Chapter 10 – Fight Like a Girl
"I'll hold my head high/ I'll never let this define
The light in my eyes/ Love myself, give it hell
I'll take on this world/ Yes, I'll stand and be strong
No I'll never give up/ I will conquer with love
And I'll fight like a girl"
~Bomshel
The day after her three oldest girls returned to Barden after the Thanksgiving holiday, Beca glared unhappily as the door opened to an exam room. Stacie met the look with a bright smile. "Hey, Beca."
"You know – I don't think this is necessary," Beca told her without greeting. It had finally happened - she had been able to drag out Chloe's request that she have a physical - but now that homecoming weekend and Thanksgiving were over, the redhead had again begun poking at her wife about it.
"I know you don't," Stacie answered. "I was there when the discussion happened that got you to make an appointment. Seriously, Beca – it's been more than two years since you did any more than get a flu shot. You're not 20 anymore – "
"Shut it," Beca replied.
"Did you take a Klonopin?" Stacie asked, picking up the blood pressure cuff and wrapping it around her friend's arm. Beca nodded. She took a different medication for her anxiety on a daily basis - much to Chloe's chagrin - but she also took Klonopin when something was happening that she knew would trigger her anxiety. Such as a doctor's appointment.
"One or two?"
"Two," Beca responded. For all the good it did - she didn't feel calmer. And she was sure her damned blood pressure wasn't low enough.
"Stop holding your breath," Stacie said, as she measured Beca's blood pressure. She did it three times, all the while asking questions about the kids – trying to get the brunette to forget about the blood pressure cuff. She wrote the numbers down and said nothing as she moved on to Beca's pulse and other vitals. She listened to her heart and lungs looked in her throat and nose. "Have you had your vision checked at all?" She asked, as she felt Beca's thyroid and the lymph nodes behind her ears.
"I don't wear glasses."
"Right now is when vision starts to deteriorate," Stacie told her. "It's better to catch it before it's a big problem – it keeps your eyes stronger in the long run. You should get them checked out."
"Noted," Beca said. "But I'm sure you'll tell Chloe."
Stacie laughed. "How in the hell was I supposed to help you out of that one?"
"You could have lied," Beca offered.
"I can't lie!"
"Why not?"
"It's immoral. Besides, if you die from something completely preventable, then Chloe can sue my ass – and you'd be dead." They stared at one another silently for a moment.
"It still feels like you tattled," Beca responded.
"Sorry about that, cap." She held the paper sheet that would cover Beca's lap once she was in a prone position. "Can you lay back for me?"
Beca groaned like she was in agony, but did. "You're a brat sometimes," Stacie said, seeing that Beca left her bra on under the gown. Beca simply smirked – a look that was wiped off her face as soon as it took Stacie no more than ten seconds to snap her bra open in the back and remove it.
"You should not be so good at that!" Beca told her. Stacie smirked and then returned to the exam. Beca closed her eyes as she poked and prodded her breasts and under arms.
"Do you do a self-breast exam at home?"
"Same answer I gave you last time. I don't like unnecessary touching." The doctor just smiled and shook her head.
Stacie continued the exam – spending more time than Beca thought was normal on a spot under her left arm. Finally, she stopped. Beca opened her eyes and realized that Stacie looked contemplative – not her favorite look for her old friend. She took Beca's right hand and used it to probe the same spot just below her armpit. "Do you feel that?" She felt it – it felt like a small marble – but not as round. Like a chick pea. Beca hated chick peas.
"What is it?"
"Probably nothing," Stacie said quickly. "Have you felt it before?"
"No," Beca said, feeling extremely freaked out. "Does it feel like something to be worried about?"
"It's probably a cyst," Stacie told her. "We can do a really quick aspiration to determine if it is or not." She closed Beca's gown and moved over to the cabinets to pull several things that Beca couldn't see.
"What if it's not?"
"It probably is," Stacie responded shortly. She returned to Beca's side. "Stay still and close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to stick a needle into that lump – and you probably don't want to see it." She was right – Beca did not want to see it. She closed her eyes tightly, her hands fists above her head as she waited for pain. It wasn't terrible – just a pinch and a bit of pressure. She hissed lightly. But the pressure lasted too long.
"Why is it still in there?" Beca asked, not amused.
"I'm trying to draw liquid from it." The pressure was gone then. "All done," Stacie said. She fixed the gown to cover Beca again.
"And?"
"It's not a cyst. It doesn't have anything in it to drain – a cyst would have blood or puss."
