Beneath It All (Beneath #1) Page 18

  I hope you’re having a fun day with the girls. Jen texted me to let me know that she was planning a girls’ day. I’m going to be working late but should be home by 7:30 so we can have a late dinner.

  I love you, Noah.

  We stepped up to buy our tickets to the movie, and I typed a quick message back telling him that I was looking forward to dinner.

  I had a hard time focusing on the movie. My brain was preoccupied with what happened with Noah in bed last night and now with seeing her, my stomach was a mess. It wasn’t the same uneasy feeling I had experienced from chemo; this was different. I’d take the chemo stomach over this one, quite honestly.

  As we exited the movie theater, my eyes quickly scanned across the street to the restaurant. Stacey was just getting up, and I caught a glimpse of a man’s hand on her lower back as she leaned up for a kiss. I couldn’t make out his face since it was now dark outside and the lights in the restaurant were dim. But one thing I knew in my gut was that it wasn’t her husband. My stomach rolled as I watched them walk away.

  “Jen, we need to go. Right now. I’m not feeling well.” I feigned as I tried to stay calm and not freak out completely. “I need to get home.” My mind was getting away from me, and the ideas going through my head needed to stop.

  “You don’t look well at all. Do you need to go to the hospital?” She put her hand to my forehead. “You’re cold and clammy and all the blood has drained from your face.”

  “No. I’ll be fine. I just really need to get home. The sooner, the better,” I said pathetically.

  “You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

  “Yes. I’m sure,” I said as I gave quick hugs to Dana and Bobbie Jo before Jen and I headed toward her car.

  I rushed out of the car as soon as Jen stopped in the driveway; my feet hit the sidewalk hard as I dashed toward the front door. The door began to open as I shoved my key in the lock, and I was met by brilliant blue eyes.

  Noah stood barefoot in front of me, wearing a pair of jeans with an untucked dress shirt, a glass of wine in his hand. His hair was slightly damp from a shower he must have taken, and he looked relaxed.

  “Welcome home, sweetheart. How was your girls’ day?” he asked as he gave a wave out to Jen as she pulled out of the driveway.

  “Good,” I responded as my mind started racing again. Was he really home waiting for me all this time? Were the drugs making me hallucinate? Or was I simply losing my fucking mind?

  I moved past him and ran upstairs as fast as I could and went straight for the closet, closing the door behind me. I sank down on the bench and buried my face in my hands as the tears began to fall. I heard a light tap on the door.

  “Victoria, can I come in? Are you okay?” Noah asked through the door.

  I tried hard to settle my breath before answering. “Give me a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  I took a little extra time to gather my thoughts before changing into something more comfortable. When I finally looked at myself in the long mirror, I gasped when I saw how sickly I looked. Pinching my cheeks to bring some color to my face was no use, and Noah already knew I was wrecked. There was no use worrying about it at this point.

  He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands when I opened the door. The tortured look in his eyes was undeniable. Tension rolled off him in waves. He looked hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not moving from the doorway to the closet. “I’m not feeling like myself today, and it probably wasn’t wise for me to go out.”

  It was a total bullshit line, but I was in no mood for a total breakdown, and if I told him what I thought I had seen just a short time ago, it would only piss him off. I was walking a fine line with Noah’s emotions right now and it felt like it was starting to fray like a thin piece of thread.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “Nothing. I’m letting little things get to me. I’ll work it out.” I stepped toward him and put my arms around him. He laid his head against my flat chest and when I winced, he started to pull back. “Please don’t. It’s fine. You just caught me off guard.”

  He pulled me closer between his legs and looked up at me. “I love you, Victoria. I’m worried about you. It’s my job as your husband. Please understand that.”

  “I do understand. I’m sorry—this is something I need to sort out on my own.” I felt like a petulant child and stepped out of his hold. “I’m hungry. Did you still want to have dinner?”

  “Sure. What would you like?”

  “A cheese pizza sounds good.”

