Dr. Shortle was just leaving Cilla's room when Jon got there. He was alone today, Richie having begged off. He didn't think he could take spending the day at the hospital, not even for Cilla. "Tell her I'm sorry man. I just can't do it again today."
Jon couldn't blame him. He couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Richie to sit there in Cilla's room yesterday after all he had been through with his father. "It's all right man. She'll understand. And hopefully she'll be coming home soon."
Now, he had to wonder what he was going to find behind the heavy door. Did the doctor bring her good news this time, or more bad? "Only one way to find out" he muttered as he pushed the door open.
Cilla was lying on the bed, her body angled toward the wall of windows. The long spill of dark hair had been braided today leaving the smooth skin of her upper back exposed through the open back of the hospital gown. Crossing the room he leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, cheek. "Hey baby, how're you doing today?"
She turned and smiled at him. "I'm feeling pretty good today. The doctor was just here."
He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know. I passed her on my way in. What did she have to say today?”
She smiled hugely. "The MRI came back clean. The cancer hasn't spread."
More carefully than he thought he could, he pulled Cilla close. "That is the best news I've heard all week Sweets."
Laying her head on Jon’s shoulder she wrapped her arms around him. “She also said I could go home possibly tomorrow.”
He turned his head, burying his nose in her hair and kissing her head. "That's great baby. But you're not planning on staying at your apartment alone are you?"
Cilla picked her head up to look at him. "I live alone, have you forgotten that? Besides, where else would I go?"
Jon helped her settle back against her pillow. "My place."
She shook her head. She wouldn't impose on him like that, Sid either. She could take care of herself. "I'll be fine at my own place Jon. You're a busy man. You don't need me there getting in your way. Besides, don't you go to the Hamptons for the month with your kids?"
"You're not going to stay alone Sweets." He moved to sit in the chair. "I'd like you to come to the Hamptons with us. Steph has been asking to see you but I told her after you were out of the hospital."
"I can't go to the Hamptons now. I have an appointment with the doctor over at Sloan Kettering and we have to decide when to start my chemo. Dr. Shortle figured that would be in about three weeks. I need to be here in the City."
He reached over and took her hand. He wasn't going to be dissuaded. She wasn't going to get her way on this one. "I can bring you back for your treatments and we won't even leave until after your appointment. I don't want you to be alone baby." Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers. "I can't go through the tests and treatments for you, I would if I could. Let me take care of you the only way I can right now. Please?" As much as he wished he could trade places with her, this was the best he could do.
Cilla sighed. How could she argue with him when he was so determined to do this for her? “What about my apartment and my shop? I can’t keep having Sid and his mom take care of things. Sid is one thing, but Josie, she has a life of her own. She was only going to help out for a few days. I can’t ask her to drop everything for me.” God her life had been turned upside down and inside out over one scary, nauseating six letter word. Would things ever get back to some kind of normal?
Jon ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Was everything going to be a battle with her? “Don’t you usually close up for two weeks in the summer anyway?” He waited and at her nod he continued. “Why not think of this as an extended vacation? You have more than earned one.”
As she sat mulling over what he said the orderly came in with her lunch. She looked dubiously at the tray. Nothing thus far had held any appeal for her. Lunch wasn’t looking promising. The soup might be salvageable if there was a salt packet or two on the tray, but the sandwich was a definite no. The coffee was also a no. She learned that the hard way that morning. She grimaced at the thought and opened her juice.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
She sipped her juice, looking at him over the rim of the cup. “I’ll stay with you, but-“
He shook his head, “I knew there was going to be a ‘but’.”
Cilla smiled. “But, I need you to not baby me. I can take care of myself. And I’ll need to get with Sid and tell him what’s going on. I’ll also need stuff from my apartment.”
He nudged her soup toward her, “we’ll get everything you need. Now, you need to eat.”
She wrinkled her nose at the bowl of soup, “I’d rather have a BLT and potato salad.” She eyed him carefully, wondering if he would remember the night they spent together before he left for Europe.