"Lovely. What now?"
"Let me finish the exam and we can talk about some other tests we should do – just to rule out any problems." Beca's heart raced – she didn't like the word problems and she didn't like that Stacie was being evasive. She slid to the end of the table when told and the pelvic exam and pap smear were done in mere minutes. Beca tried to breathe – but she felt herself panicking. Stacie tried to calm her several times, reminding her to breathe and promising that it was probably nothing. She tried to distract her again by asking her about work and the kids – but she still kept falling down the slippery slope into a panic attack. When finished, Stacie stood from her stool – kicked it across the room, and removed and disposed of her gloves.
"Bec, go ahead and get dressed – I'll be back in just a few minutes. I'm leaving another Klonopin on the counter – take it."
Beca nodded, her eyes still closed. Once the door closed, she sat up among the lovely paper trappings. She threw them all away, cleaned herself up, and dressed back in the jeans, black shirt, and red jacket she had put on that morning. The black and gray scarf with thin red accents wrapped loosely around her throat. She popped the pill into her mouth, letting it dissolve under her tongue. She had read once that it was supposed to help it work faster – but she found that to be pure crap.
She ran her hands through her hair, holding her head as she sat down in one of the waiting room chairs. She picked up her phone, looking at her last message. From Chloe. "Have a great day! Love you!" What was she supposed to tell Chloe?
She didn't have much time for misery – there was a knock on the door a moment later and Beca answered. "Come in." Stacie was back – this time with a nurse.
"We need to run a few panels," she told Beca. The smaller brunette removed her jacket, rolled up her sleeve, and sat back on the exam table. The nurse was quick and the procedure was barely noticeable, but Beca still felt sick. Once the nurse was gone, she pulled down her sleeve and accepted the jacket Stacie handed back to her. She shrugged into it again. "Let's go talk in my office," Stacie suggested. Beca followed her down two different hallways to her office – a room where she did most of her non-clinical work – research for different patients, consults, medical charts.
Beca sat in one corner of the soft gray sofa and accepted a bottle of water from Stacie as she sat across from her in the other corner. "Just tell me how bad it could be," Beca finally said.
"We don't know anything yet," Stacie reminded her. "It's a lump – in your breast – that's not a cyst. That's all we know for sure. It could still be completely benign. And given your age and family history – it probably is. But we'll check it out anyway. You need to have a sonogram – that will help to determine the size under the surface. Then we'll schedule a biopsy – that will allow the surgeon to go in – laparoscopically – and take cells so we can test them. At that point, they'll take as much of the lump as possible."
"Outpatient?" Beca asked.
Stacie nodded. "But they do put you under general anesthesia, so it'll be an all-day affair."
"Great."
"I know you're scared – I don't blame you. But there's nothing you can do right now but try to stay calm and remember that it's probably nothing. And if it is something, we'll take care of it."
The rest of the day was excruciating. Beca pretended nothing was wrong, the whole while her heart was pounding so hard that she thought she might just keel over from stress. She called the studio to speak with one of the upper management suits about upcoming deadlines. She picked up Dahlia from school and helped the little girl with her homework. She made dinner – she ate with her wife and youngest daughter. She video chatted with Vera and heard all about some biochemical engineering class that she was taking. She video chatted with the twins – Poppy regaled her with stories from her day while Bella threw in occasional barbs from across the room while reading some thick tome of a book. It was a normal afternoon and evening that left the music producer, wife, and mother tired to the bone. She was a terrible liar.
Once Dahlia was sleeping, Beca and Chloe usually split up for another hour or two to do their own things – but on this day, Beca took Chloe's hand and led her into their bedroom and closed the door. Chloe looked interested – her mind went right to sex. Until she saw Beca's face. They sat down together on the love seat – close – but at an angle where they could see the others faces. "Beca, what's wrong?" Chloe asked. "What's going on?"
"It's probably nothing," Beca said, running her tongue through her mouth. It was dry from nerves. She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. "I had my appointment with Stacie today."
"You never tell me – "
"Anything," Beca finished with a sigh. "I know. I'm trying right now." Chloe stopped and nodded, waiting as patiently as she could. "She found a lump under my left arm – in the breast tissue. It's probably nothing. But it's not a cyst – so I have to go through the next steps to make sure it's benign."
To her credit, Chloe did not do any of the things Beca had expected – she did not cry, she did not start asking dozens of questions, and she did not throw herself at her wife. She took a deep breath and smiled bravely, taking Beca's hand in hers and squeezing it gently. "It's going to be fine."
