GO ON A EUROPEAN SHOPPING EXCURSION

Go To A European Medical Clinic


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Whereas on the way to Bergen the car was filled with strained conversation and feigned normalcy, neither of us bother to make small talk on the way home. Other than the music coming through the speakers, it's rather quiet in the car. We might have gone to bed with hopes and dreams of a relationship, but in the light of day things are real. Too real.

Dare I tell her the truth?

I don't miss the fact that Lisa stares straight ahead. The way her hands are tight around the wheel of the BMW. The way that every few minutes her jaw clenches. Her calm silence makes my discomfort grow. She's done playing games. Maybe I am too. I stopped trying to fake a smile three hours ago. Stopped pretending as if nothing is weird two hours ago. Five hours in a car with her is too much. I can't anymore. Mentally, emotionally, physically, I'm exhausted.

I need to leave, or tell her the truth.

When I sent Nayeon a text telling her that we would leave for Sweden as planned, she'd typed one simple thing, Tell her about the cancer, Hope.

My irrational, crazy cousin wants me to be rational.

It's drizzling again. I watch the drops hit the window, leaving trails down the glass. The dreary mood mirrors my misery. Maybe there's a little part of me that does want to admit all to her. Lisa wouldn't abandon me. She'd be disgustingly supportive and loyal. And the weak part of me is desperate for her strength. Her support.

"Do you mind if we stop at my mother's home?"

I stiffen, jerked from my thoughts. Shit. She wants me to meet her mother, now of all times? What the hell does that mean? "What? Why?"

Hearing the panic in my tone, she slides me a knowing, wry glance. "I need to return her car."

Talk about jumping to conclusions. She doesn't want to introduce me to her mom, she just wants to return her mom car. I clear my throat. Good. That's a good thing. So why does it hurt? "Oh…sure. That's fine."

We're driving through a neighborhood of white homes much like the cottage where Lisa lives. But these are larger. Slightly newer. They scream perfect little family. Wealthy little family. I know instinctively this is where Lisa grew up.

"You don't mind if we take the motorcycle home if it stops raining, do you?"

My relief is immediate. I'd prefer the motorcycle. Taking in a deep breath, I smooth my hands down my jeans. A motorcycle means not having to worry about making small talk. "No. Not at all."

She parks the car in a driveway and cuts the engine. I have a moment to take in a deep breath, calm my racing heart as she pushes open her door. Before she reaches my side, I'm standing. I can see the confusion in her gaze. She's always opened the door for me. I give her an innocent smile, hoping she'll buy it. I don't want her to be nice to me. I don't want her to be that charming gentlewoman. It will only make this more difficult.

When we walk up to a large white house on a hillside, surrounded by bright pink and purple rhododendrons, she startles me by taking my hand. So, she hasn't given up on me after all. My fingers are cold and her hand is so damn warm. That heat races through me and centers in my belly. I barely notice the chill drizzle. My mind might be rebuilding that emotional wall but my body is still open for business.

"Is this where you grew up?" I ask, before I think better of it. I shouldn't ask, I shouldn't care. Asking says I'm interested. Yet, at the same time, the silence has become awkward and obvious. I don't want things to be weird in front of her mom.

"We moved here when I was fifteen and my parents got a divorce. Father would have hated this house." She gives me a humorless smile. "Too small."

It's way bigger than our house in Florida, which says a lot about her dad. We move up the front stoop. There are potted plants everywhere, adding a brightness to the décor. I already like her mom and I haven't even met her. Too bad I'll never really know her. Lisa opens the door and calls out something in Norwegian that's too quick and complicated for me to even try and understand.

The house smells like flowers and vanilla. We move into a large, open living room. A white couch faces a brick fireplace and open windows look out into the front garden. White curtains flutter on the cool breeze. It's homey and chic all at once.

"Lisa!"

I barely have enough time to take in the older woman's blonde hair and slim body before she throws her arms around her daughter. Lisa's mom, like her house, is chic. She wears a long, white sweater and expensive jeans on her lean frame. This woman might be loving and kind, but I have a feeling she's actually the stronger of Lisa's parents. She'd have to be to put up with Lisa dad.

Lisa says something in Norwegian, and her mom laughs that truly delighted sound only a mother makes when she's thrilled to see her kid, and finds everything Lisa does perfection. I can't help myself and smile. Her mother is where she gets her goodness.

All of my ease disappears when I hear Lisa say my name within a jumble of Scandinavian words. She's talking about me. Her mother releases her and turns my way. I'm trying to prepare myself when her gaze meets mine. Recognition is immediate. She's the doctor from the clinic where I had my blood drawn a couple days ago. The woman knows I have cancer.

