The Price (41 page)

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Authors: Cary West

BOOK: The Price
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“How long has this been going on?” she asked Jack.

“Since she started chemo,” he said worriedly, staring at the contents that was definitely not red licorice but blood.

“What is she taking for it?” she questioned.

“Nothing,” said Jack. “Why? Should she be?”

“I’ll be right back,” she stated, ignoring his last question.

Several minutes later, she returned with the doctor as Kate went for another round of gagging and dry heaving.

“Give her thirty cc’s of Zofran,” the doctor instructed. “And twenty cc’s of Darvocet.”

The nurse left the room while the doctor observed the young woman continuing to vomit. The nurse returned and gave Kate the injections.

“This should help,” he stated placing his hand on her back. “Give it a few minutes to work.”

He waited and watched for the medication to take hold and for the vomiting to cease. Jack walked over to the sink and reached for some paper towels. He wet them then returned to his wife and washed her face and mouth. Kate felt spent, now that the episode had passed. She could barely stay sitting.

“I need to lie down,” she said in a raspy voice to Jack.

Jack helped her lie back on the exam table.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered to her, and took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Just rest for a minute while I talk to the doctor.”

Kate closed her eyes but listened as Jack spoke.

“This isn’t normal.” Jack looked to the doctor for answers.

“I think we should admit your wife to the hospital and run some tests,” Dr. Bell advised. “She’s severely dehydrated, and I’m guessing her stomach has ulcerated.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Kate’s eyes darted open. She grabbed Jack’s arm and wouldn’t let go. “Don’t let him take me, please, Jack.”

He saw the fear in her eyes and his heart broke.

“What would you do for her in the hospital that you can’t do here?” asked Jack.

“She needs fluids,” said Dr. Bell. “and she should be monitored. Like I said before, I suspect she is suffering from a stomach ulcer.”

“It’s not from the chemo?” Jack questioned.

“It could be a result of the chemotherapy,” he stated, though if it was, this presented a problem. “Your wife is a very sick woman, Mr. McBride. I strongly recommend we admit her at least overnight to hydrate her.”

“Kate, baby,” said Jack as he leaned down and stroked her cheek. “Will you do
just one night?

“No,” she started to cry. She knew it would not be
just one night
. One night would lead into two and then into three and before she knew it she would never get out of here and go home. “Can’t they hydrate me here?”

“Can you do that?” asked Jack, looking up at the doctor.

“We could give her a bag of IV fluids along with her treatment but it wouldn’t be enough,” he said. “She needs to be monitored to make certain her kidneys don’t shut down.”

“I don’t want her starting chemo again until we get her vomiting under control,” said Jack firmly.

He couldn’t have agreed with the young man more. Just then his cell phone rang and he removed it from the pocket of his white coat.

All three sat in silence, watching the good doctor speak in hushed tones. It didn’t take him long, but when Dr. Bell turned to face them, his countenance had changed, taking on a grim expression as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

“Was that the results of the blood test?” Jack questioned, placing a barrier between Kate and the doctor.

“Mr. McBride, can I talk to you in the hall?” said Dr. Bell.

Jack mechanically nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to Kate and brushed a kiss to her lips. “Clara will be right here with you.”

Jack nodded to Clara and she took his place beside Kate. Dr. Bell opened the door and motioned for Jack to step in the hall.

Jack entered the long corridor and Dr. Bell closed the exam door.

“I have the results of your wife’s blood test and PET scan,” said Dr. Bell. He was calm and detached and Jack braced himself for what the doctor was going to say next. “The cancer has metastasized throughout her lymph nodes and her blood count is off the charts.”

“What does that mean?” asked Jack as a gripping fear knotted his gut.

“It means your wife’s prognosis is not good,” the doctor stated. “The chemotherapy would only be given for palliative measures in order to give her a better quality of life for as long as she has left. The choice is yours.”

Jack felt like he was hit in the gut. He leaned against the wall for support as his legs went heavy, and he feared he was going to collapse.

“So what you’re telling me is either way it doesn’t matter,” said Jack, choking on his own words.