Beca nodded; wanting to believe it. "What's next?" Beca explained what Stacie had told her – and told Chloe that the ultrasound was scheduled for the next day – the biopsy for the end of the week.
"So soon?"
Beca shrugged. "I think Stacie pulled some strings so we wouldn't have to worry for too long."
"I'm coming with you," Chloe informed her.
"Chloe," Beca started to argue –
"I'm not fighting you, Rebecca Anne Mitchell. I am coming – end of story." Beca nodded, knowing when Chloe had reached her breaking point.
That night, neither one of them slept soundly – despite the pill Stacie had given to Beca. She lay, curled against Chloe, worrying about what might be. Chloe held her just a bit tighter than usual. The next day was fairly easy as far as procedure – the ultrasound was a simple, straight-forward test. The woman doing the imaging never spoke – never made a face – she either didn't know what she was looking at – or as Beca suspected – wasn't allowed to divulge anything. She was probably great at poker.
Thursday evening, they received the call from the surgeon's office confirming the procedure for the next morning. Stacie called a few minutes later – as Beca's primary doctor, she had also been informed. "I'll meet you at the hospital tomorrow morning at 5:30," Stacie told them. Beca was holding her phone between them on speaker.
"You don't have to do that, Stacie. I know you have other patients to see – "
"Tomorrow is the day I make rounds at the hospital anyway," Stacie told her. "I'll be there." She asked them if they had any other questions. Chloe had a few that she was able to answer easily – Beca didn't have anything. Once they said goodbye to her, they turned to look at one another. Well, Chloe looked at Beca while the brunette studied the intricate pattern of their bedspread.
"We need to call Aubrey," Beca said regretfully, not looking up. "We need someone to stay with Dahlia – to take her to school and pick her up."
"I already took care of it," Chloe assured her, her hands rising to rub the other woman's shoulders. "But Beca, we need to talk to her. She's going to know something is wrong. If she doesn't already."
Dahlia was in her bedroom, playing with the dollhouse that had been a gift from the Swanson family. She was sitting on the carpet, arranging the dolls inside the various rooms. Beca sat next to her, cross-legged, observing the process. "What are your dolls up to?" She asked.
"The mommy doll is making dinner," she said, indicating the doll standing in the kitchen. "The other mommy doll is working." That doll was in the office looking room – sitting at a desk. Aubrey had gone to the trouble of purchasing two families for the house so that – if Dahlia chose – there would be two mommies. That was – not surprisingly – exactly what the little girl chose.
"What are the little girls doing?"
"Playing in the backyard," she answered, pretend-walking one of the dolls to the back of the doll house and depositing her on the carpet with the other two dolls.
"They all seem busy."
"Uh-huh," Dahlia murmured with a nod. She looked up to see Chloe still standing in the doorway. She looked confused. "Is it bedtime already?"
"No," Chloe said with a shake of her head and her best attempt at a smile.
"We just want to talk to you about something," Beca said. "Can we go sit together for a few minutes?" They took her over to the bed and sat with her.
"Mama and I need to talk to you about something important," Chloe said. Dahlia looked terrified - her eyes darting between Chloe and Beca. Both women could see what she was doing - thinking that she had done something wrong - that somehow, something was her fault.
Beca didn't want to tell her - but she wanted to put her out of her misery as soon as possible. "Love, I have to go to the doctor tomorrow for a test," she finally said. They had already decided to leave out the word "surgery." They could barely say that one to each other.
"What's wrong?"
"Probably nothing," Beca assured her. "But my doctor just wants to make sure. She found something that she wants to check on. So Mommy and I are going to be gone when you wake up tomorrow. Aubrey will be here with you and she'll take you to school - and we'll be home by dinner time at the latest."
"Can I go with you?"
"No," Beca said softly. "Mommy can't even go in the room with me - she's just going to sit in the waiting room. It will be boring for her - and it would be even more boring for you."
"I'll be good," Dahlia offered.
Beca smiled and wrapped her arms around the child. "You are always good - my love. But trust me, you'll be better off staying at home. That's what I need you to do, okay? I need you to stay home and be good for Aunt Aubrey. Can you do that for me?" Dahlia nodded. The three girls in Georgia knew nothing about the procedure – neither mother wanted to worry them about something that might turn out to be nothing.
