Murphy's Law

Jon spent the next hour sitting and talking with my parents and brother, talking about everything from the Hawk’s current season, my brother’s precious car, and naturally, me. I was busy pacing the hospital floor, looking for his doctor. I just wanted to find the tall, white haired man and beg him to tell me that my baby brother would be fine, and it was just a growing pain after all.

Seeing as it was ten minutes to visiting hours closing, I sighed, giving up hope. It couldn’t be that dire if the doctor hadn’t come back yet, right?

Still, I had a nagging feeling.

Turning back down the antiseptically white, modern hallway I stopped in front of my brother’s door. I couldn’t help but smile at my mother, being fast asleep on one of the chairs, undoubtedly exhausted. My father was speaking quietly on the phone, and Jon, was seated with his elbows on his knees, holding up a hand of cards.

“I’ll see your bet and raise you three,” he said very seriously while sliding three pennies across the fold-out table over my brother’s lap.

My brother, laying his cards down with a flourish, revealed a full house. Jon dramatically breathed hard through his nose. Placing his cards on the counter, he showed his hand, a three-of-a-kind. Caleb, ever the graceful winner laughed maniacally and muttered, “Mine, all mine!” as he collected his “winnings” of 5 pennies. A smile tugged at my lips.

Finally aware of being watched by me standing in the doorway, Jon stood.

“Any news?” he asked, eyebrow furrowed in concern.

I shook my head no.

Caleb grinned widely at me, “So, is this like an elaborate Make-A-Wish thing or something? Meeting with one of my heroes, playing cards with Jonathan Toews?”

I tried to not draw attention to Jon’s face tinging red at being called his “hero”, which was simply too cute. His modesty astounded me consistently.

I stuck my tongue out at Caleb, “Nope, you just got lucky that your sister happened to pull an all-nighter for school and practically ran someone over.”

Jon chuckled, “For one, it was me that ran you over, and secondly, it was me that got lucky.”

My turn to turn beet red. Caleb smirked at me, and I opened my mouth to change the subject.

Luckily, the doctor cleared his throat from the doorway. This was a different doctor, not the same one that had done the preliminary tests on my brother. My heart sank like a stone when I noticed the little badge on his lapel denoting him as an oncologist.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Mancino,” he introduced himself as my father quickly got off the phone and shook his hand, choosing to let my mom continue to sleep. He shook mine and Jonathan’s as well, eyes growing wide like saucers at Jon’s presence, apparently recognizing the star athlete.

Clearing his throat again, he flipped through some papers on the clipboard, and directed his attention at Caleb.

“Caleb, you were warned that your condition could return within 3 to 5 years, correct? And that if it did, it likely would be with a vengeance?”

My brother nodded, lips set in a straight line and eyes steeled.

“I’m very sorry to say, but it appears that the cancer may have returned and is occupying a significant portion of your shoulder and has spread to your lymph system,” he explained gently, putting up some X-rays on the little wall-mounted light box.

And then I saw it, clear as day, right next to his heart. The offending lymph node was in stark contrast to its surroundings.

I collapsed into the chair nearest to me and rested my head in my hands.

My mom, rousing at the bit of commotion, she sleepily blinked, taking in the presence of the doctor and our distraught expressions. She stood and began sobbing, rushing to hold my brother.

My father, hurried to ask questions about the severity, the treatment options and how it could get so bad again without us noticing.

My brain ran a million miles a minute, and I wanted to sob like my mother. I tried to breathe deeply, head lowered towards my knees, to calm down.

Jon sat beside me and rubbed my back. I couldn’t bear to look at anyone right now, especially him, although I was extremely grateful for him being there. For a person I barely know, his presence was incredibly calming.

Through my hands, I muttered, “Thank you for being here, I know this is not exactly anyone’s idea of a perfect date.”

I could hear the small smile on his lips, “Not really how I expected to meet your family, but Caleb’s a great kid. He’ll win this. And I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here…” he finished with worry in his voice, “I just hope I’m not intruding on your family right now.”

I looked up at him, unshed tears in my eyes, “Oh no, Jon, you’re not. Never.” His concern caught me off guard. It had not once occurred to me that he didn’t belong here, it just felt so natural: him playing cards with Caleb, chatting with my parents about Winnipeg and their respective hometowns in northern Minnesota, and comforting me with his existence. He fit too perfectly.

But that also put me on edge. Things, no matter how perfect seeming, rarely were.

Letting out a small laugh, he held out his arm and I eagerly leaned into it. Breathing him in and resting my head against his chest, he kissed the top of my head and muttered, as if reading my mind, “Besides, Murphy’s Law, right?”

After a few moments of silence, “Rhett, I know it may be too early to know, but I think I like you.”

I couldn’t help but smile into his chest, “Jon, I think I like you too.”



Jon and I stayed for a bit longer, the doctors letting the non-family visitors rules slide (perks of being a local demi-god, I suppose).

My mother was nearly catatonic. She didn’t handle my brother’s last round of cancer very well, losing a lot of weight and becoming prone to being ill herself. In many ways, I was like her. I didn't handle it well either, but I poured myself into my education and applying to medical school. Had I not done that, or if Caleb's outcome had been worse, I too may have succumbed to the depression and anxiety that so suggestively called my name.

My dad and Caleb, being a lot alike, tried to put on happy faces and crack jokes about the doctor’s bad comb-over or the nurse’s odd way of saying “mkay” after every statement.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, I squeezed Caleb’s hand. Again, for a young man that was 6 feet tall and nearly 200 pounds, he looked miniscule. And despite the smile on his face, the fear in his eyes was evident.

“Hey ‘Leb, I need to go home and shower and get clothes and stuff. I have a mandatory school thing in the morning but I’m gonna blow off all my classes tomorrow afternoon and bring you lunch,” I smiled down at him weakly.

He shook his head, “Rhett, you don’t have to take off school for me, I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed my hand again, the words meaning both that he was going to physically be there because he had to be and because he wasn’t ready to give up fighting this disease yet.

He smiled, “Besides, how are you gonna cure this fucking bullshit if you don’t go to class.” His curse words making my mom snap out of her catatonia for a moment to purse her lips.

I shrugged, “A day of playing hooky won’t kill me, it hasn’t killed Brandon yet,” I grinned. “Besides, I think some deep-dish Lou Malnati’s will do you good.”

His eyes widened, “Okay, now you’re speaking my language.”

Jon laughed at his change in demeanor at the mention of food. Caleb grinned at the athlete, “Besides you get the coolest sister award for bringing a real-life legend with you.”

Wrapping his shoulders in a hug, I directed my attention at my mom, my father having wandered down the hall for a vending machine.

“Hey, you need anything before I go?” My mom shook her head no.

“Well, I’ll be back in the morning, so let me know if you want me to bring stuff for you guys, “I said, knowing fully that my parents would spend the night with my brother.

Suddenly, my mom turned to Jonathan taking one of his hands in both of hers, “Thank you, Jonathan, for being here for us.” She sent him a watery smile, “And thank you for taking care of my Rhett.”

Sending him a sidelong glance as an apology, I hoped she didn’t make him feel awkward, seeing as we haven’t even gone on a single date.

Leaning forward, and with his characteristic intensity, he told her, “You have amazing children, Mrs. Pearson. Thank you for letting me stay.”

I had to bite down on my lip to stop the tears from falling.

In the midst of everything going wrong, Jon was a shining example of calm collection; like a beacon guiding me to shore. But I still had the inexplicable feeling that I was still doomed to moor at sea.

Telling myself that not everything that could go wrong, would go wrong just wasn’t enough to quell that worry.