Chapter 9 - THE TEST RESULT
Three days later, Sophie asked about the pathology.
Dr. Morris pulled up a chair.
That scared me.
Doctors stand when the news is simple.
At least that was the stupid rule my brain invented.
“The preliminary findings are encouraging.”
Sophie squeezed the blanket.
“But?”
“There are atypical cells we want another laboratory to review.”
“How long?”
“Several days.”
Sophie nodded.
I asked too many questions.
She kicked my shoe under the blanket.
I stopped.
After Dr. Morris left, Sophie said, “You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Trying to beat uncertainty to death with questions.”
“I don’t like uncertainty.”
“Nobody likes uncertainty.”
“I especially don’t.”
She looked at me.
“I noticed.”
Then her face softened.
“Ethan.”
“Yeah?”
“If this comes back bad, I don’t want you rebuilding your life around my illness.”
I felt anger rise.
Not at her.
At the sentence.
“I’m not discussing your funeral while you’re eating lime gelatin.”
“It’s green.”
“Exactly.”
She sighed.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“And?”
“And I’m here today.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
She looked away.
Later, while she slept, I went to the chapel.
I had not prayed seriously in years.
I sat in the back.
A man beside me was whispering in Spanish.
A woman in front held a knitted hat.
I did not ask for a miracle.
I did not bargain.
I said one sentence in my head.
Please give her a life she wants.
Not with me.
Not for me.
Hers.
When I returned, Sophie was awake.
She looked at my face.
“Where were you?”
“Chapel.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Wow.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m absolutely making it weird.”
Then my phone rang.
Dr. Morris.
The outside laboratory had called early.
May you like
She wanted us both in her office.
