I run my hand over my head, nodding, digesting this. I’m pleasantly surprised to feel the beginnings of soft, downy hair. I smile. I climb out of the car. I’m ready to go in. And then he climbs out of the car and calls my name, and I can tell Grant is practically bursting to tell me. He says it.
“I told Hannah.”
“You told Hannah?” I turn back, face him full-on. “You told Hannah what?”
“That you wouldn’t have your last treatment. That basically, if you didn’t, you’d probably die.”
Grant waits for me to speak. My hands are in the pockets of my loosest jeans, which go on a little bit easier now that I’m notpumped full of “make you want to eat everything, even if it tastes like metal” steroids. If I keep going like this, I might be back in my old clothes in a month or two. I might feel a bit more normal. Not yet, though.
“I can’t tell if you’re gonna throw your cellphone at my head or thank me,” he says.
“You asked Hannah to call me?”
“I didn’t ask her. Ibeggedher,” Grant says simply.
“Why her?”
“I just…knew she could do it.”
“How? You never met her. You’d never even spoken to her.”
“I did,” Grant defends. “I shouted hello at her on New Year’s.”
I smile, and then the smile fades as I realize I’m pissed off.
“But how did you know she would help?”
“I didn’t. I had to hope. I had nothing left. I needed you to live. And Hannah…after the way you spoke about her. The way I knew you felt about her. She’s nice, man, she was so nice. And…” he trails off. Starts up again. “What happened on that call?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Real mature, man. Do you still love her?”
“I never said I loved her.” I’m quick on that reply.
Grant stills as the heat swirls around us. I’m being engulfed.
“You don’t, then?”
“Leave it,” I say. “She’s with someone else.”
“Maybe she’s not, after all this time.”
“Either way. I messed with her head. I messed with my own head. It’s not fair to chase after her again.”
“Yeah, man, she’s nice—really liked you, went to look at apartments for you. She clearly wasn’t into you at all. You should definitely never pursue that line again.”
And then there’s the rest. We watched films together, we slept next to each other. I didn’t imagine those things. In my darkest hours, after vomiting into the hospital’s disposable bowls, Ithought of those nights. Hannah in her pajamas, hair piled up on top of her head, sleeping so soundly as I watched her, as I carried my phone around, muting myself so as not to disturb her, as I made dinner, as I worked into the night, as I slowly started packing things up to move. Hannah accidentally falling asleep…it was strangely addictive viewing. I could watch her sleep again. Why have I gone down memory lane? Now it just hurts.
Grant coughs. I kind of forgot he was there. “You should call her,” he says.
“I should be angry with you for sticking your nose in my business” is my childish reply.
“You do that,” Grant says. “Meanwhile, between Hannah and me, we got you back into chemo. We saved your life. At the very least, you owe us both a thank-you.”
“I’ll thank you now, from the bottom of my heart.” I mean it, but I know my voice doesn’t sound like I mean it.
“And Hannah?”