For a brief, blessed moment there's only mild curiosity in her blue eyes. Lisa's eyes, I realize. She gets them from her mom. But just when I'm hoping she doesn't recognize me, realization dawns, clear and sudden. My heart palpitates. My palms grow damp, the entire world pauses. I don't miss the bemused glance she slides Lisa, who is clueless and speaking to her mom about our trip to Bergen.

Teens talk openly about relationships here, Wendy had warned me only yesterday. Lisa's mom knows we stayed overnight together and she doesn't care. There's no shame. But realizing her mother knows we slept together in that cottage is the least of my worries. Will she call me out? Will she demand answers?

"It's lovely to meet you." My anxiety eases slightly. But only slightly. She's a doctor. She's a professional. She won't tell Lisa…I hope. At least not until I'm long gone, or I've told Lisa myself. She tears her gaze from me and focuses on Lisa. "It's still drizzling, do you have time for coffee or tea?"

"Of course."

Lisa can't very well say no when she's let Lisa borrow the car. But I'm terrified to stay. How had I not noticed the woman's last name on her tag at the clinic and put two and two together? I was so damn eager to escape and get away from anything doctor related, I'd left as soon as possible. I take in a deep breath and settle on the sofa. I can do this. I'm good at pretending everything is okay. I've had years of practice.

"Lisa, do you mind getting the refreshments?" her mother asks. "That way Jennie and I can talk."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

All feeling has left my body. I stiffen, my hands clasped tightly on my lap. I feel suddenly off balance. Dizzy. Nervous as hell. She's going to confront me. I'm good at lying, pretending. I'm not so good with confrontation.

Lisa gaze jumps to her mom. Now she's suspicious. Maybe she hears something in her voice, notices my paleness, or maybe she can just sense the tension. "Yeah. Okay."

With one last glance my way Lisa heads toward the kitchen. Her mom waits by the fireplace. Moments later, through the buzzing in my ears, I can hear the clank of dishes as Lisa makes our tea. Then it's painfully quiet. Her mom is watching me. I know what's coming. She starts forward, her steps slow and hesitant.

I surge to my feet and head to the large picture window, my heart hammering madly. On the window seat are a variety of photos. One is of Lisa and her sister when they were young. Little kids with huge smiles. Seeing the happiness upon their faces tugs at my heart, makes my chest feel tight with emotions I don't want to contemplate. "You have a lovely home."

She pauses next to me. The vanilla scent that permeates the house is coming from her. She smells exactly like a mother should, warm and comforting. But she's not my mother, and her first priority is her daughter. "That's my other daughter, Lisa's sister Tzuyu."

She picks up the frame in front of me and stares hard as if trying to remember the past, understand what happened. How their lives have come to be this way. It's the same shell-shocked expression my mom gets at times. I want to reach out, tell her that it's okay. But I can't, because it's not.

"When she died, it nearly killed Lisa."

I swallow hard. Maybe I'm paranoid, but there seems to be a hidden message in that statement. She doesn't mean to be cruel, and is probably just trying to protect her daughter, but I grow instantly wary. Her sister's death nearly destroyed Lisa. She doesn't need another traumatic event. She doesn't need me and my drama.

Her mom replaces the photo frame and meets my gaze. "Does she know?"

It's hard to look at her when her eyes are so much like Lisa's. I shake my head, feeling miserable, guilty. I'm a liar. A cheat. I'm pretending to be someone I'm not. If it didn't bother me before, it does now. "Will you tell?"

"No." She crosses her arms over her chest in a protective manner. She looks sad, exhausted. "I wouldn't even if I could. That's our business, between doctor and patient."

I nod, grateful, yet feeling ashamed at the same time. She sees me only as the person who is lying to her daughter, the person who might break Lisa heart. Three weeks, I want to shout at her mom. We weren't supposed to have feelings after only three weeks. It's not fair. It's not my fault. Yet, deep down, I know it is. It's my fault for going to Norway with Lisa. My fault for sleeping with her daughter more than once. My fault for leading Lisa on.

"Please," she says. "Don't let this go on without her knowing."

I'm tired of the guilt. The shame. Damn it all, I was only trying to protect him. Always. I have to force myself not to sound combative. "Dr. Manoban, I'm leaving soon. I didn't mean…I wasn't expecting this."

She nods like she understands. And maybe she does. But I see the worry, the unease in her kind, blue eyes. She doesn't want her daughter to get hurt. I don't either, this is why I'm leaving. Why I've lied. Why don't any of them understand?

"It was supposed to be a fling," I try one more time.