“No, I’m recommending she take the chemo,” stated Dr. Bell.” And be admitted to the hospital for observation.”

“And if I say no?” Jack feared the worst.

“Then I recommend she be put on hospice immediately,” he advised. “They will administer only palliative treatment until the end and my job will be done.”

“How much time do we have if we do the chemo?”

“Six months, maybe a year.”

“And without the chemo?” asked Jack.

“Maybe a month or two at best,” he stated. “It’s hard to say, but that’s my best guess.”

“I promised Kate I wouldn’t let her die.” Jack’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m still inclined to think the same. There must be another way.”

“I wish I could offer you a magic cure.” Dr. Bell placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “But I can’t.”

“I need to think about this for a spell,” said Jack as he ran his fingers through his hair. “My wife has set her mind to go home today and I’m thinking we need to talk and figure out what she wants to do. For today at least can you give her the fluids here and tomorrow we’ll call you with our decision?”

“I can do that,” he said. “I’ll also send you home with a script to stop the nausea and pain.”

“Thanks, doc,” said Jack.

“I’ll have Betty get her IV ready. When you’re both ready, take a seat by the lounge chairs.”

Jack nodded and watched the doctor stroll down the hall before disappearing into another exam room. Jack ran his hand over his face then rubbed his temples trying to grasp everything the doctor told him.

No
, he shook his head.
Not like this.
Not Kate—not his lovely Kate.

How could he let her go? He couldn’t. Millions of thoughts went through his head at once, jagged emotions, now raw, gripped at his heart and soul. How could he tell her she was dying when he couldn’t accept it himself? How was he going to walk back in the room and pretend for the moment that everything was fine? He may be a strong man, but this went beyond what he was capable of enduring.

He thought about his son and a gasp stuck in his throat. He was too young to lose his mother. Jack was five when he lost his, and his only memory was a single image of a fair-haired woman. Jesse would have no memory at all, of the extraordinary mother he would never know. That tore at Jack’s heart most of all.

Jack needed to go back in before Clara came out looking for him. He wiped his eyes with the back of his shirt sleeve then slowly took a deep breath and exhaled. He opened the door like he was in a fog, a forced smile pressed against his cheeks.

“Good news.” Jack walked up to Kate still lying on the exam table. “The doc says you don’t have to be admitted to the hospital if you don’t want to. He’s making arrangements for you to get some fluids right here before we go home.”

“That’s a relief,” Kate sighed. “What would I do without you?”

He thought the same thing about her and bit his lip in order not to fall apart.

“Let’s get you over to the lounge chairs,” he said. “Can you walk or do you need for me to carry you?”

“I’m actually feeling a little better,” said Kate. “I think I can walk if you help me up.”

Jack helped her into a sitting position. He saw Clara staring at him and he looked away. Kate stood and Jack escorted her to the door. They stepped into the hallway and headed for the long line of lounge chairs with Clara following behind. Jack got Kate situated in the chair then went to search for the nurse.

“What’s going on, Jack?” asked Clara as she followed him to the nurse’s station.

“I can’t talk about it right now, “ said Jack as his reserve was ready to crumble. “Where is that nurse with Kate’s IV?”

He looked around the room but didn’t see the silver-haired woman. He needed to see her and get Kate situated. Where was she?
Where is that damn nurse with the simple bottle of fluids?

“Jack,” said Clara, and she turned him to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he laughed at the absurdity of the question. “Where is that damn, fucking nurse! Can’t she see Kate is too frail to be sitting and waiting for someone to bring her that damn stupid IV? I mean it’s not like she has all day to squander when she could only have a month or maybe two at best. Can’t anyone tell me why they’re wasting what little time she has left?”

Jack looked to Clara for the answers. Their eyes met and Clara finally understood. Jack broke down and began to sob with Clara folding him into her arms.

“Oh God, she’s dying, and I let her down,” he sobbed. “I promised her I wouldn’t let her die and now I’m going back on my word. Oh God, Clara, she’s dying!
My Kate is dying
!”

“Oh, Jack!” Clara held him tighter.

“What am I going to do? I can’t lose her! I love her so much!”

