Chapter 110

Cilla stopped in front of the door and just stared for a long moment. The heavy gray metal door would take her into the dreaded room one last time.

Hopefully.

She couldn’t remember wanting anything more than she wanted this to be over and done with. She didn’t know how anyone went through this nightmare more than once. She didn’t intend on being a repeat customer.

Jon rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing light circles at the nape of her neck. “You okay?” He knew she was ready for all this to be over. He was too. And, with any luck, the next six hours would be the end of it.

“Yeah. I guess. I just want this all to be over with.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “After today, it will be.”

She looked up over her shoulder at him. He sounded so sure about that. Did he know something she didn’t? “Your pretty mouth to God’s ear Jonny.” As the corners of that very talented mouth twitched, she pushed the door open. “Let’s get this over with.”

Sitting in her chair by the window she studied the man sitting in front of her. He was scratching furiously on the pad of paper in his lap; the pad hadn’t left his side since he had come back from California with Richie in tow. She was glad she had sent him out there. He had put up a huge fight about going, the stubborn man. But he had needed the break. He had been her rock for all these months and he never complained. At least not to her anyway. What had she done to deserve him? She asked herself that question nearly everyday and could never come up with an answer. All she knew was that she was glad he had been there through everything with her. She never would have gotten through this alone.

She drew her gaze from him to the window. The February sky was blindingly blue and the sun shone brightly. She hoped that was a good sign of things to come. She looked back over at Jon, the sunlight a halo around his now blonder head. She smiled gently. She remembered the day he had come home with that new color. To hide the grays he said. Dark hair, light hair, she didn’t care. It was just hair. Reaching up she slid her fingers under her hat and slipped it off her head. Hers was coming back finally. Would it still be dark like it was before?

Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up and smiled. She had taken off her hat and in the sunlight he could see the faint hint of peach fuzz on her head. Her hair was starting to come back. His eyes slid to her face, she looked a million miles away. What could she be thinking about? “Everything okay Sweets?”

She refocused her eyes, finding his all-knowing blue ones trained one her. “Yeah. Just thinking.” Had she ever thanked him for all he had done for her these last several months? His birthday was coming up quickly. Would she be able to give him what she wanted most?

He put his pencil and paper on the floor by his chair. “About what?”

Reaching out, she took both of his hands in hers. “You.”

He rubbed circles on the backs of her hands. “Me? What about me?”

Looking up, her gaze met his. “I don’t think I have ever told you thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” He was confused. What had he done that morning that she felt she needed to thank him for?

Letting go of one hand she slid her fingers across his jaw, cupping his cheek. He hadn’t shaved that morning and the stubble there scraped deliciously across the sensitive skin of her fingertips. “For being here with me for every one of these damn appointments. For holding my hand while I’m sicker than a dog afterwards. For putting up with all my crap moods. Just for being there for me through everything.” She looked up and gray met blue. “For loving me.” Her thumb stroked across his lower lip. “I don’t know what I did in this life to deserve you, but boy am I glad you ordered Steph’s birthday cake from me last year.”

Turning his head he kissed her fingers before moving to sit in the chair next to her. “You don’t have to thank me for anything Sweets.” Leaning in, he pressed his forehead to hers. “There isn’t anyplace else I’d be on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Any day for that matter. And for the record, I ordered that cake from Sid, not you.”

Cilla laughed and lifted her head slightly, pressing her lips to his. She started to say something and was cut off by the creak of the door opening.

“Miss Cilla!”

She turned and saw Abby standing there. She was smiling and had her hands on her hips. “You didn’t save my seat.” She turned to the man on Cilla’s left. “Mr. Jon you’re sittin’ in my chair.”

Jon snickered and kissed Cilla’s head before raising his hands in defense. “I’m sorry.”

She tapped her toe. “Are ya gonna move?”

Jennie came in with Richie following close behind. “Abby, be nice. You don’t talk to anyone like that.”

Abby dropped her head, “sorry Mr. Jon.” She raised her wide, pleading blue eyes to him. “Will you please move so I can sit next to Miss Cilla?”

Jon stood and picked the little girl up. Richie was right, she was a little firecracker. “Here” he set her in the chair he had just vacated, “I was just keeping it warm for you.”

Abby giggled. “Thanks!”

Leaving the girls to talk, he turned to Richie, “are you going to be all right here today?”

“Yeah. I think so. I brought my guitar. I thought we might get a little work done while we’re here.” Maybe if he was distracted he wouldn’t think about the last time he had been in a room like this.

Jon nodded. “I had the same thought. My notebook is over there on the floor. I had some ideas that I’ve been playing with.” Together they crossed to where Jon had left his things.