He winked at her. “I just bet you would. When you’re healed, you can have anything you want.”
She laughed. “Anything?”
He smiled at her, “absolutely.”
It was good to see her in better spirits he thought as she ate. The road ahead of her was going to be long and bumpy, but for now, her smile eased his mind and loosened the band of fear around his a little and her laughter was music to his ears.
Chapter 86
Chapter 85
Jon was still grumbling about the traffic and his ticket when they walked into Cilla’s room. Panic raced through him when he saw her bed was empty. His eyes darted around the room, relief edging out the panic when he saw her standing looking out the window.
“Hey baby.”
She didn’t turn around. It was as if he hadn’t even spoken.
Leaving Richie at the door he crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Sweets?”
She jumped, twisted to see who was there and yelped when her staples protested. “Jesus Jon.” She pulled the buds from her ears and crossed an arm over her stomach. “God, don’t do that!”
He pulled her close, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realize you had your iPod on.” He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. “Are you okay?”
She nodded her head against his shoulder and took a deep breath trying to calm her breathing. “Yeah. Just don’t sneak up on me like that. You could kill a person that way.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry. What are you doing out of bed?”
“Help me back into it and I’ll tell you abo--“. She stopped when she saw Richie standing in the door way. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
Jon helped her get settled back into her bed. “I brought him with me.”
She looked back at Jon, wanting to be upset with him but she couldn’t. She had done a lot of thinking about everything. She decided that Sid and Jon had been right. She couldn’t focus on what might happen, no matter how afraid she was. And make no mistake, she was terrified, but she was going to do her best to stay positive. She had to deal with the here and now and just take things one day at a time. In the days ahead she would be leaning on Jon more than she had ever leaned on anyone. And if Jon needed Richie to lean on, then who was she to deny him that?
Richie moved closer to the bed, holding out the bag he had in his hand. “I brought you a little something.”
She grasped his hand around the handles of the bag. “I don’t know how much he told you, but I do know how hard it must be for you to be here. Thank you. If it’s too much and you feel like you need to leave, I won’t hold it against you.”
He smiled and sat in the chair next to the bed. “I’m all right. Go ahead and open your present.”
Pulling out the tissue she reached in, pulling out something hard and flat. It was a picture frame. Turning it over she smiled brightly. It was a picture of her and Jon from the last night of their tour at MSG. He must have snapped it right after she had the cake together. She remembered her and Jon talking, then turning when someone had called their name. “It’s wonderful Richie, thank you.” She turned it and showed Jon. “What do you think?”
“I think my friend needs to make a copy of it for me too.”
“I’ll e-mail it to you man.” Richie made a face at Jon. “You can print it and frame it yourself.”
Cilla set the picture next to the pink box that was on the tray in front of her. “So,” she looked at Jon “how was Philadelphia? How was the parade? I didn’t get to see any of it. I wasn’t back from my MRI until just a little bit ago.”
Richie snickered. “Yeah man, tell her all about your day.”
Jon flipped him off. “Don’t pay any attention to him Sweets. My day was fine.”
“Sure it was.”
If looks could kill, Richie would have been dead with the one that Jon sent him across her bed. While it was true he had been anxious about getting back to her, feeling guilty about having to be away, she didn’t need to know that. “Seriously, the parade was great. Everything went as expected.” He wanted to hear about her, not talk about his day.
Richie tried to cover the laugh with a cough but he just couldn’t do it. “It went so well little darlin’ that he got pulled over on his way back here.”
Cilla’s eyes widened and she looked from Richie to Jon. “You got a speeding ticket?”
Jon shook his head in resignation. “You’re lucky I like you man.” He turned his attention to Cilla. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just send it in and pay the fine. It’s no big deal.”
She folded her arms across her chest, “you shouldn’t have been speeding.”
He pouted, “but I was on my way back here to you.”
She traced his lower lip with her thumb, “and what if you had had an accident? I’m not going anywhere, not for at least two more days. You didn’t need to rush.”
