Page 59 of Toxic Hope
“Our dad doesn’t really care what we do as long as it doesn’t tarnish his image,” Preston explains.
“And our mother can’t stay sober long enough to care,” Easton adds.
“That really sucks,” I offer, not really sure what else to say. I always imagined them having the perfect life; at least it looked like that from the outside. I guess I was wrong to assume.
“Visiting your house is a nice change from ours. Your grandma really loves you, and she would do anything to make you happy. It’s nice to be in such a homey environment,” Preston confesses, making me feel even more guilty.
“I don’t remember the last time we all sat and ate dinner together… Christmas, I think,” Easton says, his gaze going unfocused, as if he is recalling a memory.
“Well, you can come to dinner at my house anytime,” I invite them.
“Be careful, pearls.” Preston warns playfully. “We’ll be at your place every night if you let us.”
The thought of having them with me every day is oddly comforting.
Oh, how everything has changed.
A few weeks ago, I could not stand to be around them and now I’m looking forward to spending time with them constantly. It’s scary and exciting but, most of all, I feel happy about the future. A future with them, if you can believe it. I hardly can.
For a long time, my future involved nothing but treatments and making it through school. Now I actually have something to look forward to. And unbelievably, that something is Easton and Preston.
We spend the rest of my session talking about school and what we want to do when we finish. The twins are not sure what they want to do, but they know they don’t want to work for anyone but themselves. I also can’t imagine them taking orders from some boss.
“I want to be a teacher,” I confess. “Elementary school age would be preferred. I like working with little kids.” When I was thirteen, I used to babysit my neighbor’s five-year-old, and I had the best time doing so.
“I think you would be a great teacher,” Preston encourages me. “I can see a bunch of googly-eyed first graders following you like lost puppies.”
The thought makes me smile, because I can see that too. I can also see the twins picking me up from work, asking me how my day went. We would go home together and eat dinner with Grandma. Excitement about the future and a sense of peace settling over me.
I’m still filled with joy about my fantasy of the future when the nurse comes to my seat and starts to unhook my port. “That’s it for the day, Emma. How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I offer with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t forget the doctor wanted to see you after treatment today,” the nurse reminds me while she pulls my sleeve back over my port.
“Oh yes, that’s right. I almost forgot.” I look back and forth between the twins. “Do you mind waiting for me here?”
“Not at all,” Preston says first.
“Take your time. We’ll be here to take you home after,” Easton promises.
I nod before I kick the blanket off and climb out of my chair. Preston takes my hand and helps me to my feet.
“I’ll be right back,” I say before I make my way to Dr. Pearson’s office, which is just down the hall. I knock on the door, and he calls for me to come in.
“Hello, Emma,” he greets me with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Please, have a seat.” He points at the chair in front of his desk.
“What is this about?” I ask when he doesn’t immediately say something.
“Emma, I’m going to get straight to the point. I’ve got your recent test results back, and they are not what we hoped.”
My stomach sinks, and my chest tightens.No, this can’t be true. “What do you mean? Last time we talked…” I try to recall all the things he said. The word hopeful comes to mind. Did I misunderstand him before? Did I hear only what I wanted to hear?
“You initially reacted well to the treatment, but sometimes that can change and unfortunately it has for you.” His words hit me like a ton of bricks.
I feel like there is a weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to say or think right now. All I know is that for the first time since my diagnosis, I am very scared of death.
A few moments of silence pass between us, a million thoughts running through my mind during that brief time. My future, the future I was dreaming of less than an hour ago, is ripped from me violently.