Cilla looked across at the two men; their heads were bent together going over something Jon had written. She didn’t miss Jon’s frown and the frantic erasing and crossing out he was doing. She smiled; he was ever the perfectionist, even in the beginning stages of a new song.

The feeling of a hand in hers had her turning her attention to the chair next to her. Abby was holding her hand while Nurse Mary attended to her. She smiled at the girl and then looked to her mother. “How’re you doing?”

Jennie smiled genuinely at Cilla. “So far so good today.”

It was good to see her smiling. “How’re things with Richie?”

Jennie’s smile got wider. “Good. Moving along slowly, but that’s okay. He’s a good man Cilla and he’s so good with Abby. She just adores him. I can’t tell you how surprised I was when he showed up at my place the other day. And to have him here, you can’t imagine what that means.” Jennie was a fan and she had seen what had happened to Richie when his dad had passed away. She hoped he wasn’t pushing himself too hard to be here for her and Abby.

Cilla knew it was a big step for him. “Just don’t get upset if he has to leave at some point. This can’t be easy for him.”

Jennie nodded. “I know and I told him that if that’s what he needed to do, it was okay.”

The time passed slowly as the girls talked and Jon and Richie worked. Abby dozed and Cilla watched as the three other adults shifted restlessly in their seats. It couldn’t be easy for any of them to sit still for so long. “Why don’t you all go get some lunch or take a walk or something? Abby and I will be fine on our own.” She stroked the sleeping girl’s head where it rested against her shoulder.

Jon and Richie looked almost relieved at her suggestion and Jennie looked pensive. “Are you sure you’re all right?” She really didn’t want to leave Abby alone, but she could use a little air, maybe a cup of coffee.

Cilla nodded, “yeah, go ahead. We’ll be fine.”

Richie tucked his guitar back into its case and took Jennie’s hand as they headed to the door. “We won’t be long.”

Cilla just waved them off. No reason they should have to be cooped up in this stuffy little room if they didn’t have to be. “Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.”

Bracing himself on the arms of her chair, Jon dipped down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “You sure you’re all right?”

She nodded, stroking the bulging muscles of his forearms. “Yeah.” A ghost of a smile played across her lips. “Will you do something for me?”

“What?” He would do anything for her, but just that hint of a smile had him a little leery.

Her hands slid up his arms, kneading his biceps. “I want you to relax. You’re too tense. Have a greasy cheeseburger and a heap of fries for lunch and then I want you to take Jennie and Richie to my shop. Tell Sid whatever the three of you want is on me.”

His brow furrowed. That was it? That was all she wanted? There had to be more to that smile than that.

“And?” He waited. He was sure there had to be something else.

She cocked her head to one side. “And what?”

“What else? What else do you want me to do?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. That was it.”

He dipped down for a kiss. “You sure?”

She pressed her lips to his once again. “Well,”

He grinned. “I had a feeling. What?”

She smiled. “You can bring something back from the shop for Abby. She might want something later or maybe tomorrow.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t know about the cheeseburger and fries, but I’m sure it won’t be hard to twist Rich’s arm to get him to go to your shop. You’ve seen him around your cannolis.”

She smiled and gave him a gentle shove. “Go. Your friends are waiting.” He was stalling. “And stop worrying about me. I’m fine.”

He walked backward toward the door. She couldn’t make him stop worrying, but apparently he needed to do a better job of not letting it show. “We won’t be too long Sweets.”

She waved him off and laid her head back against the chair, her eyes sliding shut as the door clicked closed.

The room was still quiet when she opened her eyes an hour later. She’d had the most wonderful dream, but the male lead was no where to be seen.

Abby was paging through a book and looked up when Cilla moved. “Miss Cilla?”

Cilla stretched as best she could and turned. “What’s up Abby?”

“Where’s my mommy?” she asked on a near whine.

Taking a closer look, all thoughts of Jon fled. Abby didn’t look so good. “Are you all right sweetie?”

Nearly in tears, Abby shook her head. “I don’t feel good. Where’s my mommy?”

Cilla reached down for the plastic pan. “Here honey. Your mommy and Mr. Richie and Mr. Jon went to get something to eat. They should be back soon.”

Cilla’s eyes shifted furiously from the sick little girl to the door. She hoped to see one of them come through that door soon. She wasn’t feeling so great herself. Fishing in her bag for a napkin or a tissue, something to help wipe Abby up with, she didn’t hear the door open.

Jon watched her take care of Abby, ignoring the fact that she herself was nearly as green as the little girl she was trying to comfort. She had to be the strongest, most selfless woman he had ever met.

Slipping his hand in his pocket, he fingered the item he had bought weeks ago. The chemo had to work, she had to beat this. He didn’t want anything less than the rest of his life with her.