The entire weekend was a blur for Beca. She was groggy from the drugs and – despite her insistence that she was fine – allowed Chloe to take her directly to bed when they got home on Friday. She was sore on Saturday, but otherwise felt okay. She and Chloe took Dahlia to the park and ran errands. On Sunday the Swansons invited them to dinner and although Beca didn't want to sit in a room while her best friends looked at her with pity, she agreed for Chloe's sake.
On Monday afternoon, they discovered that the biopsy results were in - and it probably wasn't good. Negative results were announced over the phone, so the fact that they'd been asked to come into the office of the oncologist Stacie had found for them was not a good sign. In a feeling of desperation and fear, Beca had actually reached out to Stacie of her own accord and asked her to come - she would understand more of what the strange doctors had to tell them. Stacie agreed immediately, cancelling her appointments for the day and picking up both women at ten in the morning.
"The biopsy results came back in last night," the doctor told them. Her name was Nadia Patil and she was one of the highest recommended oncologists in the state. Beca knew Stacie had pulled major strings to get her to take the case. "Your PCP was right in worrying that the cells had spread. There are cancer cells in your lymph nodes, along with the lump in your breast. There was also a second lump just behind it. Those factors put your cancer at a Stage 3C," the doctor said. "It just means that it's spread beyond the breast - the C means that it's invaded important lymph nodes. The good news is that it is operable and very treatable."
"What kind of operation?" Chloe asked in a voice begetting her fear. Beca leaned against the arm of her chair, tilting her head to watch the doctor. The woman was uncomfortable. Good. Beca was pretty damn uncomfortable herself.
"I would recommend a double modified-radical mastectomy."
"Seriously?" Beca asked, looking between Stacie and the other doctor. Her eyes turned back to Stacie. "Is that really necessary - the tumor was like the size of a marble - and it was removed during the biopsy. How does that translate to losing both my breasts? And what the hell does modified-radical mean?"
"There were two tumors," Stacie reminded her. "And there were cancer cells outside the tumor, Bec," she said softly. She nodded. "It's really not my area of specialty - but I did some research, and I know that you can't tread lightly when breast cancer is presenting at this level." Her hand snaked out to grasp Beca's.
"A modified-radical mastectomy is when the surgeon goes in and takes out not only the breast tissue, but also affect chest tissue and lymph nodes. As Dr. Conrad said, we really do need to be aggressive - we need to begin treatments as soon as possible - which means the surgery needs to be scheduled as soon as possible," Dr. Patil explained.
"We need time," Beca said. "We have four daughters - how are we supposed to explain this to them? What are we going to tell them?" She closed her eyes. "Oh, my god – three of them are biologically mine. Are they at risk for this?"
"Dr. Conrad ran the genetic tests associated with breast cancer – you don't have any of the genes. So your daughters shouldn't have any more risk factors for cancer than any other girls their ages." That, at least, was something for her to worry a little less about. Beca felt that she could breathe again – at least a bit.
It was fortunate Stacie had driven them – because they were both checked out for the next several hours. Chloe's eyes were bloodshot from too much crying. Beca had really zoned out for most of the day, leaving her unable to do much but sit on the sofa or lie in bed. But they had to pull it together - Aubrey was bringing Dahlia home - and then they had to make plans to break the news to all four girls. Stacie had remained with them for a long time but eventually left to give them privacy, reminding them to call her if they had questions or just wanted to talk about concerns.
Aubrey and Jesse both brought Dahlia home, with a new toy and several new books. Beca and Chloe looked at them attentively and hugged her. When Beca hugged her youngest daughter, she also kissed her forehead. "Take them upstairs, love," she suggested. "I'll be up in a little bit and we can start reading one, okay?"
Dahlia agreed with a grin and ran up the stairs. "Careful," Beca called after her. The tiny feet slowed. The brunette stood at the bottom of the stairs until she heard Dahlia's door closed. When she turned back around, she faced the three adults staring at her.
"I guess the results are pretty obvious," Beca said, nodding as she walked back into the living room. She sat in her favorite spot on the sofa - the left hand corner. She curled into it, dragging a pillow into her lap. Chloe sat next to her, eyes filling again with tears. Aubrey, looking very green, sat on the coffee table in front of them and Jesse perched next to her.
"Posen, if you are going to puke, you need to move a bit further away than that," Beca warned her.
"I'm fine," Aubrey promised. "What did the doctor say?"
Chloe shuddered and sobbed. Beca squeezed her hand and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "It's not great," she said judiciously. "But it's not as bad as it could be. It's breast cancer - like Stacie was worried it might be. It's Stage 3C - which means it's moved into breast tissue beyond the two lumps that were found - and into my lymph nodes." She paused, taking a deep breath. "We're told that the good news is that it's operable - some breast cancer isn't operable at this stage - and none are operable at stage 4."
