Something Unexpected by Vi Keeland
CHAPTER 25
Beck
“HOW MANY HOURShas it been now?”
Gram patted my hand. “Let’s not keep track. The doctor said it can take up to a full day for some people to wake up after they stop the medication.”
I looked over at Nora. She hadn’t stirred since they removed the breathing tube and turned off the sedation meds. That had been around eight this morning, and it was already dark outside. Gram was trying to be positive, but I could see the concern in her eyes as the hours dragged on, too. She also hadn’t eaten anything since she’d come back around ten.
“You need to eat something,” I said.
“I don’t have an appetite.”
Neither did I, but if I was going to force Gram to take care of herself, I had to do the same. “How about some soup? I saw a Panera a few blocks down.”
Gram nodded. “Okay.”
“Chicken noodle?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
What should’ve been a fifteen-minute errand wound up taking nearly an hour because the hospital’s garage meter wasn’t working, and a line of cars had formed behind the wooden blockade that only went up once a ticket was paid. Then the inside of the Panera was closed due to renovations, and I had to wait on a long drive-thru line. To top it off, when I got back to the hospital, there was no parking anywhere since they’d closed the garage due to the broken meter.
I was still grumbling about it all when I walked back into Nora’s room, but my bitching came to a halt when I saw a set of beautiful green eyes.
“You’re awake.”
Gram smiled. “She woke up a few minutes after you left.”
Nora’s voice was groggy. “Why are you here?”
I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Because you are.”
She sighed. “Beck…”
Gram looked between us and stood. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
I set the bag of soup down and took the seat next to Nora. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
I smirked. “Well, you shouldn’t be. You slept for three damn days.”
“I guess I don’t have to worry about you treating me differently just because I’m sick…”
I winked. “Never.”
Nora studied me a moment. “How much do you know?”
“Enough that I can now spell rhabdomyosarcoma after typing it into Google so many times.” I wiped a lock of hair from her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first it was because I wanted to feel normal, to have a one-night stand who looked at me like a woman, and not a sick woman.”
“And then later? Once we became more than a one-night stand?”
She swallowed. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought we’d end before you figured it out. You were supposed to get tired of me, like you did all the others since your divorce.”
I frowned. “But you aren’t like anyone else, so your plan was flawed from the start.”
Tears welled in Nora’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I shouldn’t have gotten involved. Then it would’ve been easier when…” She looked away.
I swallowed. “Nora?”
Her eyes came back to mine. I cupped her cheeks in my hands to make sure she heard me loud and clear. “I would rather fall for you and get hurt than to never have gotten involved.”
The tears she’d been fighting streamed down her face. I wiped them with my thumbs and moved closer, so we were almost nose to nose.
“And just so we’re clear,” I said, “I have fallen for you.”
More tears rolled down her cheeks, but rather than waste time clearing them, I worked on changing her mood. I pressed my lips to hers until I felt the tension leave her body.
When I pulled back, she smiled. “You said I was out for three days, which means I haven’t brushed my teeth in that long.”
“I give zero fucks, sweetheart. Don’t brush your teeth. Don’t shave. Don’t shower. I’m still going to want you.” I took her hand, sliding it off the bed and guiding it to cup my growing hard-on. Nora’s eyes widened. But that sparkle she always had was back. “No fucks, baby.”
“Your grandmother could walk in any second.”
“My grandmother won’t be back for a while. She didn’t have to use the bathroom. I know her. She’s giving us time alone.” I wiggled my brows. “I could climb under those covers with you for a quickie.”
“Don’t you dare,” she said, smiling.
Father Kelly had said maybe my purpose was to provide Nora comfort, but I knew in that moment that it wasn’t. My job was to make her face look like it did right now until the end, no matter when that time came.
Unfortunately, we were interrupted by a nurse who wanted to take her vitals. Then Gram came back, and a few minutes later, the cardiologist joined us.
“Welcome back.” He smiled and extended a hand to Nora. “I’m Dr. Wallace. I’ve been visiting you a few times a day, but you weren’t a very good host. Didn’t say much.”
Nora smiled. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Wallace.”
He did a quick exam and typed into his iPad. “Your vitals are strong. Looking at the numbers, I wouldn’t guess you were someone who suffered a massive heart attack just a few days ago. Then again, most people with that type of cardiac incident have thirty years on you.”
Nora sat up in bed. “When can I leave?”
“Boy. I just met you, and you already can’t wait to get away.” He smiled. “I’d like to keep you for observation at least for another day or two. We’ll get you up and walking in the next twelve hours, if you’re ready, and then see how fast your strength comes back. While we assess, we can talk about your treatment options.”
“Oh…” Nora shook her head. “I don’t want any treatment.”
Dr. Wallace nodded. “Ms. Aster gave us your advanced directive when you came in, and I spoke to your doctors in New York to get a better sense of your history. But you should know that your heart attack and being hospitalized moves up your status on the transplant list.”
