Unbelievable (37 page)

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Authors: Sherry Gammon

BOOK: Unbelievable
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“I want to make a series of videos of us doing things, like reading Shakespeare together, maybe I can get some footage of you painting, or biting that lip of yours.” She smiled ever so slightly. I’d take it, no matter how small. Anything was better than seeing pain on her face. “Then
, no matter what happens, I’ll have the memories and can look back at them. Maybe they’ll help me to recall everything.” I didn’t tell her that there was a chance my emotions might be messed up after the surgery also, and that I may not love her anymore; or worse, not care either way. The very idea of forgetting my love for her suffocated me. I finally found a woman who filled my world, and I could very well not care about her after the surgery.

“We don’t have much time. When’s the surgery?” She looked down at her watch.

“Not ‘til Friday.”

“But shouldn’t you go in now?”

“No, Friday’s good. The surgeon, Dr. Maxwell, said I should . . . she feels Friday will be fine.” I didn’t dare repeat her exact words, “
Get things in order, Cole, just in case
.” Not unless I wanted to see Lilah in full meltdown mode again. “That gives us a few days to make the videos. I spent most of the night figuring out how to use this,” I waved my phone, “so we can get started right away.” I held out my hand to her and she wrapped both of hers around it as we left.

Many of the nurses avoided eye contact with me. Of course, they all knew the seriousness of what was going on. A few smiled weakly
; some teared up. People handle things so differently, which was why I decided not to mention that the tumor may be cancerous. No sense in freaking everybody out. Not yet, anyway.

 

Lilah and I agreed to meet at Applegate Park in an hour. I needed to talk to Seth and Maggie first. I called Booker and he agreed to meet me there. I chuckled as I pulled up to the house. The POC Mobile was already parked in the driveway.

Taking a deep breath, I entered the house that felt more like a home to me than my own place.

“Cole.” Maggie rushed to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “We’ve been so worried,” she said, her blue eyes tight. She took my arm and led me inside. Seth and Booker, both sitting on the leather couch, stood as I approached the family room.

“Cole, again, I’m so sorry,” Booker said, struggling to keep his voice leveled.

“Actually, your friend probably saved my life.” I walked in and sat in the recliner next to the couch. Everyone sat back down but leaned forward, tight faced. “They found a mass in my temporal lobe. I’m going in on Friday to have it removed.”

Okay, Cole, that was smooth
.

Maggie sat back, her face stripped of color, as was Seth’s. Booker shot to his feet and crossed the room, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. No one spoke for several moments as the news sunk in.

“Tell us,” Booker said, turning back to face me, “what’s the prognosis?” He didn’t say cancer. I knew he wouldn’t. He lost his father to cancer.

“My prognosis is excellent. We caught it early, and it doesn’t appear to have spread, but there is a problem. Well, maybe a problem. We won’t know for sure until after the surgery.”

“What kind of problem?” Maggie leaned forward again.

“There’s a chance that by removing the tumor, the surrounding tissue could suffer some damage. Being in the right temporal lobe, it could affect my memory—both short and long term.”

“You’ll forget us?” Maggie said, wiping her palms on her pants.

“Not forget you, more like forget things that have happened. Get-togethers we’ve had may be lost to me. I may forget a dinner here and there . . . which brings me to my point. I’d like to make a few videos talking about old times, just in case I do lose some things.” I glanced over at Booker. “You can call me Doc, tease me about my many bandages,” I suggested. He smiled weakly.

Seth went to a bookshelf, pulling out an anatomy text book from a course he’d taken last spring. I didn’t want him to do that. It’d only upset everyone.

“That’s not all,” Seth said, scanning the pages before I could think of a way to stop him. “That area also regulates things like personality and speech. You may never work again as a doctor.”

“Like I said, we caught it early. I just don’t think any of this is an issue.”

“Then why are we making videos?” Booker snapped.

“Just in case,” I assured everyone calmly.

“Lilah,” Maggie said, half under her breath. “She must be devastated.” Booker rolled his eyes and
turned away again.

“I’m not dying,” I said in exasperation.

“Have you called your parents?” Booker asked, staring out the window.

“No. I’ll call them after it’s over and we know more.”

“You don’t think they’d want to know their son has a tumor? Maybe even fly out and be here for the surgery?” Booker insisted.

“Yes, I’m sure they would, but I don’t want them here because of everything that’s been going on lately,” I said, carefully, knowing exactly how Booker would react.

“You’re cutting your family off because of Lilah? Doesn’t that tell you something?” Booker’s face flushed with anger as he spoke.

“Not because of Lilah, Book. Because of her
father
. I don’t want my family to become targets of revenge in this man’s sick mind.” I took a deep breath, hoping to calm myself. I didn’t want this to end in an argument.

Booker pressed on. “If she hadn’t come here in the first place, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Sorry, Book, but that’s not quite right,” Seth interjected. “If you and I hadn’t joined the MET, then this wouldn’t have been an issue. Harry Dreser would’ve come here for revenge with or without his daughter. He simply manipulated her into helping.”

“That’s right.” Maggie stood. “Lilah has nothing to do with her father coming here. If anything, she’s helped us know so you can prepare.”

I fought the urge to rub my pounding temples. I stood and padded into the kitchen for a drink of water and some aspirin. The whole thing had quickly spun out of control. Seth followed with the textbook still in his hand.

“Please stop with that book. You’re making everyone crazy.” My knotted stomach only allowed a few swallows of water. I set the cup in the sink.

“Sorry. It sounds like this is bigger than you’re letting on, is all,” he said quietly. “Is there a chance it could be cancer?”

“My prognosis is good, Seth. I’m worried about losing my memories, especially of Lilah. You and I have thousands of memories
. If I lose a few of those it’s no biggie,” I explained, careful to avoid the topic of cancer. “But my time with Lilah’s been brief. What if I lose everything we’ve had together?”

