medical problems.”
“I doubt it.” The gene mutation she carried also made her susceptible to other forms of cancer, most notably ovarian cancer. Even if this lump turned out to be a harmless cyst, or if it was malignant and she managed to survive the necessary treatment, she would always be at risk. Chemotherapy could make her sterile or her ovaries might have to be removed before she could have children.
What man would be willing to accept such a long list of negatives in his potential mate?
“It’ll work out, you’ll see,” Pam announced brightly. “This lump will turn out to be nothing, and you’ll find someone to support you through whatever else life brings. That’s what’ll happen, mark my words.”
Erica offered a wry smile. “You’ve decided this, have you?”
“You bet.” Pam grinned. “I like to plan my friends’ lives for them.”
“That’s good to know.” Despite Erica’s droll response, Pam’s words warmed her and chased away some of the ice-cold anxiety. No matter the outcome, she sensed Pam wouldn’t bolt if things got ugly. That their acquaintance had begun to turn into a real friendship.
And Erica was finally willing to admit that soldiering on alone was not the best way to handle her situation. She needed all the friends she could get.
Erica and Pam didn’t leave the café until the barista started stacking chairs on top of tables all around them. Erica begged off Pam’s suggestion of continuing on to dinner. She had slept only fitfully for the past few nights. She was exhausted.
Deciding to fix herself something light, Erica bought fresh salad ingredients and a portion of barramundi. She might not feel much like eating, but she needed to keep her strength up.
She was in her kitchen adding spices to the fish when her phone rang. Her hands were covered in chopped coriander and garlic, so Erica decided to let the machine get it.
“Hi, Erica, it’s Corey.” In the subsequent pause Erica’s heart refused to beat. He cleared his throat and added, “Corey Wachawski.”
As if she was always bringing Coreys home and letting them strip her bare for the enjoyment of their friends. Erica’s knees buckled. She dropped the fish into the baking dish and stood motionless, listening to every word in stunned silence.
“Don’t be creeped out that I looked up your number, it’s in the white pages. I had to call because…I’ve been thinking about you, Erica.”
His admission made Erica slump against the kitchen counter with a shocked gasp.
“I know you told me—us—to leave but I can’t help thinking we shouldn’t have, no matter what you or Griff said. I can’t shake the feeling something was really wrong the other night, and I need to know if you’re all right. Are you all right? If you’re there, will you please pick up?”
Erica glanced down at her sticky hands and hesitated. But deep inside she knew it wasn’t fish oil and herbs keeping her from racing to the phone. She simply had no idea what to say to Corey.
I’m sorry I kicked you out the other night, but I didn’t quite know what the post-coital protocol was in a situation like that. Oh and by the way, I only had sex with you and Griff because I might have cancer and the shock of it made me uncharacteristically rash.
“Okay, I guess you’re out.” Disappointment was clear in Corey’s sigh. “Tell you what, I’m going to give you my numbers. I really hope you call me. Because if you don’t I’ll have to call you again to make sure you got this message, and I might start sounding desperate. You wouldn’t want to make me sound desperate, would you, Erica?”
He finished by rattling off his home and mobile numbers, twice. Only then did Erica wash her hands and hurry to the phone. She replayed Corey’s message, trying to understand why he’d bothered to call her at all.
She’d brought them both home, let them have their wicked way with her and then she’d quite abruptly asked them to
“I doubt it.” The gene mutation she carried also made her susceptible to other forms of cancer, most notably ovarian cancer. Even if this lump turned out to be a harmless cyst, or if it was malignant and she managed to survive the necessary treatment, she would always be at risk. Chemotherapy could make her sterile or her ovaries might have to be removed before she could have children.
What man would be willing to accept such a long list of negatives in his potential mate?
“It’ll work out, you’ll see,” Pam announced brightly. “This lump will turn out to be nothing, and you’ll find someone to support you through whatever else life brings. That’s what’ll happen, mark my words.”
Erica offered a wry smile. “You’ve decided this, have you?”
“You bet.” Pam grinned. “I like to plan my friends’ lives for them.”
“That’s good to know.” Despite Erica’s droll response, Pam’s words warmed her and chased away some of the ice-cold anxiety. No matter the outcome, she sensed Pam wouldn’t bolt if things got ugly. That their acquaintance had begun to turn into a real friendship.
And Erica was finally willing to admit that soldiering on alone was not the best way to handle her situation. She needed all the friends she could get.
Erica and Pam didn’t leave the café until the barista started stacking chairs on top of tables all around them. Erica begged off Pam’s suggestion of continuing on to dinner. She had slept only fitfully for the past few nights. She was exhausted.
Deciding to fix herself something light, Erica bought fresh salad ingredients and a portion of barramundi. She might not feel much like eating, but she needed to keep her strength up.
She was in her kitchen adding spices to the fish when her phone rang. Her hands were covered in chopped coriander and garlic, so Erica decided to let the machine get it.
“Hi, Erica, it’s Corey.” In the subsequent pause Erica’s heart refused to beat. He cleared his throat and added, “Corey Wachawski.”
As if she was always bringing Coreys home and letting them strip her bare for the enjoyment of their friends. Erica’s knees buckled. She dropped the fish into the baking dish and stood motionless, listening to every word in stunned silence.
“Don’t be creeped out that I looked up your number, it’s in the white pages. I had to call because…I’ve been thinking about you, Erica.”
His admission made Erica slump against the kitchen counter with a shocked gasp.
“I know you told me—us—to leave but I can’t help thinking we shouldn’t have, no matter what you or Griff said. I can’t shake the feeling something was really wrong the other night, and I need to know if you’re all right. Are you all right? If you’re there, will you please pick up?”
Erica glanced down at her sticky hands and hesitated. But deep inside she knew it wasn’t fish oil and herbs keeping her from racing to the phone. She simply had no idea what to say to Corey.
I’m sorry I kicked you out the other night, but I didn’t quite know what the post-coital protocol was in a situation like that. Oh and by the way, I only had sex with you and Griff because I might have cancer and the shock of it made me uncharacteristically rash.
“Okay, I guess you’re out.” Disappointment was clear in Corey’s sigh. “Tell you what, I’m going to give you my numbers. I really hope you call me. Because if you don’t I’ll have to call you again to make sure you got this message, and I might start sounding desperate. You wouldn’t want to make me sound desperate, would you, Erica?”
He finished by rattling off his home and mobile numbers, twice. Only then did Erica wash her hands and hurry to the phone. She replayed Corey’s message, trying to understand why he’d bothered to call her at all.
She’d brought them both home, let them have their wicked way with her and then she’d quite abruptly asked them to
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