He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. “Well, it’s too late now. What happened today? Obviously they got you up. How did the MRI go?”
She told Jon and Richie that the doctor had come that morning and took her catheter out and got her up and moving around. She had taken a short walk up and down the hall then needed to take a nap. The lunch they had brought her had been less than appealing. Sid had left earlier when they came to take her for her MRI. “And that’s about it. Oh, wait” she picked up the pink box and handed it to Richie. “Sid brought this. I think you might want what’s left in there.” It had taken her most of the afternoon, but she had managed to eat the croissant that he had brought. The sweets that were in the box held no appeal for her right now.
He grinned and his eyes danced. “A cannoli? Is there a cannoli in there?”
Jon pouted again. “What about me? Doesn’t Sid love me anymore?”
Cilla laughed. “Ow, don’t make me laugh” she held her hand over her incision. “I’m sure he still loves you baby. Don’t pout. There’s enough in there for the two of you to share.”
They were talking quietly when the doctor strolled in. “How is the patient feeling this evening?”
Richie moved from the chair to the far side of the bed so the doctor could check Cilla’s incision and her chart. “Everything looks good Cilla. Any pain?”
Cilla shook her head, “no, not right now.”
“Good.” Dr. Shortle marked something on her chart. “I heard from the lab today.” Her glance flitted from Cilla’s face to Richie then back again.
“You can talk in front of the guys Doctor. It’s fine.”
The doctor nodded and continued. “The staging results are back. You have stage two c ovarian cancer Cilla. It doesn’t appear to have spread, but until I see the MRI I won’t know for sure.”
Cilla felt Jon's hand close over hers and give a reassuring squeeze. "Okay, so what happens now?"
Chapter 84
The drive to Philadelphia was a nightmare. All Jon wanted to do was get there and get back as soon as he could. He’d hated to leave, hated that his life had to take him away when Cilla needed him. He glanced out the window; Jesus he could fucking walk faster than the cars were moving. He shook his head; he should have chartered the damn helicopter.
In the midst of blaring horns and cursing a blue streak his phone rang. “What?” he snarled into the blue tooth.
“Hey man, who pissed in your wheaties this morning?”
Jon rolled his eyes. Leave it to Rich to call while he was in the midst of a hissy fit. “I’m stuck in traffic. What do you want?”
Richie could see his friend growling at everyone who wasn’t moving fast enough to get out of the way. “Why didn’t you just take the jet or the chopper?”
Jon huffed out a breath, as if he hadn’t asked himself that question a hundred times already. “I wanted to drive. I like to drive, usually.” Driving helped clear his head and hell if he didn’t need a little time to think after the last few days. That and having to concentrate on the road, kept him from worrying about being away from Cilla right now. “Did you need something or were you just calling to bust my balls?”
Richie snickered. After 25 plus years his friend knew him so well. “When do you think your sorry ass might be darkening my doorstep?”
Jon peered out across the river of color, chrome and rubber, finally seeing the sign for his exit off the fucking Turnpike. He changed lanes and punched the accelerator. “With any luck, in about 45 minutes.” Well, luck and no cops he thought.
He took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you about something.” He decided while he was still awake in the wee hours of the morning that he needed to tell the guys what was happening with Cilla. He was going to need them as much as she needed him to get through this. He only hoped Richie could handle it without taking any steps back in his recovery.
“That sounds pretty serious Jonny. You want to give me a head start now?”
Jon shook his head, “I’ll give you the whole story when I get there.” He clicked off before Richie could say anything more. He cranked the radio, tapping the steering wheel in time to the music, taking the now familiar route to one of his favorite cities. The music and the lighter flow of traffic calmed him and by the time he crossed the Ben Franklin Bridge he was in a much better frame of mind. It seemed only scant minutes later that he was parking in the garage of Richie’s building.
At Jon’s incessant knocking Richie checked his watch before opening the door. Forty-five minutes, exactly. How the hell does he do that? “You know I hate it when you do that.”
