Beneath, You're Beautiful Read online

  “I do. My mom used to make them for me when I was a kid and I still love them.”

  “Here’s your toast. I put butter on it—do you want any peanut butter, jelly, or cinnamon sugar on it?”

  “Nope, this is perfect.”

  “Great.” She sat down to my right. “I’m going to hit the gym for a bit and then stop at the grocery on my way home. Is there anything specific you want other than the usual?”

  “I saw a thing online about citrus water helping detox the body after chemo. Can you pick up some lemons, limes, and oranges? It says to slice them up and place them in the bottom of a glass pitcher, add ice and water and refrigerate for a half hour.”

  “Got it. Anything else?”

  “That should do it.”

  “Okay, toots. I’m going to grab my gym bag and head out. I’ll be back in a few hours. Do you need anything else before I go?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m planning to take a bath and lie around . . . you know . . . the usual post-chemo drill.”

  She smiled. “At least it’s getting better and the end is in sight. I’m so proud of you.”

  After she left, I finished my toast and went upstairs to draw myself a bath, but before I got in, I grabbed my phone and sent off a text message.

  Thank you for the beautiful bouquet. You certainly have good taste—you picked all of my favorite flowers. They smell amazing and you completely brightened my day!

  Victoria

  I set my iPhone on the dock and sunk down into the bubbles and closed my eyes as “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera and Beverly McClennan began to play. Tears began to cascade down my cheeks. They weren’t happy tears or sad tears; they were tears of gratitude. Gratitude for knowing that, no matter what, I was beautiful and strong. The words of the song spoke to me and reminded me of what was important. Me. I was given this life for a reason—a greater purpose—and nothing could or would drag me down.

  *

  A short time later, I was curled up on the sofa reading when I heard the front door unlock and the unmistakable click-clack of heels in the foyer. “Victoria?” I heard Bobbie Jo call out.

  “I’m in here,” I answered from the living room as I tucked my new blanket around my body; I was still lounging around in my pajamas. Don’t judge.

  “Hey, sizzle tits. How ya feeling?” she asked as she ungracefully flopped down on to the opposite end of the sofa.

  “Feeling pretty good. I’m a fan of this new drug combo. Even though it’s still chemo and nasty, it isn’t as brutal as the last combo.”

  “Well, you look much better. You aren’t as green. So, you got my care package?”

  “I did,” I answered sheepishly.

  “And when did you open it?” she asked sensing my hesitance.

  “This afternoon,” I came clean, feeling a bit ashamed that I didn’t open it right away.

  “What the hell, Victoria? Why’d you wait?”

  “Because I didn’t know what to expect when I opened it,” I replied, feeling bad for not opening it right away. “Blake was in the room, and well . . . I didn’t want to pull out something that would embarrass either of us.”

  “Have a little faith in me—I’m not about to have Jen deliver a dildo to you while you’re at the hospital hooked up to IVs.” She laughed. “I do have some restraint.”

  “Thank you for that, and as you can see, I love your gift.” I snuggled further into the plush cream-colored blanket covering me.

  “I’m so happy. Here.” She handed me a pink striped bag I knew well—as a matter of fact, many women knew this bag and what came in it. “I couldn’t resist getting you something else.”

  I was pretty sure it wasn’t another classic cotton pajama set. After digging through the tissue paper, my fingers skimmed along smooth satiny fabric, and I lifted an elegant black full-length satin and Chantilly lace slip out of the bag. “Oh my god,” I gasped.

  “I couldn’t resist. I know you aren’t feeling all that sexy right now, but this screamed you, and I figured you could use some new lingerie when the time is right. You know . . . for Dr. McHottie. We need to burn the old stuff—I’m sure it has cooties or something.” She laughed.

  Leave it to Bobbie Jo to make me teary in one sentence and giggle in the next. “You are one in a million, Bobbie Jo. Thank you for this. It’s gorgeous, and I know it will make me feel beautiful again . . . someday.”