Seth set the book down on the counter. “I suggest we think positive. No sense driving ourselves nuts, right? Like you said, the prognosis is good.” I looked at Seth and his forced smile. “It’ll be okay. I’ll talk Booker off the ledge. Truthfully, I’m worried about him almost as much as I am about you right now. He looks bad, almost as bad as he did when Mags stayed with him.”

“Agreed. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” I said, heading for the door. “I have to go. I’m meeting up with Lilah to make a few videos with her. I’ll come by tomorrow, if that works for you.” I wanted to get out before Book came in the kitchen and lectured me about spending my last days with Lilah.

“I’ll make it work. Please stay with us. I’d feel better knowing you’re here, around people rather than alone at your house,” Seth said, walking me to the door. “Just in case.” He patted my shoulder.

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.”

I jogged to my car, wanting to spend every second I could with Lilah. I drove straight to the park, spotting her as she opened her car trunk and removed a large paper bag, along with a blue blanket.

I pulled up next to her. “Hello, beautiful,” I said out my window.

She leaned in and kissed me. “Hello, sexy. Hungry?”

“Depends. Are we talking about food or about more of those kisses of yours?” I grinned, proud of my much improved flirting skills.

“Both. . . At least
, I hope both.” She opened my door for me and I took her bag as we walked over to a grove of trees in the park.

“Should we sit under the oak tree?” I asked.

“Lets. I love oak trees. Have you ever seen the Angel Oak in South Carolina?” she asked, spreading the blanket out and settling onto it. She kept a smile on her face, no doubt trying to be positive for me, only the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Fear did, maybe even a little sorrow.

“I’ve seen pictures of the tree. The thing’s huge.” I handed her the bag. She pulled out several paper boxes like those you’d get at a Chinese restaurant and set them out. “What is all this?” I pointed to the containers.

“I’ve been thinking about the fact that you may forget me—”

“Not you, Lilah, things, small snippets of time.” I hoped to reassure her everything would be fine. No sense in both of us worrying.

“Cole, in the grand scheme of things, you and I have only been together for a small snippet of time,” she pointed out soberly. “I’m hoping that maybe, if we create strong memories, memories that are unforgettable, then you’ll still remember me.”

Her words carried new waves of anguish through me. “What’s the strong memory you have in mind this afternoon?”

“I thought we could try different, unique foods. This is calamari…which I hate, just for the record, and this is escargot, another yuck on my list. And this is poi,” she said, pointing to a third container, “which I’ve never had, but have always wanted to try.”

“What about the other four?” I pointed with my chin.

“We can’t know what those are. It will help us be more objective.” She smiled sinisterly.

“You’re going to try the mystery foods, too?” I questioned, not too eager about the whole thing. Truthfully, meat and potatoes were my preference.
Okay, Opie, time to step out of your comfort zone.

“Of course. I’m not going to let you have all the fun,” she teased. I couldn’t help myself
; I leaned in and kissed her soundly.

Breathless, she pulled back and said, “If you’re going to kiss me like that, I’m buying calamari more often.” She handed me an eye mask.

“What’s this for?” I took the silky black thing in my hand.

“You can’t see what you’re eating. It will enhance the mystery,” she said.

“Lilah, I know we’re making memories, but I’m recording them on my phone.” I waved my phone in the air between us. “If I can’t see, then I can’t record.”

She took the phone from me. “I’ll record you, and then you can record me,” she said, as if it were obvious.

To my surprise, I liked everything, even the calamari. When I finished, she handed me a notepad and pen and had me list what I thought the foods were. “Don’t show me,” she said.

While she secured the mask, I got my phone ready. “Wait, you already know what this stuff is. You’ll get them all right.”

“I know about the calamari and snails. The poi I’ve never had, though you’re right, I do know one of these is poi. As for the rest, I told the guy at the deli what I was doing and had him put random things in the containers. He wrote what each is on the bottom.” She beamed proudly at her ingenuity.

“You’re very clever.” I leaned in and kissed her, startling her. She recovered quickly, driving her hands into my hair and kissing me back with zeal.

“I didn’t expect you to kiss me. I’m not complaining, mind you.” She adjusted the mask I’d messed up. “Okay, let’s start.”

To my surprise, Lilah didn’t like
most of the foods. She took one bite of the calamari and pulled a sour face. I handed her a napkin to spit it into. She tolerated the snail and hated the poi. “Wallpaper paste,” she complained as she forced it down her throat. Not surprisingly, her expressions were animated. A pinched brow, wrinkled nose, pursed lips. I found myself laughing so hard I had a difficult time recording her.

She tugged off the mask after trying the last food sample, and quickly wrote down her guesses, not counting t
he three we already knew about.

“Duck liver, yuck,” she grimaced, reading the tag on the bottom of a container. “Steamed dumplings. Not too bad,” she said
, setting another back down.

“I liked the dumplings.” I picked it up and finished the carton off as she continued.

“This one’s black mushroom bean curd. I didn’t like it.” She scrunched her face as I nodded in agreement.

“I think Booker made bean curd once, only his tasted ten times better.” I picked up the last container. “I loved this one.” I scooped another piece of the chocolate into my mouth as did Lilah. “What did you guess it was?” I asked.

Lilah glanced at the notebook. “Chocolate covered walnuts. And you said chocolate covered almonds. Do you want to bet who’s right before we look?”

“Sure. If I’m right I get a five minute kiss,” I said, a mischievous grin on my lips.

“Fine. If I’m right I want a seven minute kiss,” Lilah bargained.

“So even if I lose, I win. Works for me.” I turned the camera on just in time to catch Lilah tossing the container in the air, and turning to spit in the grass.

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