Jon brushed past him and into the entryway. “Why do you think I do it?”
Richie rolled his eyes. “Come on in why don’t you.”
Jon set his bag down and tucked his keys in his pocket as he wandered through to the living room. The sun shone through the wide windows and Jon stood staring out at the city below. Running his fingers into his hair he blew out a breath and turned around.
Richie was standing there watching him. “What is it man? Spit it out.”
“It’s Cilla.”
“What about her, is she okay?”
Jon shook his head. “No man, she is not okay. She had surgery yesterday. She’s in the hospital.” He sucked in a breath. “She’s got cancer man.”
Richie’s face fell. He hadn’t expected that to come out of Jon’s mouth. “I’m sorry man. What kind? How is she doing?” He knew first hand what a diagnosis like that could do to someone.
Jon crossed the room and sat in an oversized chair. “Ovarian cancer. She had a hysterectomy yesterday and seemed to be all right when I left last night.” He looked up at Richie, “how did you do this man? The waiting yesterday damn near killed me.”
Richie sat on the sofa opposite Jon, “there are no instructions for this Jonny. You just need to be there for her. If and when she starts chemo, don’t baby her, don’t try to do things for her. Keep things as normal as possible.”
Jon huffed out a breath. “I don’t know about chemo yet. The doctors were waiting to see what stage it was in. She has to have an MRI today.” He looked past Richie and out the windows. “I just wish like hell I could be there instead of here.”
Richie knew exactly how Jon was feeling. “I know man, but you’ll get through it. You always do and then you can get back. I’ll go with you if you want me to. Where is she, Sloan Kettering?”
Jon shook his head. “No, Lenox Hill, but they’re going to move her over there.” He met Richie’s eye, “thanks.”
~
Sitting on the stage waiting for the festivities to start was agony. All he could think about was Cilla, wondering if she had had her MRI, if the doctor had gotten the results from the lab, wondering if she was alone or is Sid was with her. He hoped that was the case. He didn’t want her to be alone. Crossing his arms over his chest he tried not to think too much about her and concentrate on the task at hand. He pasted a smile on his face and let the press take their pictures. Christ, could they start already?
The roster was read; as each player was named he shook their hand and had to smile for a picture. Then he had to speak to the crowd that had gathered. He should be ecstatic; this is what they had worked so hard for. He just couldn’t find the enthusiasm. He forced a smile and rattled off the words he had written, but he just couldn’t summon the excitement.
After the last flash went off he disappeared. Enough was enough already. He made it back to Richie’s in record time. “Come on man.” He called Richie from the car. “Let’s go.”
Luck just was not on his side today. He got back across the bridge and was flying down 73 and got pulled over. Then, they got stuck on the Turnpike, again. Fuck! He pounded his fists on the steering wheel. “Why, today of all days, did I decide to fucking drive?”
Richie tried not to laugh. Patience was not one of Jon’s better attributes. “Calm down man. She’s not going anywhere, right? We’ll get there soon enough and you turning the air blue in here isn’t helping any.”
Jon cranked up the volume on the radio. He hated it when Richie was right.
Chapter 83
Her head was muzzy. Her eyes were heavy and her mouth dry as dust. Whatever the nurse had pumped into her had eased her pain and dulled her senses. Hearing voices Cilla forced her eyes open. It was the low drone of the television. She looked over and Jon was asleep in the chair, his fingers laced together, resting on his stomach. He’s still here. She had honestly thought he would leave once she had fallen asleep.
The relief she felt nearly overwhelmed her. She needed him to still be there. She hadn’t realized just how much until now. Why had she thought not to tell him? She didn’t want to be alone, now here, not now, not yet. Her emotions got the better of her and the tears that had gathered in her eyes at finding him still there trailed down her cheeks.
Reaching over she stroked his shoulder, tracing the bit of the faded shield that was peeking out of the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm sorry" she whispered as her fingertips caressed his skin.
