Page 11 of The Forever Gift

‘Have you spoken to your parents?’ Gavin asks.

I shake my head.

‘Mine? You probably talk to them more than I do,’ Gavin says.

‘Yourparents?’ My eyes round like saucers. ‘God no,’ I snort, laughing painfully but it’s not funny.

‘Yeah, okay, sorry,’ Gavin says, fidgeting, and I know he wants to reach for his supernova coffee again.

‘Christ, don’t you remember how your mam and dad reacted when you told them Kayla was going to be born?’ I say. ‘Imagine how much they’ll freak out when we tell them she might die. No doubt they’ll find some way to blame us.’

Gavin freezes and makes the same face he does any time I dare to veer towards our teenage years.

‘Sorry,’ I say.

But Gavin still isn’t moving.

‘I’m sorry,’ I repeat, feeling guilty. ‘That was a low blow. But, you brought your parents into this, and I still think they don’t approve of me…’

‘Dying?’ Gavin says.

‘No. No. No.’ I shake my head. ‘Did I say that? I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just scared. Scared and talking crap. Don’t mind me. You know I ramble on like a tit when I’m nervous.’

I watch as silent tears trickle down Gavin’s face.

Gavin. Gavin Doran. The hot boy from my year in school. Liked by everyone. Even parents. My boyfriend for a while. And now happily married.Not. To. Me.

This isn’t the first time my words have brought tears to Gavin’s eyes in this café. The last time was when we were seventeen, a pair of kids about to sit our Leaving Cert and I told him I was pregnant. He crumbled and told me his parents would kill him.

Gavin’s parents did make our lives hell. I still blame them for splitting us up. They said we were making a huge mistake and a baby would ruin our lives. I sometimes wonder at what point over the years Mr and Mrs Doran realised they were wrong. Kayla is the best thing to ever happen to Gavin and me, and we all know it. I may never have been good enough for Gavin’s parents, but they truly adore Kayla.

‘There’s hope. The doctors have hope,’ I say, my voice cracking. ‘They’re saying lots of positive stuff, aren’t they? There’s all sorts of treatments. They said something about…’ I pause and suddenly the small coffee shop grows to enormity. ‘Something about…’

God, I have no idea what they said. I just became so consumed by fear that anything the doctor said after hearing the wordsKaylaandcancerin the same sentence went completely over my head. And as I watch Gavin now I realise it wouldn’t matter if I could remember or not, because my words are washing over him in exactly the same way now.

How are we here?How are we here again?Gavin and I, in such an unimaginable situation. When I told Gavin I was pregnant I looked into his eyes and I thought I broke him. But I was wrong. So wrong. Because the look on his face then was nothing compared to the way he looks at me now. Telling Gavin that Kayla was going to come into our lives didn’t break him. But telling Gavin that Kayla might leave our lives has. Itreallyhas.

‘Surgery,’ Gavin says at last. ‘That’s first.’

He picks up his coffee cup, raises it to his lips but doesn’t sip before setting it down.

Surgery, I think.Maybe?Did someone say that? I’m not sure. There were so many things said in the hospital. Terms I didn’t understand. Lots of big words. And I asked questions.Didn’t I?Surely, I askedsomething.Or maybe I just sat there. Useless and barely able to move – a lot like right now.

I rewind my mind to the last time I was thinking straight: on the train this morning. I wrote questions – everything that popped into my head. I got a cramp in my arm because I could barely move the pen fast enough to keep up with my racing mind. But did I write the answers in the meeting? I think I did.No. No!Maybe I didn’t.I want to check my bag. I want to check my bag now. Maybe there’s questions. Maybe there’s answers. I don’t have any bloody clue what’s in there.

I lean over and rummage in my Michael Kors bag. It’s a silly, oversized tote but it’s real and all. I bought it a couple of years ago on a girls’ holiday in New York with my friends from work. I’m not sure which I enjoyed more, shopping for me, or shopping for Kayla. Although Kayla’s list was extensive and had to be paired down to a mere fifty million jumpers and thirty billion bath bombs, I loved every minute of the crazy dash around the city in a race against consumer time. Kayla stayed with Gavin that week. And I was the best parent in the whole world when I came home.

‘Heather,’ Gavin says as I rummage in my bag, half-panicked and half-smiling as I think of Kayla’s smile as she tried on all her new designer clothes.

‘Heather. Heather.Heather,’ Gavin says, louder.

‘Yeah.’ I shoot up, empty-handed.

‘Are we going to lose her?’ Gavin says, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Absolutely not.’

FIVE

---