Page 97 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

She ended up right back on his doorstep two hours later.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elliott

“Evening, everyone. Welcome to our support group. Looks like we have a few new faces here tonight, so why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves?”

Elliott sat stiff as a board in the uncomfortable folding chair, scraping at her thumbnail. Averting her gaze, she hoped someone else would start them off. She didn’t know what to say about herself. Just her name? How old she was? Her job?

This was a cancer survivor support group ... Should she tell everyone what cancer she had and how long she’d been cancer-free? Or would they avoid the subject completely and pretend they were just regular people getting to know each other?

The woman sitting to her left raised her hand with a joyful chuckle. “I’m not new, so I’ll go first. I’m Keri and I’m a six-year survivor of breast cancer.”

Elliott peeked over at Keri while she spoke. She had short black hair and looked to be in her midthirties. Massive gold hoops dangled from her ears, swinging as she spoke animatedly. “I’m from Miami but have been here in Omaha for the last three years. Husband’s job moved mefrom the beach to this flyover state, but I gotta say, it’s grown on me. Except in the winter.”

A chorus of laughs went around the room. Elliott smiled.

“I’m a physical therapist and mom to two little boys. And I’ve been coming to this group for ... What is it, Joe?” She peered at the man who had greeted everyone and introduced himself as the group organizer. “Year and a half?”

“Sounds about right,” Joe said. “Who’s next?”

Might as well get it over with.

“I’ll go. I’m Elliott and I’m from Lincoln. I just moved to Omaha a few months ago. I’m a graphic designer for small businesses. I was first diagnosed with leukemia when I was seventeen, and after a stem cell transplant last year, I’ve been cancer-free for almost a year and a half.”

“Welcome,” Joe said with a smile.

The remaining twelve attendees introduced themselves, and Joe took the floor again. Elliott mostly listened during the remainder of the meeting, thankful the rest of the questions to the group were sort of a free-for-all and answer-if-you-feel-comfortable type. She wanted to get a feel for how things went before she put herself out there, but she had to admit it was nice to hear others speak aloud some of the things she’d dealt with in the last year.

When the meeting was over, Keri approached her.

“Nice to see another young woman,” she said with an awkward laugh. “I was beginning to think I was the only one my age around here who’d had cancer.”

Elliott grinned. The rest of the group had primarily been older women and men, with one younger man in his twenties. He’d disappeared as soon as the meeting was over.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “My, um ... boyfriend found this group for me. I’ve struggled a little with anxiety since the transplant but never looked into a support group like my doctor suggested. I think it took another voice suggesting it to get me moving.”

“I get that. We go through so much during treatment, seems like we should be able to handle the aftermath no problem, doesn’t it?”

Elliott nodded. “Exactly. It doesn’t feel right that I can go through everything a stem cell transplant entails, but I can barely sleep in an apartment by myself.”

Keri’s dark eyes softened with compassion. “I know exactly what you mean.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a vibrating phone. “I’m so sorry, but it’s my husband. He’s got the kids ...” She scrunched her nose and her eyes went wide.

Elliott laughed.

Keri reached in her purse again and pulled out a business card. “I’d love to chat some more. Have another friend in the city who’s been where I have. Text me sometime if you want to meet up.”

“That sounds great. Thank you.”

Keri smiled and waved as she turned and answered the call. Elliott slid the card into her back pocket and left shortly thereafter.

She drove back to the apartment complex feeling lighter, something she hadn’t even known she needed. She’d been so happy with Jamie these last few weeks, but having someone else to talk to who’d been through cancer treatment was a huge relief.

“You can talk to me about anything,” Jamie had said when he told her about the group. “But there are some things I’ll probably never understand. Here’s the information if you ever want to give it a try.”

So she had, and she was glad she did.

The next month was one of the best of Elliott’s life. She and Jamie fell into a routine, rotating whose apartment they stayed at (Hank was welcome at both) and having takeout from the Indian food place at least once a week.

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