His hand closed over her fingers, startling her. “I thought you were asleep.”
Jon blinked his eyes open, “just dozed for a minute. You okay?”
She sniffed and nodded, “yeah.”
He stretched and looked at her, “why are you crying, are you in pain? What's wrong, why did you say you were sorry?”
She wiped her eyes. Shit. He heard her. Cilla frowned and gestured to herself and the bed, “I’m sorry for putting you through all this.” She looked up, watery gray met concerned blue, “for getting cancer and not wanting to tell you about any of it.”
His eyes widened and as her words sank in he pulled his hand from hers and rose from the chair.
She watched as he paced. His face was set, his jaw tight. He was pissed.
Jon turned on her, “you weren’t going to tell me?”
She shook her head.
“You were just going to have this operation and go through God knows what kind of tests and treatments alone?” His voice was deceptively calm, quiet.
She just nodded her head. “You forget I'm a fan. I saw what happened to Richie when his father got sick and then died. I didn't want that to happen to you. I didn’t want you to have to go through what he did. I wanted to save you from the pain that I know is just down the road. I thought if I didn’t tell you, if I could let you go, it would be easier.”
Jon stalked back and forth across the room, “Easier for who?” He turned to face her, “do you think that little of me? Do you really think I wouldn’t have wanted to know? That I would walk away from you when you need me?” He stopped and stared out the window at the darkness. It hurt to think that she could feel that way about him. He heard her sniffle and blow her nose.
“No. I don’t think that. I only wanted to protect you from the pain, from the hurt that you’ll be faced with.” She drew in a shaky breath. She had to give him the out. “Our relationship is still so new. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen. If you want to walk out that door now, I’ll understand. But” she paused “I can’t do this alone.” She looked up, her gray eyes wide and wet. “I need you Jonny. I don’t want to lose you.”
Sitting down on the edge of the bed he took her hand. His anger ebbed, "its not your fault you got cancer Sweets. You can't think like that." He kissed her fingers, "and while I appreciate you trying to protect me, my heart, you have to stop worrying about me and concentrate on yourself. I can handle anything that comes at me and I promise you right here, right now, I'm not going anywhere. I won't let myself fall into the drink to get me through either." He pressed her chin up with his thumb. "But Sweets, you've got to talk to me, tell me what's bothering you instead of trying to make decisions for me, no matter how well intentioned."
"I'm sorry. It's just been so much to deal with. I'm still not sure which way is up yet." The stress and emotional upheaval of the last few days combined with the surgery she had endured had her ready to go back to sleep without the aid of any medication.
He nodded. "I can only imagine. Can you sit up a little?" He wanted to hold onto her for just a minute, reassure her that she could count on him.
She struggled but managed to do what he asked. "Now what?"
He opened his arms and pulled her close, stroking the water soft skin of her back, tracing her spine, her tattoo through the open back of the ugly hospital gown. "I need you too baby. I'm going to help you and be here for you as much as I can. Okay?"
She clung to him. She loved him so enormously, how could she have almost screwed this up? "Okay. But Jonny, just one more thing."
He pulled back, keeping his arms around her, not willing to let go just yet. "What's that?"
"Will you go home and eat and get some sleep? I know you have to go to Philadelphia tomorrow. You don't want to have bags and circles under your eyes for your team's big moment do you?"
He gave her a quiet smile and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. "You're doing it again. But you're right. And sunglasses can only cover so much." He studied her face, the wide gray eyes tugging at him. "You know, the minute I saw you, when I opened my door and let you into my apartment to deliver that cake, I knew I was in trouble." He laid his lips gently on hers. “I love you and I’ll be back tomorrow after the parade.”
She rested her head on his shoulder for just a moment, drawing on his strength, listening to his heart beat. “Okay. Maybe I’ll be able to watch on the TV.”
“You do that.” He helped her settle back against the pillows. “Do you need anything before I go?”
She shook her head. “I’m going to sip my water and go back to sleep.”
He kissed her once more. “Sweet dreams baby.”