She sighs, and I can see the overly protective mother in her warring with the compassionate doctor. With a trembling hand she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "She will stand by you…she won't abandon you if you tell her the truth."

She knows Lisa better than anyone. It's taken a lot for her to say it. But she didn't need to tell me. I know Lisa well enough to know she would stay with me. I don't need her reassurance. Lisa's got her studies, we live an ocean away, we just met three weeks ago. It would be insane for her to give up her life for a woman she just met. "That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want her to go through that kind of heartache again. I don't want to hurt her."

She hesitates for a moment. Guilt, empathy, worry, relief, all run across her face at once. "Do you love her?"

Talk about being blunt. A flush burns my cheeks. The question makes me panic. My chest grows tight. That flight response is in full run mode. But I can't deny that underneath it all…there's a warmth that tiptoes through my body. Birds singing. Rainbows. Hearts. It's so close to the surface, if only I'd allow it. Yes, I want to say, yes, I love Lisa. How can I not? "I…I just met her."

She smiles softly, as if she knows without me saying the words. "Part of me thinks that Lisa deserves to know about your cancer so she can decide herself. The other part doesn't want her to know. Wants to protect her."

I feel no anger. I understand. "I don't want to hurt her. If I break things off, she'll be angry, but at least she won't have to deal with my…with me. If she knows the truth…"

Tears fill her blue eyes. "She'll stand by you and be crushed…again."

It's a helpless situation. I know it and she does as well. I don't realize I'm crying until she steps forward and cups the sides of my face, swiping away the tears with her thumbs. I take in a deep shuddering breath as she wraps her arm around my shoulders.

"You could live for years."

Or I could die next month. We both know the longer Lisa and I stay together, the harder it will be for Lisa.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," I repeat in a whisper. "I swear."

She nods. "I know."

And the look in her gaze tells me she understands the turmoil I'm going through. But she's still Lisa's mother, and I've been lying to her daughter by omission. Trying to find the right words, is near to impossible. "What do I do?"

She shakes her head as she leads me back toward the couch. "I can't tell you that. But what I can tell you is that if she's brought you here to meet me, it's getting serious."

The panic increases. In other words…I need to make a choice and fast. "No. She just needed to return your car…"

She rests her hand on mine, stopping me. "Lisa has never brought a woman here. Whatever you're going to do, you need to do it soon."

"Mor," Lisa calls out from the kitchen. "Where's the tea?"

She smiles and stands. "I'll be there in a minute." As she walks by me, she rests her hand on my shoulder. "If you need anything while you're here, if you don't feel well, you call me."

I nod and give her a tight smile. There's nothing I wish to do more than run. Escape and never come back. It's only as she leaves that I'm finally able to breathe with some normalcy. I sink back into the plush couch, taking in the many photographs. There isn't one of Lisa's father, but there are plenty of Lisa with her sister. I focus on a photo of Lisa with her arm around her sister, Tzuyu. Lisa's probably eight. She was adorable even then. This family has known so much grief. I can't add to it. I won't be that selfish.

I know what I have to do. I pull out my phone.

I need you. I'm in Stavanger. Are you still in Europe?

I only have to wait a few seconds before I feel the buzz of an incoming text.

I can be there tomorrow.

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"Faen."

Lisa's sudden exclamation stirs me from sleep. My brain is muddled, and it takes a moment for me to realize she's cursing in Norwegian. I've heard that exclamation enough from Max to know what it is. "What's wrong?"

Pain ripples down my esophagus as I speak. It's like I'm swallowing broken glass. Instinctively, my hand goes to my throat. Something is wrong. I feel sweaty. Fever. My head feels murky, my body aches. It's something I've had before and I know it well. Shit. I'm sick.

Lisa has her phone in hand and moves off the bed, heading to her dresser. "Jisoo. She took some pills. She was in the hospital apparently."

Shock gives me a moment of clarity, and I forget how crappy I feel. "My god."

"She won't say if it was accidental or on purpose." Lisa grabs jeans and a t-shirt. She's flustered; I've never seen her so uneasy. "I'm so sorry, but I need to go see her. Are you okay here?"

"Of course." I glance at my phone. 8 a.m. What can I say? I'm feeling rather stunned by it all. An illogical, selfish part of me wonders…if we stayed together, would she always pick her over me? She heads into the bathroom and brushes her teeth. This thought is immediately followed by guilt. We are just a summer fling, while Jisoo will be in Lisa life forever. "Yeah. I'm fine. Of course you have to go."

She grabs her wallet from the dresser. "I'll be back soon."

Keys in hand, she gives me a quick kiss on the lips, and then she's gone. I hear her murmuring something downstairs but barely care. Now that she has left, the full force of my illness hits me. The front door shuts. Lisa's left the house. Part of me feels slightly abandoned, but most of me is glad she's gone because I feel like shit, and I sure as hell don't want her to see me ill.

