Tygave him a slow nod. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Ihated to say I was relieved, but damn, I was. The sooner everyone left, thesooner I could feel comfortable wearing the pain I felt.
Iwalked them to their rental car, careful to stand straight, to breathe evenlyand to appear casual. “I’ll see you guys in a few weeks,” I said, forcing anexcited smile.
“Oh,yeah, you will.” Sebastian winked before pulling me into a hug. He planted abig, wet kiss against mycheekand I pushed him awayto swipe a hand against my face. “Take care of yourself, baby. You look likeshit.”
“Ikindafeellike shit,” I admitted with a strained chuckle, briefly giving up the actbefore I quickly backpedaled. “But I’m fine, seriously. Maybe should’ve thoughtharder about that barbeque, but I’m good.”
“Ifigured.” Ty nodded with a knowing, sympathetic smirk. “Take it easy, bud. Weneed you in good shape in a couple of weeks.”
Iinsisted they both give me a call the next morning when their respectiveflights landed in Ohio and New York. Then, I waved them off as their rental carbacked out of Mama’s long driveway. Sebastian honked the horn and blew me akiss as he pulled the car out of reverse, and I flashed him two middle fingersbefore they drove away down the quiet street.
Thecar disappeared into the distance, and I succumbed to the pain stabbing andsearing through my stomach. I hurried back toward the house with another slewof wishes racing through my mind.
Iwished Ali was still here. I wished she cared enough.
Iwished I wasn’t alone tonight, trapped with nothing but my own thoughts totorment me. Thoughts about my life, my relationship, and my health. About theunrelenting clock that kept ticking in my ear.
2
Havea Hot Girlfriend
CHAD
“HEY,BABY,”Mama said groggily as I entered the living room from the stairs. I had comedown for some water, to find her sleeping on the musty old couch, the TV stillon and credits rolling. “How are youfeelin’?”
“Okay,”I fibbed, heading into the kitchen and listening as she came in behind me whileI pulled the fridge open and reached for a bottle of water. “Probably shouldn’thave had that barbeque, though,” I added for good measure. To keep her fromwondering, to stop her from glaring curiously, worriedly.
“It’swhat you asked for,” she reminded me gently.
Ipulled out a bottle and shut the fridge. “Oh, I know. I’m notcomplainin’ or anything. Justsayin’.”
“Mm,”she hummed thoughtfully, crossing her arms. “You sure you’re okay?”
Ithought about lying, the way I usually did. I thought about shrugging andflashing a half-smile.Same shit,different day. Ha-ha. But for once, I was tired of hiding and feelingashamed of it. For once, I wondered if being honest mightactuallymakeme feel better. Maybe it would lighten the load.
So,I turned to her and slowly nodded. “It’s happening more often, I think.”
Shenodded knowingly. Of course, she knew. We lived in the same house, for cryingout loud. “How bad?”
Thenature of my problem—self-diagnosed irritable bowel syndrome—left me withlittle desire to talk about it. Because who really wants to talk about that?Nobody, that’s who.
There’snothing glamorous about it and there’s no way to pretty it up. No way whatsoeverto make it attractive with ribbons or rhinestones to be donated to a charitablecause. We are bred to feel embarrassed of anything remotely connected to thenatural functions of our bodies, and when you have a problem with one of them?Forget it.
Butthat didn’t stop the fact that that’s exactly what was wrong with me.
“I’mnot dead, so I guess that’s something, right?” I chuckled sardonically andpulled a grin. But when I turned to Mama, I found she wasn’t smiling with me.
“You’renot funny, Chad.”
Relenting,I sighed and scrubbed the back of my head, feeling the short hairs bristlingagainst my palm. “I mean, it’s notgreat.I am in pain a lot of the time, and when I’m not in a lot of pain, I’mexhausted frombeingin pain.But, it’s still manageable, and I’m notbleedin’.”
Mamaknew blood scared me the most. Thanks to too many nights spent with Dr. Google,I knew that the sight of blood likely indicated that things were worse off thanI’d thought. In my mind, if there was no blood, everything was still fine.Everything was as normal as my normal got, and I could deal with that.
“Youshould see someone, Chad. It might benothin’, butyou don’tknow.” Her voice was small and a little scared, so I did whatI always do. I shrugged nonchalantly and turned to her, smiling reassuringly asI replied, “Don’t worry about me, Mama. Seriously. IfI’mnot worried,you shouldn’t be either.”
Thistime, she wasn’t biting. “You’re my baby. Of course, I’mgonnaworry.”