  “Cheese pizza it is,” Noah said as he stood up and grabbed my hand to halt my movement toward the door. “It’ll be okay. You will get through this. Just take it one day at a time. I know it’s easier said than done, but try your best.”

  “I am.”

  I had nothing more to say. The constant battle with my overactive brain was starting to make me feel foolish. It was like the angel and devil had moved from their respective shoulders and started to cohabitate in my head. It wasn’t pretty.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I AM POWERFUL

  Friday afternoon arrived, and I felt like I was walking the plank as I made my way back to a treatment room with Noah at my side.

  Margaret flipped open my chart. “I heard you had a rough go for a few days after the first treatment. How are you feeling now?”

  “Better now, but we need to do something different. I cannot go through that again. It was miserable.”

  “Dr. Guthrie is going to stop in before we start your second treatment. She has a few ideas that might help, and she wanted to discuss them with you. Let me get your blood pressure and heart rate in the meantime.”

  She went about her business recording my stats before stepping out to get Dr. Guthrie.

  A few minutes later, Dr. Guthrie stopped in to discuss the side effects I had experienced. They weren’t anything completely out of the ordinary, but she was concerned over my being so dehydrated and not eating due to the nausea.

  “I am going to have Margaret give you another anti-nausea drug today in the IV drip. I would also like to prescribe Marinol for you to take for three to four days after. It will help keep the nausea away and will increase your appetite.”

  “How does it do that?”

  “It’s an FDA-approved synthetic byproduct of cannabis, also known as marijuana. A few of my patients have had great success with it.”

  I raised a curious eyebrow. “Do I smoke it? I’ve never smoked anything before.”

  “No. It is a pill that you will swallow. You need to be careful of the dosage, as it can make you feel a bit loopy.” She smiled at this warning. I assumed she must have had an issue with another patient taking a few too many.

  “Noted.”

  “Agreed. I’ll monitor the intake of them like I do the other meds,” Noah interjected.

  “Great. Well, I think we’re done here. I’ll have Margaret call in these prescriptions so that they are ready for you to pick up on your way home.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Noah and I said in unison. We were not about to have a repeat of two weeks ago.

  As promised, Margaret loaded me up with four different meds before treatment started and my prescriptions were ready when we stopped by the pharmacy on our way home.

  With the bottle of small orange sphere-shaped pills ready for me, I ate a light dinner of soup and crackers. I wasn’t going to risk getting sick, so I popped one right away. Yeah, this was going to be fun!

  *

  I made it through the first night without throwing up, which was huge. However, as Dr. Guthrie warned, I was feeling pretty loopy. The Marinol definitely made me feel like I was tripping, but at least my appetite was back. Find the positives . . . always the positives!

  After two days, I cut back on all of the nausea meds and the fog started to lift. I had felt like I was in the Twilight Zone and honestly didn’t remember much of what went
on for the last few days.

  This treatment was much better, and while I still felt knock-down tired, I was feeling more like myself, which was good because Noah had to fly out on Tuesday night for a briefing in Chicago on Wednesday. He would be back late Wednesday night.

  I wasn’t comfortable with being home alone the entire time, so on Tuesday night, Bobbie Jo brought dinner and stayed the night. We gossiped and I feel asleep by nine o’clock. I definitely was not the life of party.

  By Friday I was happy to be part of the active living again. I was looking through the stack of cards that arrived in the mail when an appointment alert went off on my phone.

  Notification: Fill appointment with Dr. Forrester @ 2:30 p.m.

  Whoops! I forgot I had made an appointment for my first fill today. I looked at the clock, and it was only ten o’clock, but I wasn’t sure if I should drive yet after the Marinol. The warnings were very specific to not drive, and I knew Noah had meetings all day.

  Bobbie Jo said to ask if I needed anything, so I gave her a call.

  “I get to meet Dr. McHottie? Fuck yeah, I’ll take you! Be ready to go at two,” she squealed before hanging up.