I'm not fine.

I have a fever, I can feel it burning from the inside out. My body is rebelling. I should have known it would punish me for having fun. Or maybe this is my punishment for lying to Lisa. I grope for my phone on the bedside table and text Nayeon.

Can you come up here please?

I shouldn't have stayed out in the rain at that cottage. Shouldn't have visited so many public places. Shouldn't have stayed up so many late nights. I drop my phone on the bed and close my eyes, waiting. A few moments later I'm vaguely aware of the door opening.

"Hope?"

"Hmm?"

She settles on the bed next to me and presses her hand to my head. "You have a fever. I'm going to call your mom."

Somehow I find superhuman strength and grab her wrist. "No. Don't you dare. It's fine. Just need some meds and I.V."

Her eyes are wide with worry. "Shit."

She's scared. Poor thing. She's never had to deal with this. I feel guilty for being sick, guiltier still for manipulating her. "Call my mom and I'll have to go home. You'll be alone."

She sighs, hesitating. I know I'm not being fair. But sometimes you have to fight dirty to get what you want. If I'm going to leave, I'm going to leave on my own terms. I'm not going to have my mom rushing here on a wave of parental concern, confusing and shocking Lisa. I don't want to see the pity in her gaze. Not ever. I don't want Lisa to look at me the same way she looks at Jisoo.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, taking her hand in mine. Every word spoken, every swallow hurts. "Please. Just take me to the clinic and then we'll decide."

She's already showered and dressed. I can see the warring within her gaze. She knows the responsible thing to do is to call my mom, but she also wants to stay in Europe. "Okay. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"It will be fine." I sit up and grab my sweatshirt. My head pounds with the movement and I have to bite back my groan. "I just need some antibiotics, or steroids. And if the clinic says to, I swear I'll call my mom."

She nods reluctantly as she helps me into my jeans. "You've gained weight."

I release a harsh laugh as I tug on my tennis shoes. Any other woman would be horrified to hear that. "I have. That's good…right?"

She nods encouragingly. "I thought it meant…"

I don't miss the flush of her face. She thought I was getting better. I move to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Maybe I did too…deep down. There's a brief moment of panic when I wonder if this sickness is a precursor of something worse. Of more to come. Of the end. A brief moment that passes quickly as I take charge. I've been worse. Way worse. In fact, really it's not that bad compared to what I've gone through. I leave the bathroom and grab my phone and wallet.

Nayeon wraps her arm around my waist and helps me down the steps. "Did you tell Lisa?"

Each step makes my head pound; my temples feel as if they're going to explode. "No."

"Hope."

"I can't." We're halfway down the steps. I can hear Wendy and Max in the kitchen, laughing together murmuring sweet words. I'm so envious of their relationship it hurts. "We leave in two days. There's no reason to tell her."

Her arm tightens. "Wendy said Lisa hasn't had a serious girlfriend in a long time. She's always been kind, but aloof toward the women she dates. Wendy said—"

"Stop," I snap, annoyed that she's taken Lisa side. Or maybe I'm annoyed that she's questioning my decisions, when she followed a man to France she just met. She doesn't understand the pain Lisa has gone through, the fact that her mother wants me out of her daughter's life. "A relationship won't work. Even if I wasn't sick."

She looks hurt as she presses her lips into a firm line. We're almost to the bottom of the stairs. I should feel guilty about snapping at her, but my head throbs too much to care. I don't want to talk about this right now. Maybe not ever.

"Ugh, I can't believe her," Wendy says, her accent thicker than normal. She paces the kitchen in all of her French fury. "Running off to her. You know she was probably faking it. Or worse, she did it on purpose. Why does Lisa have such a soft spot for her?"

So they aren't whispering words of love, they're complaining about Jisoo. My assumption that Lisa runs to Jisoo whenever she makes her siren's call is correct. And Wendy and Max seem to like her about as much as I do. But surely the situation is different; Lisa couldn't say no. Jisoo's tried to kill herself, for god's sake.

Still, I can't deny that Wendy's comment runs through my mind over and over.

Why does Lisa have such a soft spot for her?

If I was staying, I'd be worried about always coming second. If we were actually dating, I might be annoyed that there was another woman. But I'm not staying. We're not dating. I'm leaving.

"Wendy," Max warns as he spots us. He's leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. He's so healthy and strong that I'm envious. "Morning, Ladies."

