Harley
1
I did everything I was "supposed" to do in life. I never did drugs, I graduated high school with a 4.0 which then led me to the highest law school in the country, I met a man, got married, and we had three children. The perfect life to many. Whatever perfect means.
I am Harley Grace Peters, 36 years old, sitting in front of a doctor telling me I have cancer.
Dr. Namara continues to speak in medical lingo about my condition, but I tuned out after the Big C. My eyes are focused on his but my mind drifts to a girl I knew in the fourth grade. Her name escapes me, however her face is as clear as day. Pale skin with dark circles around her bloodshot eyes. The red surrounding her bright turquoise eyes. The bandana that she wore every day to cover the loss of hair. One day I saw her without it on in the bathroom, she was adjusting it I suppose. I remember how beautiful she looked. I was too young to understand leukemia. She didn't show up to school one day, or the next. And we went on as if she never existed. In my adult days, I wonder what her parents went through. My daughter is in the fourth grade...
My mind snaps back to reality and I ask a simple question. "What's next?"
I caught him off guard. In fact, interrupted him mid-sentence. "Well, as I was explaining, your cancer has progressed to a point where there is no easy solution. I'm sorry to say this but any treatment would just be to make the rest of your time comfortable."
He said the word as if he was working at a Motel 6. He even added a smile. "How long then?"
The smile turned to a frown and he glanced at his paperwork on the desk. "Months. Maybe a year."
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I'm not sure how I got home but I find myself sitting on my couch with a glass of wine. My hair is up in a bun and my shoes are off. I'm relaxed. For the first time in weeks. No screaming children. No noise at all.
Spoke too soon. The door swings open and my twin boys, Blaine and Jackson, barreled in. My younger daughter, Bella, chases after them shouting about a notebook.
Next comes my husband. Jeremy Allan Peters. The most handsome man in the world. In my eyes, anyway. He closes the door behind him before his eyes meet mine. Then a smile appears on his face. The smile that causes his cheeks to squint his eyes. The smile that is so wide all his pearly whites are seen.
My mind drifts to the first time I saw that smile. First day of college, last class of the day. My mind was overflowing with the amount of work as it was. As I walked into the classroom, I notice I am the last person to attend. The only seat available was in the back corner next to....you know who. He flashed me that smile, we went on our first date that night, and got married that following summer.
Jeremy walks over to me and I lean to set my glass on the table. I stand up to give him a kiss, but the peck my husband was expecting, turned into a passionate one with tongue. As he moaned into my mouth, he pushed me away.
"Whoa, that was...I mean..." He stuttered. I think he was blushing.
"I missed you," I whispered and sat back down on the couch. He joined me.
"I missed you, too," he said. Then his voice turned serious, "how'd the doctor's go?"
I wasn't sure what to say. Jeremy was the one who noticed my breathing was off and suggested I call a specialist. Before law school, he attended a few semesters at medical schools and. He dropped out when he met his first cadaver.
I leaned to get my glass of Cabernet. I finished the last swig and turned to him. His face was filled with worry. His eyes started to water which made mine to the same. As I felt the first tear roll sown my cheek, all I could think was how good it felt to finally let go.
I am Harley Grace Peters, 36 years old, sitting in front of a doctor telling me I have cancer.
Dr. Namara continues to speak in medical lingo about my condition, but I tuned out after the Big C. My eyes are focused on his but my mind drifts to a girl I knew in the fourth grade. Her name escapes me, however her face is as clear as day. Pale skin with dark circles around her bloodshot eyes. The red surrounding her bright turquoise eyes. The bandana that she wore every day to cover the loss of hair. One day I saw her without it on in the bathroom, she was adjusting it I suppose. I remember how beautiful she looked. I was too young to understand leukemia. She didn't show up to school one day, or the next. And we went on as if she never existed. In my adult days, I wonder what her parents went through. My daughter is in the fourth grade...
My mind snaps back to reality and I ask a simple question. "What's next?"
I caught him off guard. In fact, interrupted him mid-sentence. "Well, as I was explaining, your cancer has progressed to a point where there is no easy solution. I'm sorry to say this but any treatment would just be to make the rest of your time comfortable."
He said the word as if he was working at a Motel 6. He even added a smile. "How long then?"
The smile turned to a frown and he glanced at his paperwork on the desk. "Months. Maybe a year."
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I'm not sure how I got home but I find myself sitting on my couch with a glass of wine. My hair is up in a bun and my shoes are off. I'm relaxed. For the first time in weeks. No screaming children. No noise at all.
Spoke too soon. The door swings open and my twin boys, Blaine and Jackson, barreled in. My younger daughter, Bella, chases after them shouting about a notebook.
Next comes my husband. Jeremy Allan Peters. The most handsome man in the world. In my eyes, anyway. He closes the door behind him before his eyes meet mine. Then a smile appears on his face. The smile that causes his cheeks to squint his eyes. The smile that is so wide all his pearly whites are seen.
My mind drifts to the first time I saw that smile. First day of college, last class of the day. My mind was overflowing with the amount of work as it was. As I walked into the classroom, I notice I am the last person to attend. The only seat available was in the back corner next to....you know who. He flashed me that smile, we went on our first date that night, and got married that following summer.
Jeremy walks over to me and I lean to set my glass on the table. I stand up to give him a kiss, but the peck my husband was expecting, turned into a passionate one with tongue. As he moaned into my mouth, he pushed me away.
"Whoa, that was...I mean..." He stuttered. I think he was blushing.
"I missed you," I whispered and sat back down on the couch. He joined me.
"I missed you, too," he said. Then his voice turned serious, "how'd the doctor's go?"
I wasn't sure what to say. Jeremy was the one who noticed my breathing was off and suggested I call a specialist. Before law school, he attended a few semesters at medical schools and. He dropped out when he met his first cadaver.
I leaned to get my glass of Cabernet. I finished the last swig and turned to him. His face was filled with worry. His eyes started to water which made mine to the same. As I felt the first tear roll sown my cheek, all I could think was how good it felt to finally let go.