  I finished my bagel and strolled up to the bathroom to take a quick shower. My hair was starting to shed on my pillow this morning, and I figured it was only a matter of time before it was all gone. A few larger clumps were hitting the shower floor as I was rinsing.

  The one thing that I wasn’t going to cry over was losing my hair.

  As I stepped out of the shower, I looked in the mirror and noticed patches were missing here and there, with no rhyme or reason.

  Well crap. I wasn’t prepared for that.

  Grabbing my hair towel, I started to rub the remaining hair dry while debating what to do. Should I shave it all off, or just put on a hat and ignore it until it all fell out on its own? I continued to move the towel around on my head and stopped when I noticed something odd.

  I looked down at the towel in my hands, and it was covered in dark brown hair. I peered back up at myself in the mirror and realized that I had pretty much rubbed most of the leftover hair off of my head with the towel.

  Was it possible to rub off your hair? Yes, apparently it was. Okay. I could do this.

  I wasn’t going to cry; in fact, I was going to make the best of it. Reaching for another towel from the linen closet, I finished wiping my head clean. A small pinkish-colored birthmark toward the top of my head on the right side caught my attention. It had a slight heart shape to it and made me smile; it was a secret underneath that I would have never known about.

  Maybe this journey was about discovery, and this was the subtle way of telling me to look for positive signs.

  I spent little extra time doing my makeup today since I wasn’t sure if I was just going to embrace the “bald is beautiful” look or try a scarf or hat.

  Today was going to be a good day. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft cashmere cardigan, and the fact that I was seeing Dr. Forrester didn’t hurt. He was handsome and had always been so caring toward me.

  I attempted to wrap a scarf around my head, but it looked like a turban gone wrong, and I only had a few baseball hats, and they looked funny. Bobbie Jo would definitely agree to a hat shopping spree after my appointment, so I would just go au naturel for today. Bald is beautiful!

  *

  When the doorbell rang, I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “Well, look at you, all shiny and new! God, your head is perfectly shaped, and you look kinda hot,” she said with a clever little smirk on her face.

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Hell no, I’m not. You look beautiful. Are you okay with it being gone?”

  “Yeah, I actually am. I knew it was going to happen, and today was the day. I’m good, really.” I shrugged as I grabbed my purse, which contained a scarf . . . just in case I wasn’t as ready as I thought. “Let’s go see the good doctor, and then you’re taking me hat shopping. I need something to keep this noggin warm come January.”

  “Shopping is my specialty.” She looped her arm in mine and led me out to her car, which was still running. “I turned on the ass warmer just for you.”

  *

  We were seated in Dr. Forrester’s waiting room and Bobbie Jo was touching up her lipstick. “Is he single?” she asked me like we were sitting at the bar.

  “Um. No. I don’t think so.” Was he? “Well, I guess I don’t actually know,” I whispered, hoping nobody else heard her question. I had never noticed a wedding ring, but then again, I had never really looked for one.

  “Well, we need to find out.”

  “Bobbie Jo, don’t you dare ask him in front of me. He is my doctor, not some guy I’m trying to set you up with. Please behave yourself.” What the hell was I thinking when I called her? She could tell I was getting a bit worked up.

  “Calm down. I won’t do anything to embarrass you. You know my bark is worse than my bite. I’m just trying to keep you in a good mood.” She patted my leg. “Don’t worry, sizzle tits—I’ll behave.”

  Elizabeth called my name, and Bobbie Jo followed me to the treatment room.

  I had never been in this room before. It was definitely more clinical. White tiled floor, an exam table, and a few pieces of equipment tucked back by the sink and counter. There was a silver tray sitting close to the table with a large looking syringe, a bunch of tubing, and a bag of fluid.

  I quickly looked away, as I didn’t need or want to see that. Elizabeth stepped out so I could slip on the little pink gown, open in the front, as normal.

  There was a knock on the door, and Dr. Forrester stepped into the room with Elizabeth in tow.