Wendy spins around to face us, a forced smile lifting her lips. "Good morning, how…" It only takes a second for her to realize something is wrong. Her eyes narrow, her gaze focuses on me. I must look like hell. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Jennie just isn't feeling well." Nayeon's smile looks as fake as Wendy's did moments ago. "Going to take her to the clinic."

"Oh. Alright." I know Wendy cares. But she's also suspicious. Does she think I'm pulling a Jisoo and trying to get attention? She's protective of Lisa, and if I didn't feel like shit, I'd appreciate her loyalty. "Should I—"

"No," I snap as I reach into the refrigerator for a water bottle. "Don't call Lisa. I just need some fluids, antibiotics. Lisa has enough to deal with. Please, don't."

She hesitates, glances at Max who is already on the phone calling for a taxi, and I can tell she doesn't like keeping this from Lisa. I drink my water but every swallow stings. Hell, she'll probably call Lisa the moment we leave for the clinic.

Finally, she nods. "Okay."

Max hangs up the phone. "Cab will be here any minute." I don't miss the way his concerned gaze is on me. He grabs a banana and shoves it into my hand. "Eat this."

I smile my thanks. Nayeon leads me to a stool. They watch me as they speak softly. And even though they keep their voices low, their worried gazes keep coming back to me. I hate this. Hate the stares. The pity. The worry. I'm not sure how much time has gone by. It seems like only moments, but suddenly Nayeon is at my side.

"Cab is here." She slides her arm around my waist. Together, we leave the kitchen and make our way to the front stoop. The tourists are already there, strolling the cobbled streets, taking pictures. A large cruise ship dominates the dock.

"You are going to be okay, right?" Nayeon asks as we move down the cobbled road to where the cab waits below. "Shit, Jennie, I don't know how you do it."

Despite feeling completely dizzy, I straighten away from her. I can do this. I can walk on my own. "I always get better, eventually."

Until one day I won't.

"No, not that…"

She doesn't wonder how I deal with illness, but how I deal with the fact that I'm going to die soon. "I promise. I'll be fine."

We reach the cab and Nayeon helps me inside. I'm barely aware of her telling the man where to go. I'm freezing. I cuddle next to her, soaking up her warmth. She wraps her arm around me, holding me close. My lashes flutter down. I realize…I want Lisa here. I want her arm around me. Her warmth. Her strength. Her calm reassurance.

"Your mom is going to kill me."

I rest my head on her shoulder. "I'll be fine. It's happened many times before."

I should feel guilty, but I can't. I'm so damn tired of feeling guilty.

"Oh Jennie. I'm so sorry."

I know what she means. She's not sorry my trip is ruined. Not sorry that I'm sick. That she doesn't know what to do, or say. She's sorry that she's healthy and I'm dying. Sorry that while I'm rotting in a hospital she'll be living. "I know."

She murmurs something, but I am drifting…drifting… The darkness is so welcoming, so comforting. Lisa is looking down at me, her smile so pure, so gorgeous that I can't help but smile back at her.

"Don't leave." Lisa's voice whispers through my muddled mind. "Stay here, stay with me."

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"Jennie?"

Nayeon's voice reaches through the fog. I wake as the cab is pulling up alongside the clinic. I know my mom will find out in a day or two when the insurance goes through. I plan to be better by then and on my way home. Away from Lisa.

I'm helped into a wheelchair and swept inside where brilliant, fluorescent lights pound down, throbbing in time to my headache. An older woman with brown hair pulled into a tight bun is leaning over me. Nayeon is fumbling to tell her my medical history.

"Is Dr. Manoban here?" I interrupt.

The nurse nods. "Do you know her?"

"Yes. Please, if she's not busy…"

"Alright." She's all concern and business as she takes my blood pressure. "Let's get some fluids into you. I'm going to draw some blood, check your numbers, alright?"

Suddenly Lisa's mom is there, her brows drawn together in the same way that her daughter does when she's thinking. Despite the fact that she isn't sure about me, I like this lady. She seems kind. Her eyes remind me of Lisa. So blue. Must be a Norwegian thing. Her hands are cool, soft, and efficient as she touches my forehead.

"Where is my daughter?" she asks.

Nayeon flushes. "She doesn't know. She went to see her friend Jisoo."

I don't miss the way Dr. Manoban's mouth tightens. A surge of validation rushes through me. So, she doesn't appreciate Jisoo either. I knew I liked this lady. She wheels me into a room. I hear her say something about dehydration to the nurse. It's happened before, and I know once I get an I.V. I'll feel a million times better. She helps me onto a cot. I barely feel the needle as it pierces my skin. I'm so used to them by now.

"You'll be alright in no time at all." She brushes my hair back in a motherly way. "Just rest."

And so I close my eyes and I sleep.

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