The O.C
A Life Half Lived
A/N: Again, sorry for not updating sooner. I rarely ever get computer time, which is driving me insane. My siblings say they need it for school and I catch them on the 'Disney Princesses' site or or Losers. I feel bad, like I'm letting you down when I don't update but I write when I can and I hope you appreciate it. Thanks SO much for your reviews. They make what I'm doing seem worthwhile, even though I'd do it anyway. Happy reading! Genevra xxox
Summary: "I don't look sick. I am sick."
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with The OC. Sigh. I do however own any characters or scenarios you don't recognize. Yay!
Chapter Thirteen: Preparation
Summer sang along to the 'Bangles' C.D that was whizzing around her and Seth's state-of-the-art stereo. Eternal Flame came on and Summer screamed.
"I love this song," she smiled, as she drew a line around her pale, thinning lips with bright bed lip pencil.
"I can't believe we're listening to this crap," Seth sighed. He was lying on the bed with a pillow over his head, groaning at thirty-second intervals. "Can you turn it off please? This is torture."
"No, honey," she cooed. "Having leukemia and being pregnancy at the same time is torture."
"Ouch," he said, sitting up, the playful and jovial mood gone. "Must you be so flip?"
"Seth, I'm not going to pretend this isn't my life," she said. "It's killing me to being sitting here right now instead of curled up on my bed. My insides are aching but that's just the way my life is."
"That made no sense whatsoever," Seth sighed. "I was talking about you being so flip about the cancer."
"I know what you meant, Cohen," she said, pouting as she filled the red onto her lips. "And I told you. This is my life. I'm not going to pretend it isn't."
"Can we just have one night without maudlin and sappy moments?" Seth asked, opening one eye. He reached over and paused the C.D.
"Nope," Summer said, reaching over for her eyeliner. "This is our life now. We're happy and normal until you take offense to one of my jokes or vice versa and then we become 'maudlin and morose' as you say."
"I said 'sappy.'"
"I've heard you say morose," she shot-back. "I'm going to die, Seth. Get used to it."
"Again, Summer, must you?" he asked, cringing. He turned softer after she shot him a withering glare. "You aren't going to die."
"We have had this conversation," Summer said. "And the outcome is always the same."
"Well, if you're so sure, must you be so blasé about it?" he asked.
"I'm not blasé about dying, Cohen," she answered, putting the eyeliner back down on the dressing table her plastic surgeon father had bought her for her sixteenth birthday. "It kills me, pardon the pun. I don't want to leave you behind. I don't want to leave you alone. I don't want to leave this baby before I get to see it grow up. I don't want to leave Ryan who would kill for me, to leave Marissa who is my best friend, to leave Kirsten who loves me more than my own mother, to leave Sandy who is the rock of this family. I don't want to leave my father, who loves me more than anyone but you. I don't even want to leave Alex or to leave my stepmother. But I most of all, don't want to leave you."
"So, don't," Seth said, his eyes slightly watering up. He cast her his puppy-dog look and the tears welled up in her eyes and fell slowly, hotly down her cheek. She unsteadily walked over to him, somehow balancing her pregnant belly on her tiny and wasted frame. She came to the bed and leaned over and touched his cheek before kissing him.
"We will not have this conversation again, you hear me?" she asked. "I know you're having a hard time accepting it, and you should, but I don't want to talk about my dying with you anymore."
"That won't be a problem," Seth answered, looking up at her.
"Good," she said, weakly patting him on the head. She waddled back over to the dressing table and collapsed on the chair. "What am I going to wear?"
"I don't see why we have to have this dinner party anyway," he grumbled. "It's just going to be like all of the other Newport events. Ryan will start a fistfight. Julie's latest conquest will be modeled and revealed. Mum and Marissa will get drunk. Dad and Grandpa will probably spend the whole dinner talking about the wetlands deal. It's just going to be another Newport event."
"Ok, so. Ryan hasn't started a fight for years. The wetlands deal happened like, seven years ago. Marissa will have Lexie so she can't drink. Julie's married and your mother will be your mother," she said. "Come on, it'll be fun. Think of it as just another family dinner."
"Except that we'll be in public and there'll be other people there," Seth grumbled, hauling himself out of bed. He began buttoning the buttons on his shirt.
"That was last night," Summer sighed. Jimmy and Sandy had held a dinner party at the Lighthouse last night which they still owned and which was flourishing. It was only meant to be a small party. Sandy and Jimmy had decided to close the Lighthouse two nights before Summer went into hospital so that the family could have dinner but it had escalated and practically everyone Summer had been there to see her one last time. They'd left early, doctor's orders but tonight, the restaurant was being closed and only the closest family members and friends would be there and Summer was allowed to stay out for as long as she liked.
