Page 57 of Laugh

“Fuck,” I mutter, my heart cracks at the despair in her voice. “Haddie, my God, you’re not pathetic! You’re clearly exhausted and overwhelmed. Just…” I trail off, looking around, eventually seeing a bench outside the front door and walk us over there. “Take all the time you need and when you’re ready, tell me what’s going on.”

I sit with her straddling my lap and with the new angle, she buries her face into my neck. Her tears are dampening my skin, and all I can think to do is hold her and run my hand over her half falling out messy bun hanging low at the back of her head. Time passes as she breaks down in my arms while I continue to rock her slowly from side to side. I whisper encouraging words and promises in her ear until finally she releases a long, shuddering breath.

My hands stay on her waist as she pulls back from me and forces out a trembling smile. “Thank you for letting me have my moment. I think I really needed to get that all out. I’m, umm…. I’m very overwhelmed right now.”

Brushing the tear-soaked strands away from her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks, I lean forward and kiss her nose. “Tell me how I can underwhelm you then. Let’s get you back to a comfortable, only slightly stressed mindset.”

I feel the tightness release in my chest when she giggles and covers her mouth, then drops her hands into her lap and bites back a real smile this time. “You underwhelm me every day, and I appreciate that about you,” she teases.

Reaching around, I smack her on the ass lightly and mock glare at her. “I’ll make you eat those words. Now that you’re back to your sassy self, tell me what’s going on. How is Marcus?”

Her laughter cuts off abruptly and her face falls. Picking at my shirt, she explains what happened. “Marcus called me yesterday afternoon and told me he needed my help to get to the emergency room. I’ll explain why he called me instead of his parents in just a minute, and also, I’m really,reallysorry I didn’t call you yesterday. My mind was so focused on what I needed to do that I–”

I cover her mouth and shake my head fiercely. “Don’t apologize. Never apologize for doing what you have to do. We’ll try again when Marcus gets sorted out. So, keep talking about the problem at hand so I can fix it,” I tease, winking at her.

The smile that spreads across her lips is soft and filled with an emotion I really don’t think I should put a name to at this moment.

“So, we got to the hospital and pretty quickly found out what the issue was. He, uh, he has this really big tumor on his leg.” She shows me the size with her hands and I close my eyes because it’s fucking huge. “He’s going in for surgery to remove it sometime this morning so they can perform a biopsy. They couldn’t do it last night because his blood count was really low, so he needed to get a blood transfusion before they could operate.”

“Do they have any idea what’s caused this?” I ask.

Haddie shakes her head sadly. “Not really. Well, kind of. They said that the most likely cause is between two things. Either it’s some sort of bowel infection that can cause these types of tumors to pop up anywhere on the body, or cancer.”

My eyes widen when she says the second one. “What are they…” I trail off, not sure what to ask.

“They’re leaning toward the bowel thing because of his age and stuff. But that’s why they’re doing the surgery so quickly, so they can find out and come up with a treatment plan depending on the results. His parents were out of town yesterday, but hurried back when I was able to reach them right after we got there. They showed up around three this morning and are with him now.”

Straightening my shoulders, I work through everything she’s said. “Okay, so Marcus is doing alright at the moment?”

“Yeah. Once he got the blood, his color started to come back, and he perked up pretty decently. He’s tired, but it seems like he’s in good spirits. They’ve admitted him and he’ll stay there until the biopsy results come in, which they think will be either Monday or Tuesday.”

I’m not sure if it’s the way that I’m asking questions in a clinical manner, but I think being able to detach for a moment and only talk about the facts is helping her refocus on what needs to be done.

“Good, I’m really glad that he’s doing better. Before we get to what you needed help with, how areyoudoing?”

I chuckle when she groans and falls forward, dropping head onto my shoulder, mumbling, “I’m fucking exhausted. Sad and scared and a little angry…” Her voice trails off, and she’s silent as she breathes against me deeply.

“Baby,” I murmur against her head. “Did you just fall asleep on me?”

“I wish,” her muffled voice answers.

Grinning, I ask, “Why are you a little angry?”

Turning her head so she can still lay her head where it’s at on my shoulder, she looks up at me. “I might be more than a little angry, and I’m really fucking ashamed of that.”

Furrowing my brows, I ask, “Why?”

Blowing out a breath, she sits back up. “The tumor on his leg? It’s been there for over four years, Beau.Four years!Why the hell didn’t he go to the doctor when it first showed up? Or even six freaking months ago?”

I don’t have an answer for her because it’s a good fucking question, and I find myself growing frustrated with him as well. “I don’t know, happy girl. But what’s done is done. He didn’t before, but he’s therenow.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” she grumbles, picking at my shirt again. “I need to tell you something else, the reason I told you I needed your help. But, well… here’s the thing. It’s something that’s going to be awful and incredibly embarrassing for Marcus. I only just found out about it, and he begged me to not let his parents find out. So, I’ve got liketwo daysto fix it for him.”

I can’t think of anything that she could possibly be talking about. Confused, I ask slowly, “Okaaay? What is it?”

Closing her eyes briefly before opening them and staring at me with all the seriousness she can muster, she breathes deeply, readying herself. She’s geared up to share whatever Marcus’s huge secret is. “His apartment is a disaster. Like, I think we may be looking at something that’s comparable to borderline hoarding. But I need you to know, this isn’t the Marcus thatIknow. I’ve been to his apartment a million times, and it’s been messy before, but it’s been nowhere near something like this. I haven’t been here for about six weeks; I did the math. So, what happened in there must have been because he’s been sicker than he was letting on.”

Okay, so we need to get some cleaning done. I can handle that.

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