  “You’re beautiful every day—don’t think otherwise.” She moved closer to me on the sofa, and I shifted so that I could lean my head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me. “I love you, Victoria, and you get more beautiful each and every day. I just want you to start to see that, and if putting on something makes you feel beautiful, then I’m going to buy you a whole closet full of things. You keep forgetting that beauty is what’s inside, not just the exterior. Although, your exterior is goddamn gorgeous.”

  “Thank you,” I sniffled. “I certainly don’t feel that way now, but I know this isn’t forever.”

  “That’s the right attitude to have.” She nodded to the bag. “There’s more.”

  My head snapped back to the bag sitting next to me. “Oh shit. I knew you were up to something.”

  “It’s not what you think,” she vowed, a smug look on her face.

  Pushing my hand further through the tissue in the bag, I felt something wrapped up at the bottom. It was soft, so I knew it was some type of clothing, but I couldn’t decipher what it was. I pulled the tissue-wrapped item out of the bag, placed it on my lap, and began to pull apart the red tissue. A laugh escaped when I saw what it was. “You got me Wonder Woman Underoos!” I screeched when I held up what was inside.

  “No. This, sweet Victoria, is your Wonder Woman cami and panty set—adults don’t wear Underoos.”

  I was in a fit of giggles now and absolutely loved Bobbie Jo in this moment. The cami and panty set were not expected and quite honestly were perfect. “I’m totally wearing it to my next appointment. They always say what you wear under your clothes is just as important as what people see. This will give me attitude, and I absolutely love it!” I leaned over and gave her a hug.

  “That they will—you need your spark back.” She kicked off her heels, pulled part of the blanket over her and grabbed the remote for the TV. “So, when’s Jen going to be home with dinner? I’m starved.”

  *

  Blake checked in on me a few times the week after chemo to make sure I was doing okay. His thoughtfulness was touching, and I found myself missing him a little bit on the days when we didn’t connect. I had never felt this comfortable with another man, not even with Noah; Bobbie Jo and Jen even noticed.

  I arrived for my final fill appointment with Dr. Anne McGuire and was anxious to get my surgery scheduled. The “coconuts” in my chest felt like they were ready to explode, and honestly they were so unattractive I couldn’t look at them anymore. There was absolutely nothing attractive about the reconstruction process, and I was beginning to question whether my chest would ever resemble a woman’s again.

  There was a knock on the door, and Dr. McGuire walked in. “Good afternoon, Victoria. This is it—the last fill. Are you ready?”

  “More than you know,” I said as I laid back on the procedure table while she prepped everything.

  She smiled knowingly. “You aren’t alone. Most women are anxious to move past this point and begin to put their lives back together. You only have one chemo treatment left, correct?”

  “Yes, my last one is next week.” I was starting to feel more and more exhausted from the drain on my body from chemo. While I wasn’t physically sick anymore, my body had had it, and it was time to be done. Hell, it was time to be done with all of this. “I cannot wait to put this chapter behind me.”

  “Congrats, you’re almost there,” she encouraged as she started the last fill on my left breast. “You can go ahead and schedule your surgery when you’re done today. I’d like to wait six to eight weeks so that your muscles can relax
a bit and adjust to the stretch.”

  “I remember Dr. Forrester explaining that to me during our first meeting. At this point, I’ll be thrilled just to have a date scheduled to remove these things,” I conceded as she removed the needle from my left expander.

  She proceeded to locate the magnetic port in the right expander and inserted the needle for the final time. “You’re all set,” Dr. McGuire said when she finished. “But be sure to check with Elizabeth before you leave to get your surgery scheduled. I’ll see you then,” she added before she left the room.

  I pulled off the paper gown and tossed it on the table before pulling my shirt back on. I took a peek in the mirror before leaving the procedure room.

  “I’m proud of you.” Blake surprised me when I stepped into the hallway. “Remember the first fill you had when you almost passed out on me?”

