better after I’m done with the ultrasound.” With that, she left the room.

An ultrasound. She assumed that meant he was going to look inside her breast tissue for something, or lack of something, but she felt totally at a loss. She wished someone would be frank with her and tell her if she had a reason to be panicking or not. In all of her medical training, she was never trained to know what to do in this scenario.

Before she had too much time to mull it over, the door opened again and the same tech wheeled in a machine with a screen on it. She asked Lacey to lay back on the table and she would put some cold gel on her breast.

Lacey saw what looked like static on a television screen, but nothing else. What was she supposed to look like in there? Was it normal, or not? She never felt anything and neither did Dr. Blaise, so they were just being extra thorough because of her history, right?

The tech kept moving and clicking buttons on the machine, but Lacey couldn’t seem to ask what she was looking for or if it was good or bad what she was seeing on the screen. “Okay, we’re all set. The doctor wants to see you after you get dressed, so meet me in the hallway when you’re ready.”

Oh shit, now she knew this wasn’t good. The feeling she had ever since they called her two days ago was back full force. The doctor wouldn’t be taking time out of his busy schedule to tell her that she was fine and they were sorry for the inconvenience of having to keep her so long.

Somehow she managed to get dressed, her shaking fingers fumbling on the buttons of her pants and shirt. She looked longingly at her phone, the urge to call Brant so strong she almost gave in.
No. He doesn’t need to be involved in this
. After knowing the man three weeks, she wasn’t throwing him into this. It was bad enough he knew all of what she had been through as it was.

When she opened the door to the room, the tech smiled at her again. “Right this way.”

She led her down the hall to a closed office door. She knocked once and then opened the door, where an old man was sitting at the desk, films behind him lit up by backlights so he could see.

“Dr. Edwards? Lacey Russell for you.”

He looked up from the desk, lowering his glasses so he could see her. “Have a seat, Ms. Russell. These are your films on the wall behind me.”

Unease took over her, and she could feel the tremors moving throughout her body. Her stomach roiled, fighting against her nerves. She looked at the films again, wondering if they looked good or what was making him want to meet with her.

“Do you see this pattern of calcium spots? Healthy spots are in an asymmetrical pattern throughout normal breast tissue. Your breast has spots that are in a straight line.”

Lacey blinked. What? She swore that he was speaking another language. What about calcium and spots? She had a doctorate and still wasn’t sure what he was even saying, but then again, she didn’t know what she was seeing on the film, either. “I-I don’t understand.”

“This line here,” he indicated the film, “is an indicator for a tumor.”

She gasped at the word. “Cancer?”

He shrugged like she was asking him his astrological sign. “We need to do a biopsy to be certain what it is, but that is possible.” He sat back in his seat and steepled his fingers, staring at her.

She had seen better bedside manner in the morgue during her school years. Did he just tell her that it’s a very real possibility that she had cancer, then sit back like nothing had happened?

“When you go out, stop at the receptionist desk. We’ve been in contact with Dr. Blaise and she will tell you how to proceed from here. The next step would be a biopsy to be sure what we’re dealing with.”

With that, he flicked the light off behind her films and stood up, effectively dismissing her. Lacey stood, somehow making it out of the room and down the hallway to the receptionist, the word ‘cancer’ echoing around her brain like a shout in a canyon.

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