"Operable?" Jesse asked, his voice husky - he was trying to remain calm for his wife and best friend - but he was finding it difficult. "I thought you had the lumps removed?"
Beca nodded. "Yeah - no more cleavage for me," she said, trying to make it a joke - but failing miserably in the delivery. "Doctor-ordered double mastectomy," she clarified.
"That seems so severe," Aubrey said. "Can you get a second opinion?"
Beca nodded again. "Yeah - we can. But the doctor said it's not a good idea to wait - and she's really well respected in her field. Stacie did some research that backs up what she's told us. I don't want to risk waiting - if it moves into other organs, more lymph nodes, or into the bone, I'm screwed."
"What can we do?" Aubrey asked.
Beca leaned forward, running her hands through her hair and grasping it tightly at the roots before releasing it and smoothing it again. "We don't really know much yet," she said. "We are going to need someone to stay with Dahlia - I'll be in the hospital for a minimum of four days."
They talked briefly about details – the ones they knew at least – but it did little good. Chloe was inconsolable, which meant they couldn't make any actual decisions because they didn't really have her input. Beca gave up trying to deal with Chloe and instead insisted she take a sleeping pill. Once she was out, the brunette made travel plans to Georgia, booking tickets to leave on Thursday and return on Sunday. She took a deep breath and called her dad. He cried – but he recovered quickly, telling her that he would do anything to help. She thanked him and asked him to keep it between him and Sheila until she was able to travel to Georgia herself to tell the girls. He agreed.
It was early Thursday afternoon and the Bellas' house was empty except for the Beale-Mitchell family. Emily had taken the other girls to her house for a cookout (and Alexis had convinced Camille to deem it mandatory) - giving Beca and Chloe privacy. The two women sat on one of the sofas, Dahlia between them. Poppy, Vera, and Bella sat on the other.
The tension had been thick since they'd arrived that morning. Their mothers were not known for impromptu trips across the country – they were usually too busy for that. It was Poppy who finally spoke and broke the silence. "Brunch was really nice," Poppy said. "But I don't think you flew all the way here to buy us a meal."
Beca smiled and shook her head. "No, no we didn't. We needed to talk to you - and wanted to do it in person." She took a deep breath. "Early last week - I had a doctor's appointment and Aunt Stacie found a lump in my left breast. Well, under my arm - but still breast tissue. I went through some precautionary testing." The three teens were a range of emotions - Poppy crestfallen, Bella angry, and Vera offering a look that might have been confusion or denial. Dahlia was trembling - but she was holding back her tears.
"Unfortunately," Beca continued, "we received the final test results on Tuesday - and the cells are cancerous. But it is treatable," she told them firmly. "I don't want you to worry-"
"Mama!" Bella's voice was angry. It made all of them turn to look at her. She stood and crossed the space, kneeling in front of Beca. "You are not allowed to tell us not to worry – that's ridiculous. Stop thinking about everyone else – and take care of yourself. We need you."
Beca breathed in through her nose and turned away as she pinched her eyes closed, mustering all of her faculties not to cry. Chloe was not even trying – she was a mess for the twentieth time since the ordeal had begun. Beca turned back to Bella and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Thank you, love," she said softly. Bella grabbed onto her and held tightly. "It's going to be okay," Beca told her softly, rubbing her back.
"I know." Chloe and Poppy had broken down completely and Dahlia curled into Beca's side, trying to make herself as small as possible. Vera walked away – disappearing up the stairs and into one of the bathrooms. When she reappeared, her face was splotchy and her eyes were rimmed in red – but no one had seen her cry.
"So what do you do now?" Poppy asked, once they had all stopped crying and gathered again in the living room.
Beca looked at Chloe, who nodded sadly. "Unfortunately, the cancer is at Stage 3C – which means that it's spread beyond the two lumps they found. So I have to have a double mastectomy so the doctor can try to get rid of as many cancer cells as possible."
"What is that?" Dahlia asked quietly. She didn't like the looks that the older girls were giving Beca – it couldn't a good thing. Beca looked at her, studying her expression. She was not old enough for this – but they didn't have much choice.
"It's a surgery – where the doctor takes away my breasts – because they have bad stuff in them."
"Both of them?"