  I grinned. “Yeah, hard to forget that one . . .” But then I remembered what happened after that first fill appointment and frowned. “And impossible to forget what happened after.”

  “But look at you now. Look at how far you’ve come in the last four months. You survived the tissue expansion process, you have just one more chemo session, and you’ve kept moving forward with grace and dignity when it could have been so easy for you to give up. You’re strong, beautiful, and your journey is just beginning. Enjoy the ride,” he encouraged with a wink.

  Chapter Four

  I AM UNIQUE

  The week after my last fill flew by, and here it was, the night before my final chemo session and Blake had asked to take me out to dinner. He wanted it to be a celebration of putting the past behind and looking forward to new beginnings. Even though I was physically tired, I was mentally excited to be done and agreed to go.

  Over the last month, our “relationship” had definitely changed, but I wasn’t sure how to accurately define it. We enjoyed spending time with each other, but we hadn’t taken our physical relations to the next level. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but part of me wanted to bump it up a notch. When was the right time to take it there?

  He requested one of the private booths at McCormick & Schmick’s. It was tucked in the corner and had a curtain that would provide us with more privacy. He knew I would feel a little uneasy sitting out in the open area and wanted me to feel comfortable.

  Blake sat across from me with a huge smile on his face. “Can you believe tomorrow is it? Your last chemo session. That has to feel incredible.”

  “It does. Hard to believe it’s finally over. My body is screaming for me to take a break, and I guess I’m happy to have time to rest before surgery.” But I was disappointed that I had to wait almost two months.

  “I know you aren’t happy waiting until the eighth week for your reconstruction, but the timing couldn’t have worked out better. I promise the implant surgery will be easier, and you’ll feel instant relief from the expanders. I’m sure they hurt.”

  “Yeah, my chest is stretched to capacity, and I’m tired of looking like a body builder with huge pectoral muscles. I’m ready to be rid of the expanders and hope that the implants will make my chest look more like a woman’s.”

  He reached for my hand on the table. “You look beautiful tonight. I don’t think I have ever appreciated a little black dress any more than I do right now. Between that, the scarf you are wearing, and your shoes it is hard for me to take my eyes off of you. You pulled out all the stops tonight.”

  “You said this was a celebratory dinner, and I wanted to feel pretty considering I would be here with you.” I emphasized the last part because even though I was more confident with my appearance, I was still insecure being seen in public with him.

  “What do you mean ‘with me’?”

  “Have you looked in the mirror? You’re perfect, and every woman we passed to get to our table did a double-take when you walked by. Even the nurses gave me a questioning look after you visited me at chemo last month. I think they were all wondering what you were doing visiting someone like me.”

  “Well, the only woman I want to be with is sitting across from me, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. We haven’t officially labeled what is going on, but that needs to change. I know we haven’t been together long, and this is still very new, but I know what I want and I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

  That officially shut me up and shook me from my current pity party. “You want to make us official?”

  “Yes. Does that surprise you?”

  “I know we’re more than friends, but yes, I’m surprised. I mean we haven’t really taken it to the next level, you know . . . physically . . .”

  At that moment, the server tapped on the frame of our booth and slid open the curtain. I pulled my hand out of Blake’s as she set our salads down. I’m sure she overheard our conversation; she didn’t make eye contact with me when she offered fresh ground pepper, which I declined. It was hard to say who was more embarrassed—her or me.

  “I’m sorry, I guess this isn’t the right time or place to be discussing this.” I’d never wanted to be swallowed up by the floor more than I did right now.

  “Don’t be sorry. I have always asked you to be honest with me. Trust me when I say I want nothing more than to explore that part of our relationship, but I was being respectful of you. I don’t want to rush things.”

  “I just feel like I’m not physically attractive to you, and I understand why. He didn’t want to touch me after my surgery, and I wouldn’t blame you for feeling the same way.”