“She’s a candidate for a transplant?” I said.
The doctor looked between Nora and me. “I’m sorry. This is a conversation we should have in private. I only meant to suggest that we should discuss things when you’re feeling up to it.”
Nora forced a smile. “I am feeling kind of tired.”
My gut said she was full of shit and just wanted to end this conversation, but it worked.
Dr. Wallace nodded again. “Of course. I’m going to put in an order for an echocardiogram and an EKG, as well as some new bloodwork. It’ll give us a better idea where we are anyway. I’ll stop back in the morning to see if you’re up for talking.”
After a murmur of thank yous and goodbyes around the room, it was just the three of us again. The silence grew loud. I couldn’t take it.
I threw my hands in the air. “Can someone please explain to me why you quit fighting when there are still options left? Because I’m apparently the only one in this room who doesn’t belong to the club.”
Gram squinted at me. “Don’t raise your voice. I don’t care if you’re over thirty and I’m dying. I’ll whip your ass.”
I blew out two cheeks full of hot air and shook my head. “I need a minute. I’m going to take a walk.”
***
“Hey.”
My eyes opened to find Nora staring at me. I must’ve nodded off while she was sleeping. I sat up and wiped my cheek.
Nora smiled. “On the other side.”
Shit. I rubbed the other cheek, but the smirk on Nora’s face told me I was wasting my time. “There isn’t any drool, is there?”
“Nope.”
I chuckled. “What time is it?”
Nora’s eyes lifted to the clock on the wall opposite her bed. I’m not sure if I’d even noticed it there before now. “Almost three AM.”
I looked around. The ICU rooms were all glass pods, but Nora’s curtain was partially drawn now. It was the first time I didn’t feel like we were sitting in a fishbowl.
“Much cozier,” I said.
“The nurse told me my boyfriend was handsome and then drew the privacy panels.”
“Oh yeah?” I stretched and stood. “I’ll have to bring her flowers. Move over. You’re hogging the bed.”
Nora smiled and scooched to one side. The shitty hospital bed was probably a single or a twin, so my right shoulder hung off the edge. But it was the best spot I’d sat in for days. I nudged Nora to sit up a little and wrapped my arm around her, nuzzling her to me. “Come here.”
She rested her head on my chest and looked up at me. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered.
“Of course.”
She smiled sadly. “I think I’m going to push up my moving date to California.”
“To when?”
“As soon as I feel up to it.”
A sense of panic washed over me. “Why leave? All your doctors are in New York.”
“I just think it’s best.”
“Best for who? Me or you?”
She looked away. “Me.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but it wasn’t the time to argue. I sighed. “Can I ask you some questions about your health? I mean, I feel like I’m almost qualified to operate on my own after all the reading I’ve done the last few days. But I’d like to understand it from your point of view.”
Nora nodded. “I told you my mother died when I was little. She had cardiac rhabdomyosarcoma. Some people just get one tumor once, but others like us get lots of them, and they come back. Most cases are actually not hereditary, but some people have genetic factors like we do.”
“When were you diagnosed?”
“The day after my prom. I was having a lot of trouble breathing. It sort of felt like someone was sitting on my chest, but I’d been drinking prom night so I didn’t say anything for a few days. I thought it was the world’s worst hangover. A few days later, I was so exhausted, I couldn’t even walk. My dad, William, took me to the ER, and they admitted me. I was diagnosed the next morning. I had chemotherapy and radiation, and I went into remission a few months later. The majority of patients with localized rhabdomyosarcoma can be cured. But mine came back two years later. And the tumor brought friends. That was the first time I had surgery—open-heart at twenty. The tumors had to be resected, cut out. After that, I was good for three years, I think. Then another surgery. And then a year later, it was back again. I’ve had three open-hearts in the last ten years, and three rounds of chemo and radiation.”
“Jesus.”
“The last time it came back was only six months after the last surgery, and the tumors are non-resectable. My surgeons described them as ivy wrapping around a trellis, except the trellis is my heart. They’ve just infiltrated in a way that makes them inoperable.”
“Dr. Wallace mentioned a transplant. Moving up on the list?”
Nora sighed. “I’m type-O blood, which has the longest wait time for a donor. Type AB has an average of less than a month. Type O is well over a year. Even with a higher status on the list, it’s not likely it would ever happen. Plus, the average survival rate in people with my type of damage is only sixteen months after a transplant.”
“You keep saying average, but are there people who live full lives? Who are healthy into their seventies and eighties?”
Nora cupped my cheek. “I’ve come to terms with my fate. I want to enjoy the time I have left. I’m sorry this is going to be hard on you. But I’m not sorry I met you, Beck.”
My voice broke as I looked into her eyes. “Nora, I’m in love with you. I can’t lose you.”
“Oh, Beck. You weren’t supposed to do that.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t stop it. Wasn’t an option. Falling for you was a necessity.”