"Only the people who mean something to us," Summer said.
A knock came at the door and after a moment, Marissa stuck hr head around the door.
"You guys ready?" she asked.
"Are you joking?" Summer cried. "I haven't even finished my make-up. I don't even know what I'm wearing."
"I do," Marissa smiled, pulling a dry-cleaners bag out from behind her. "I'll finish your make-up and then we'll get you dressed. Seth, if you don't mind, we need some privacy."
"I'll just go find Ryan and Alexis," he said, standing up and grabbing his jacket.
"I left Alexis with our neighbors," Marissa said, putting eye shadow on Summer's sunken eyelid. "I thought this should just be our time."
"You didn't have to do that," Summer said, after Seth had left. "She's family."
"I just didn't want her to see me cry," Marissa admitted.
"You think you're going to cry?" Summer asked.
"Yes," Marissa said, as she blew across Summer's eyes to remove the excess eye shadow. She picked up the blush brush and told Summer to smile. "I think it's better for her if she stays home tonight but I'll bring her by the hospital before school so you can see her."
'Maybe one last time,' were the words left unsaid but not unheard.
"Do I get to see my dress now?" Summer asked quickly. She could see that Marissa was going to burst into tears at any moment now.
"Sure," Marissa smiled, quickly and bravely blinking back the tears. She pulled the long white dress out of the bag. Summer gasped.
"Oh my gosh, Coop!" she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "You shouldn't have."
"I got it altered for you," Marissa explained. "We took the measurements of your clothes and I took it to work."
"Oh, Coop," Summer said, a sob rising in her voice as she took in the white silk dress that was covered in a layer of chiffon and beading. The spaghetti straps had been removed and a chiffon sleeves had been added, the plunge neckline stayed the same as did the fishtail bottom but the stomach had been altered to accommodate for her grown belly. She cried a little as she ran her hands down her favourite dress, the dress based loosely on her Cotillion dress… Her wedding dress.
"The last time you wore it, you were so happy," Marissa explained. "And tonight is your night. I want you to be so happy again."
"And I will be," Summer cried. "I promise."
She clung to Marissa and they let themselves cry for a minute exactly before they stopped and bravely wiped the tears away. Marissa kissed Summer's cheek and then pulled away, wiping her nose on a tissue that she'd pulled from her bra.
"Let's get you dressed," Marissa said, finally, after fixing up her and Summer's make-up.
"Do you think it's pathetic I need help getting dressed?" Summer asked, as she slipped her top over her head.
"Nah," said Marissa. "I think it's kind of cute."
A giggle.
"You're so hilarious," Summer laughed, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"And you married a Cohen," Marissa shot-back. "What does that say about you?"
A giggle.
"I felt sorry for the poor kid?" Summer tried but then sighed. "That I'm a stickler for losers."
"Or that you're a loser yourself?"
"Hey!" Kirsten cries, entering the room to see how the girls are getting on. "I married a Cohen."
A giggle.
"Exactly," Marissa answered, not entirely sure where she was going with her argument.
"Umm, Marissa, honey," Kirsten pointed out, not entirely joking, not entirely not. "You married an Atwood and this Atwood is simply an extension of the Cohen family."
"Whatever."
Another giggle.
"Coop, I need some help getting my dress done up," Summer grumbles. She has a handful of material in her hands as she steps carefully towards her best friend.
"Don't trip on the train, Summer," her stepmother calls out helpfully. Summer doesn't even dignify her with a glare.
"Do you think it's pathetic I need help getting dressed?" Summer asks Marissa as she zips the silk and chiffon concoction up.
"Nah," Marissa answers. "It just proves that you and Cohen are so right for each other."
"How?"
"Because, you're both self-absorbed and love attention?" Marissa jokes.
"You married an Atwood," Summer shoots back. "From Chino. What does that say about you?"
"That I'm happy and in love," Marissa smiles.
"Vomit," Summer says, making the motion with her hand.
"Attractive," Marissa retorts with a giggle.
"Better than you, Chino girl."
"Nah-uh," Marissa cries. "I'm better than you, Cohen-girl."
"Great comeback," Summer says. She sighs and turns to look at her reflection in the mirror. "So, because I'm self-absorbed, how do I look?"
"You look beautiful, Summer," Marissa answers, as both girls become serious. "Absolutely stunning. You're going to knock his socks off."
"That's if he wears any."
"And how about me?" Marissa asks, twirling around.
"You look gorgeous, as always."
"Thank you," Marissa smiles. "Not as good as you though."
"Well, that's good," Summer says. "Because the bride is supposed to be the most beautiful of all."
"And you are."