“I know, sweetie,” she said trying to soothe him as her own heart was breaking because she was about to lose her best friend. “Does Kate know?”

“No,” he shook his head and cried harder. “How am I going to tell her?”

“Now you listen to me, Jack McBride,” said Clara, placing both hands on the side of his head and forcing him to look at her. “Right now you have to pull yourself together. Kate’s waiting for you and if you fall apart now, she’ll never get through this day.”

“I know,” said Jack, and he wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.

“You have to be strong for just a little while longer,” said Clara. “Once you’re home you can have your melt down but right now Kate needs you, and I’ll be here to help you through it.”

“You’re right.” Jack shook his head in order to clear it. “I need to stop thinking about me and start thinking about Kate.”

“That a boy,” she said, though her own heart was shattering in two. “Now let’s get back to Kate before she wonders where we ran off to.”

Clara took Jack’s hand and led him back to the long line of lounge chairs. They arrived just in time as the nurse was finishing up hooking Kate to her IV. Jack took a seat next to his wife while Clara sat across from them.

“Where were you two?” Kate asked.

“We were looking for the nurse,” said Clara. “But I guess you found her before we did.”

Kate looked over at Jack and saw his red eyes.

“You okay, baby?”.

“I should be asking you the same question,” he said, taking her free hand and giving it a little squeeze. “You feeling okay?”

“Nothing that a good nap wouldn’t cure,” she forced a smile.

“Why don’t you stretch out on the lounge chair and rest for a while.”

“I’d much prefer to take a nap at home with you,” said Kate.

“That may be a problem seeing that thing is leaking slower than molasses,” exclaimed Jack. “But I can grant part of your wish.”

Jack stood from his chair and stepped in front of Kate.

“Move over baby and let me in.” He smiled at her.

Kate slid over and Jack climbed in-to the seat. It was tight but Kate didn’t care. She snuggled against him, laying her head on his chest.

“Much better,” she whispered.

“Now go to sleep.” He reached for the knitted throw on the other chair and draped it over them.

Kate closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his beating heart. Its soothing tones lulled her and she fell into a restful sleep. She slept for the next hour drifting in and out of a state of slumber all the while dreaming of black stallions and locomotives. On several occasions, she mumbled aloud, speaking the stallion’s name.

“Did she just say
Black Thunder
?” asked Clara and laughed.

“Ever since she got sick, she dreams about that blasted horse,” said Jack in a hushed voice so not to disturb Kate. “Even after her surgery the first words out of her mouth in recovery was Black Thunder—not me, but Black Thunder.”

“You jealous?” asked Clara.

“No, but if she’s going to be calling out a wild stallion’s name it should be mine,” he frowned.

“Getting rather territorial there, aren’t we Jack,” she laughed.

“Maybe,” he answered as he heard Kate whisper the steed’s name again and stir. “Shh baby, it’s all right.”

His calming words seemed to help and she stilled in his arms. After that Jack sat quiet so not to disturb Kate. He stroked her back and closed his eyes.

Don’t leave me, Kate
, his mind cried out.
Please don’t leave me
. He fought the tears from coming a third time. He clung to her like a desperate man beckoning her to live; willing her with his mind. They would need to talk about what to do next but for now all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms while she slept.

THIRTY-ONE

THE ANCIENT WAY

Kate lay on the couch with a blanket thrown over her legs. She watched Jack roughhouse with their son on the floor—too exhausted to participate.

God, she loved to see the two of them together. Jack crouched down on all fours and chased Jesse around the room, whinnying like a horse. He caught up with the youngster and hovered over him, trapping him under his torso. Jesse released a happy screech then scampered away under Jack’s legs. He caught Jesse again and nuzzled the boy’s neck, snorting in his ear.

“I dreamed of him again,” said Kate, watching Jack roll Jesse on his back and tickle his belly.

“Who?” asked Jack half-listening.

“Black Thunder.”

“I should’ve figured.” He looked up at her and was taken aback for a second, thinking he would see the old Kate instead of the shell of a woman he was viewing now. “You were mumbling his name while you were sleeping this afternoon.”

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