I turned to my closet. Alice was right, time to let my inner mermaid shine. Now, where was that blue sequin dress?
Chapter 7: Cooper
I got home just before the nausea smacked me hard. I should have known from that first wave at The Glass Mermaid that I was in for a rough day, but the events that unfolded thereafter had caught me so off guard that I’d forgotten, for a moment, about my illness.
Once back in Gran’s house, however, there was no forgetting. I rushed to the bathroom and unceremoniously threw up my paltry breakfast. But that was just the start of it. I dragged myself to the living room, lay down on Gran’s old flower print couch, and barfed up air and stomach acid for the next two hours.
Using every bit of willpower I had, I forced myself into the kitchen to grab a ginger ale and some meds. The doc told me that the nausea would only be bad like this after the chemo, but it wasn’t true. It had been more than two months since my last treatment, and the nausea still hadn’t gone away.
I sat at the kitchen table sipping the drink and staring at the magnets covering Gran’s fridge. As I did so, I was taken back to my childhood, and I suddenly remembered sitting in the exact same spot, looking at the exact same magnets, drinking the same soda, while I listened to my mother retching in the bathroom. Gran had spoken softly, trying to soothe and comfort her. They didn’t know it was cancer until my mother was but skin and bones. She was gone just three months after they realized cancer was shredding her pancreas and ripping through her whole body. When I first got sick, I’d thought it was the flu. I’d hoped it was the flu. But it lasted too long, and I knew before the doctor had even told me.
“You’re young and strong,” had been the words that followed the first prognosis. “You’ll beat it.”
But the words changed as the months passed. “Pancreatic cancer is one of the most aggressive forms of cancer. It’ll be a hard fight. You said your mother died from it?”
And then the conversation dissolved into “we can continue the chemo but there isn’t much point in torturing your body. It will be a more peaceful end without it…plan on six months.”
My mother died when she was thirty. I’d turn thirty-one in June.
I took another sip then headed to bed. Even though my gran was gone, I still couldn’t bring myself to sleep in her room. The master bedroom was much larger than the small spare room with its twin bed, but each time I looked into Gran’s room, her crocheted coverlet on the bed, her perfume bottles sitting on a dresser filled with her clothes, I didn’t have the heart to touch it. I’d leave it like that to remember her. And when I was gone, her friends could sort her things more easily.
Flopping down on the stiff twin bed, I closed my eyes. With a little luck, the medicine would bring me some relief, and I could sleep through the worst of it. As I drifted off, my mind turned to Kate, her laugh, her smile. I’d never really loved a woman my whole life. Now, I finally met someone who made me feel in ways I’d never felt before. But I would be thirty-one next month. Fate had a wicked sense of humor.
I woke up around dinner time, my stomach aching with hunger. The vomiting had cleaned me out, and I’d slept through lunch. I was famished.
When I pushed off my blankets, I discovered it was freezing in the house. I grabbed my sweatshirt then went into the kitchen where I made myself some toast and a cup of tea. From outside, I heard kids laughing. Standing at the sink, I looked out the window above to see three boys in cut-off jean shorts burning down the street on their bikes, fishing poles tucked under their arms like javelins. They were headed toward the path that ran along Frog Creek which emptied out into the lake. I grinned and spooned sugar into my tea. I gazed up at the horizon. It looked like it might rain, but there was still time to get a quick painting done. I’d sworn I would paint every sunrise and sunset, reminding myself to relish each day I had left. Besides, I wanted to catch Kate on her evening walk. Maybe I could find her another piece of beach glass.
I ate my meager meal quickly. While I still felt hungry, I decided not to push my stomach. I headed out with a watercolor pad and simple paint and brush kit stashed in my bag. This would be sunset forty-four. How many more sunsets would I be able to capture before…? I’d given up the hope that I could beat the cancer. It had already spread from my pancreas into my lymph nodes. I was a doomed man. The sunsets and sunrises reminded me that every day was a gift. I just had to remember to cherish what was right in front of me.
Taking the path through the woods, I got to the beach just as the sun was setting. The boys, no doubt up to no good, had ditched their bikes at the end of the path in search of bigger adventures. I smiled, remembering myself in them. I headed down the pebble-lined beach, past Kate’s house—no lights were on—to a spot out of the wind just down a ways from her boardwalk.
I pulled out my watercolor pad, paint, and brushes, wetting the paint with some lake water, then got to work. The sky in the distance was dark. Somewhere over Canada, it must have been raining. I pulled out my phone and checked the weather. Sure enough, there were evening storms in the forecast. I’d have to work fast. But more than that, I was disappointed. If it rained, I’d have to wait until tomorrow night to see Kate. Or would I?
Sketching first with my pencil, I drew Kate walking along the beach. I dipped my brush into the yellow, mellowing it with white, and painted her hair. With careful strokes, I recreated her straw-colored tresses. Nagging nausea threatened, but I ignored it, fighting back the waves. I’d forgotten to take another dose of medicine before I left. No doubt I’d pay for it before the night ended. I turned back to the painting. Moving my brush slowly and carefully, I painted the luscious curves of her body, her white T-shirt and tan slacks, working to get her arms and feet just the right shade. I was working so intently on the painting that I was surprised when I heard the first crack of lightning in the distance followed by rolling thunder.
Frowning, I gazed at the horizon. Again, I was wracked by nausea. This time I had to fight back bile as I bent over in terrible pain. Between the weather and my body, I was done for the night. I packed up my supplies, stuffed the painting into a large Ziploc bag, and turned to head back up the beach. When I walked past Kate’s house, I saw the lights were still off. I debated, deciding it was probably pushing it too much to show up at her doorstep. I headed down the beach. A few minutes later, rain began to fall.
“Great,” I muttered, pulling up my hood. Of course I hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella.
I was almost to the forest path when the nausea grabbed me again. This time, however, it was accompanied by a sharp pain that took my breath away. I bent over, tried to breathe deeply, blowing out the pain just like I’d taught the children to do at Dolphin Key Sanctuary. After a moment, the pain resided, and I hurried toward the woods. I had no business out in the rain and no idea what the hell was hurting like that. I needed to get back. I needed to phone the on-call doctor.
I passed the bikes and headed down the small path that would eventually empty out on Juniper Lane. Under the shelter of the trees, the rain let up a bit but the thunder rolled and lightning cracked over the lake. The scents of pine and earth perfumed the air. I tried to breathe in deeply, to calm myself, but a moment later, a terrible pain stabbed my side, stopping me mid-step. Gasping, I leaned against a tree. I knew what would come next. I set down my pack, not wanting to puke all over it, then stepped away and began retching. Tea and toast hurled out of my stomach as a strange pain pierced my side. I gasped loudly as nausea hit me then with a terrible force, making me wretch so hard I fell to my knees. The pink pine needles cushioned my hands as I vomited, my stomach contracting over and over again. The lightning cracked and this time, I felt like it had struck me in the side. Black spots appeared before my eyes, and I crashed onto the ground.