"Yeah," Beca said with a nod, crinkling her nose. "But it's okay – because it will help get rid of the cancer – the bad stuff. And I don't really need them much anymore." Dahlia didn't understand what she meant – but Chloe and the older girls did. Chloe's eyes began to water again as she realized what Beca was referring to; all three of their biological daughters had been breastfed.
"Will it hurt?"
"I will be sleeping the whole time," Beca promised. "I might be sore after – but I'll be okay."
The rest of their trip was bittersweet. They were happy to be together – but the atmosphere was tense. Beca was pretty sure they hadn't made it an hour without at least one of the girls – or Chloe – breaking into tears. Bella tried to be quiet when it happened – tears streamed silently. Vera worked hard at it but wasn't as successful; she usually just left the room or walked away. Chloe and Poppy couldn't help it – they were loud criers. Dahlia simply clung to Beca every chance she had.
On Saturday night, Chloe and Beca went to spend the evening with Emily and Benji. Dahlia and Vera – and Emily's children – were having a pizza and movie night with Warren and Sheila. The mothers told the twins to have fun – to go out – to do something. Poppy tried – she dressed up and went to a party at the Treble House with Aria. Bella found it inconceivable, which was why she was curled up in her bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock sounded at her door. It opened to reveal Alexis, not at all dressed for the party.
"What are you doing here?" Bella asked, her voice non-committal.
"I came to ask you the same thing," Alexis responded, carefully plopping beside Bella on the bed. She looked up, her green eyes peering. "You know, there are far more interesting things to stare at if you're committed to continuing this despondency thing."
"Please leave me alone," Bella responded tightly.
Alexis paused, seeming to consider it. "No," she said decisively. "What's going on, Bells? I know your moms are in town – Professor Applebaum told me. Is everything okay?"
"Not really," Bella answered, tears finding their way into her voice. Alexis rolled to her side when they came, studying Bella carefully.
"Oh, sweetie. I'm so sorry. Whatever is – "
"I can't talk about it," she said quickly, her eyes closing against the tears and the questions alike.
"That's okay," Alexis assured her. She lay back again, her hand snaking over carefully to take Bella's. "It's okay," she repeated soothingly. She hid her surprise well when Bella's tears erupted into sobs and she rolled over, curling into Alexis. The older girl moved a bit to hold her and whispered whatever assurances she could think of. Mostly, she remained solid and silent, just being there.
When Bella woke the next morning, she was alone. But there was a note on her nightstand, anchored by her cell phone.
Bells, I know you – and I know that waking up with me still here is going to freak you out. So I'm heading back to my own room – but whatever is wrong – you can tell me if you want to. Regardless, I am here if you need me. Always. Alexis. Bella's hands shook as she folded the note and tucked it inside her favorite copy of Anne of Green Gables. She showered and prepared for the day before dragging her twin out of bed. They were meeting their mothers for breakfast before their flight.
Bella sat between Beca and Vera at the table, her fork making intricate designs in the syrup that was trying to smother her French Toast. Beca leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I need you to eat at least half of that," she said softly. It was a remnant of when they had been young – only Poppy had been a good eater. The other two always had to be cajoled with "one more bite" and "please try a little bit more" and "I need you to take one more spoonful."
Bella's stomach recoiled as she used the side of her fork to break off a piece of the sweet breakfast food. She shook her head slightly and set her fork down. As soon as the waiter returned, Bella found herself faced with a small plate of dry toast instead. She broke the bread into pieces, nibbling at it obediently – if only so Beca would stop watching her.
Poppy eventually broke through the banal chitchat after she finished her own omelet.
"We want to come home – when you have your surgery."
"It's not necessary, love," Beca told her.
"Mama – "
"No," Beca answered firmly. "I won't be in the hospital for more than four days – and Aunt Aubrey is already threatening to take care of me when I get home. So don't worry, I'm sure I won't be alone for even five seconds."
"What about after the surgery?" Vera asked.
"I'll have to do a few chemotherapy treatments – but hopefully it will just be for a few weeks. I will be fine." Beca's words sounded so self-assured that she almost convinced herself.
Disclaimer - of course, I am not a doctor, so most of the medical stuff is researched as best as I can - but is not perfect. I call artistic license with that.
Well, I'm sorry about that. It was always coming - it's the first of two major complications in the story. Hope you enjoyed reading (if not the topic). Please let me know what you think!
Thank you so much to all who read - and an extra special thanks to those who are taking the time to review. Your words mean so much! I had a really stressful day - and it was extra rewarding to come home to see the reviews.