Page 71 of Look on the Bright Side

“Ow,” he said.

Their eyes met.

She swallowed. “We need to call your doctor, honey.”

And just like that, their world disintegrated. Tonight’s plans, off. Work tomorrow, no. Driving down to New York City to see Jordyn Rae this weekend? Not gonna happen. They stared at each other, abruptly adrift in a dark ocean of fear.

“It’s probably just a virus,” he said, then cleared his throat.

“Right. You’ve…you’ve had viruses before. We’ll just be extra neurotic, okay?”

He nodded. “Actually, I feel better now. Better than earlier.”

“Good! Great! I’ll make something really nutritious for dinner. You stay put, honey. Did you take any Motrin? Actually, how about some Tylenol?” Because Motrin wasn’t good if you had low platelets. She got two tablets of Tylenol, a glass of water and the electronic thermometer. “One hundred point two,” she said. “Hardly anything. Want to watch TV while I cook?”

“Sure!” Justin said, and his voice was overly cheerful.

“Call Dr.Kothari, okay?”

“I will.”

They knew, though. As she chopped carrots and onions and garlic and ginger, added cilantro, sliced chicken, threw in some turmeric, she was aware that she was shaking. Her phone chimed with a text. Addie.

Everything okay?

That twin radar. She didn’t want to answer, but that would make things worse. Yes! Staying at J’s tonight. Love you.

They’d have to call his parents. Get in to see the doctor tomorrow. Spinal tap. Bone marrow biopsy. Lymph node biopsy. T-cell therapy. Stem cell therapy. Chemo. Bone marrow transplant. Radiation.

She stirred the soup, put in some brown rice and turned the heat down to a simmer, then went to the couch and cuddled up next to Justin. “You look incredibly handsome today. That bedhead looks good on you.”

He smiled, but not really. She understood. She turned his face to hers and kissed him. “I love you. I love you so much, Justin.” Their whole history flickered through her heart. Kindergarten, birthday parties, movies, dinners, the first time they held hands, the Copley Square Hotel, Venice, yesterday when he’d gotten up early to make her scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese on English muffins, her favorite.

“I love you, too, little bird,” he said, stroking her cheek. Then he smiled for real this time, and kissed her back.

“Whatever happens,” she said, “we’re in it together.”

“Exactly. But I bet it’s just the flu,” he said. “Which I just gave you. Sorry.”

“I’ll take it.” She’d happily take a flu, or Ebola, or give up a leg if it meant Justin had not relapsed.

Tonight, they’d be two people in love. One had a little virus. They’d eat chicken soup and watch something gripping on TV. They’d hold hands. They might even make love. She wouldn’t cry, because this might be the last day she would be able to stop herself from crying.

Tomorrow, she knew, their lives would be very, very different. But tonight…they had tonight.

•••

It was the worst possible news. Three days later, they sat in Dr.Kothari’s office at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute—Heather and Theo, Justin and Lark—all of them white-faced as the doctor gave them the test results.

The leukemia had returned to his bone marrow and central nervous system. It would require immediate and aggressive chemo injected directly into his spinal canal and into a tiny catheter they’d place in his brain. Oral meds. Radiation therapy. And the most terrifying words of all…experimental treatment.

“I’m sorry it’s not better news,” Dr.Kothari said, “but I want you to know what we’re up against.” We. That was nice, Lark thought numbly. “When you’ve had ALL as a kid—and you had central nervous system involvement then, right?”

“Right,” his mother said.

“Well, I’m afraid this recurrence means your prognosis is a rough one.” He let that sit a minute, then said, “The median survival rate is six months.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Heather vomited right onto the rug, and Theo burst into tears.

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