  “Good afternoon, Victoria. It’s great to see you again. I love the new look—you wear it well.” He smiled, referring to my now-bald appearance as he shook my hand. “How is chemo going?”

  “It’s nice to be back, and this last treatment was much better.” I rubbed my head feeling a bit self-conscious for the first time. “My hair just all fell out this morning, so this is my debut.”

  “It looks great. Did you know you had a little heart-shaped birthmark on your head?” He noticed the birthmark.

  I smiled in response. “No clue.”

  “It’s very unique.” He looked over at Bobbie Jo, who was actually speechless. “Hi, I’m Dr. Forrester. And you are?”

  The words struggled to leave her mouth as she held out her hand to him. “I’m Bobbie Jo. One of the best friends and chauffeurs.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. Victoria mentioned that a few friends might be coming with her to appointments in her husband’s absence. Thanks for bringing her today; that’s really nice.”

  I didn’t even know it was possible, but Bobbie Jo actually started to blush. Clearing my throat drew their attention back to me, and I smiled at them both.

  “So, are you ready for your first expander fill?” he asked as he walked over to the sink to wash up and slip on a pair of blue medical gloves.

  “Yes, I think so.” I took a deep breath as I reclined back on the partially propped-up table.

  “Great.” He stepped forward and helped me lie back. “Let’s get started. I’m going to find the ports using this magnetic guide and mark where we can do the injection.”

  I opened my gown, and he held some kind of contraption over my “lady lumps”; I watched as the little magnetic pointer moved around and he found the spot he needed. He pulled out his trusty purple Sharpie and marked me with an X like on a treasure map.

  He repeated the process on the other side and pulled the silver tray closer. I noticed him picking up the syringe and filling it with fluid through a tube attached to the saline bag. He moved to my side and wiped my chest with an alcohol swab.

  “You are going to feel a bit of pressure, but just breathe through it. Are you ready?”

  I nodded. “As ready as I’m going to be.”

  I looked over to Bobbie Jo so I could avoid s
eeing the needle I knew he was preparing to stick in me. Her eyes grew big, and when she shifted them over to my anxious ones, she smiled supportively.

  I felt a slight pressure and then it released.

  “Okay, I’m in. I’m going to start with twenty-five cc’s, and we’ll see how you’re feeling.”

  He started pushing down on the syringe. “How are you doing?”

  “So far, so good.”

  “I’m about to hit twenty-five . . . do you want to continue to fifty?”

  “Sure.” I honestly didn’t know, but I wasn’t feeling anything that uncomfortable yet. Plus, the faster I could get the fills done, the faster I would get rid of the expanders.

  He continued pressing on the syringe. “Still feeling okay?”

  “Yes. Should I be feeling something painful?” I questioned, not sure if something was wrong.

  “No, not at all. I can inject up to one hundred cc’s if you’re comfortable with it, but you need to tell me your limits. Some women have a difficult time with twenty-five. Everyone is different.”

  “Okay. Let’s keep going then,” I said. He nodded and continued.

  “We are at seventy-five; do you want me to keep going?”

  “Sure—go big or go home.” I smiled, feeling triumphant and proud of myself.

  “All done with the left side,” he said as he slowly pulled out the needle and placed a round Band-Aid over the spot where the needle had been. I looked down. WOW . . . I had a boob!

  I started giggling. “That is crazy. It’s like insta-boob. Bobbie Jo, you have to see this.”

  She walked over to see my now-filled left boob and my still deflated right one. “Oh my god. That is fantastic. I wanna take a picture,” she said as she fumbled for her phone.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” I objected. “My boobs, or lack thereof, will not be shared on any kind of social media, and they most definitely will not be stored in your phone. Give that to me right now!” I ordered, sticking my hand out.

  She backed away slowly with her hands up in the air, surrendering. “Okay, okay. I won’t take pictures. Settle your tits. Or rather, fill her tits, good doctor.” She winked at me, and Dr. Forrester just shook his head and tried to hide his smile.