  Blake did not look happy when he calmly responded, “Stop it. Please do not compare me to Noah. Ever. We both know that I’m nothing like him, nor will I ever be. I’m attracted to you more than I have ever been attracted to any other woman. Webster’s dictionary doesn’t contain the appropriate word to describe you. Furthermore, the image of you has been responsible for every palm session I’ve had in the last few months. And if that doesn’t convince you, the fact that I’ve been turned on since I picked you up for dinner should speak for itself.” He looked down at his crotch.

  He had this incredible way of leaving me speechless and feeling totally undeserving of his attention. I had consistently put him in the same “man bucket” as Noah, and I felt horrible. My insecurities were driving me when it came to Blake—how could this incredible man want me? It was the question I kept asking and he kept answering, only I wasn’t listening; I was too busy planning my responses in my head.

  “Victoria, the night you came over for dinner was a turning point for me. I wanted so desperately to take it to the next level, but you hesitated, and I knew you weren’t ready. You aren’t the type of woman to throw yourself at someone, and I respect that. I know it’s a lot for you to try and grasp, but you have to believe me when I tell you that beneath all of the physical and emotional scars, you’re beautiful. I want to be part of your life, and I want you to want to be part of mine. You are what I need.”

  “I want that too. I do. But I’m struggling to make sense of everything that is happening.”

  “You need to stop trying so hard to make sense of it and just feel.” He grabbed my hand in his again. “Do you feel that?” I nodded my head feeling the connection that came with just his simple touch. “Your hand fits perfectly in mine. When I make love to you for the first time, we’ll fit perfectly together because in that moment you will be mine and I will be yours.”

  He let go of my hand and quickly moved around to my side of the table and glided in next to me. “Victoria, I would move mountains for you to see the possibility of us, and I want nothing more than for you to believe me. What do I have to do?”

  “Kiss me.”

  And he did. He kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. It was soft and warm and every stroke of his tongue against mine had a purpose. He placed my hand on his thigh, and it instinctively moved to find the hardness he had hinted at earlier. I felt him twitch when I made contact with the very prominent issue. He lifted his hips, and my fingers curled over his le
ngth as he deepened the kiss.

  Knock. Knock.

  Jumping like we were back in high school and about to get busted, we quickly smoothed out our appearances. Blake smiled at me while I was blushing. He tried his best to calm his breathing before responding, “Come in,” but he wasn’t very successful.

  The server opened the curtain, our plates in hand, with a surprised look on her face. “I’m sorry. Would you like me to keep your entrées warm in the kitchen until you’re done with your salads?”

  Blake reached for his wallet and pulled out his credit card. “Actually, would you mind boxing them up to go? My girlfriend isn’t feeling well, and I need to get her home.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll take care of that right away.” She disappeared as quickly as she appeared.

  “I didn’t mean to ruin our first dinner out,” I apologized, feeling like shit for being an insecure idiot and cutting our night short.

  “You didn’t ruin anything. We will take it back to my house where we can both get more comfortable and continue this conversation. You did us a favor.” He smiled, trying to make me feel more at ease.

  The server returned with the check and a bag containing our dinners. “I put in two fresh salads for you with the dressing on the side and some bread.”

  “Thank you,” Blake responded while signing the receipt. He took the bag from the waitress as he slid out of the booth and reached for my hand. “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  The drive back to Blake’s house was quiet. He continued to hold my hand as I replayed our conversation and actions from dinner over and over in my head. Why did I keep putting up a barrier? He wasn’t Noah, but I kept treating him like he was, which was unfair. I shouldn’t have been so hung up on the physical part of our relationship. I was letting the past affect my future. Then it hit me . . . Did he call me his girlfriend?

  Blake opened the door into his house and signaled for me to go ahead of him. “I’m going to go put this in the kitchen.”

  I nodded and went to hang my coat in the front hall closet. There were a few framed pictures displayed on the entry table that caught my eye. There was a candid picture of a little boy with what appeared to be his mom at the beach. The little boy was holding a beach ball, and his mom was messing up his hair; they both had smiles on their faces like they were joking around.