She Did Have Cancer but She Couldn't Tell
It was cold. Sterile. Silent. Except for that god-awful music playing on the loudspeakers. Who the fuck thought a song about dying was the best choice to play in the waiting room of an oncologists' office?
A hand tapped on the cap of her knee and the sensation instantly had Judy's head snapping in direction of said culprit. She smiled when she saw the hand belonged to Jen. Her Jen. The only positive in her life at the moment. The only reason she hadn't completely fallen apart yet. Jen was her encouragement to keep breathing, to keep hoping. Jen needed her. Jen's boys needed her. She was needed still. Whatever the results of the scan she was about to undergo, she would still be needed and therefore would have no choice but to fight it off somehow.
Catching her brown eyes with her blue ones, Jen felt her heart merely get caught in her throat. They hadn't even been called back for the scan, she reminded herself, there was no reason to panic yet. There was still time to hold out hope that the scan would come back clean. That her Judy would have nothing to worry about. That she would not have anything to worry about.
Her hand gripped tighter on Judy's knee, squeezing it affectionately while throwing an encouraging smile her way. "It's gonna be okay, Jude. No matter what the scan says. I promise," Jen softly assured, trying her best to stay optimistic. Exactly what Judy would do. Judy needed as many positive vibes as she could get right now, she thought.
Lips curved up into a smile. Judy bobbed her head up and down, placing her own hand onto the one resting on her knee. The smile widened a small amount as she gazed into the blonde's eyes. She could see the apprehension hiding behind them and that was all it took to make her own disappear. Jen needed her. She had to be strong for Jen. Jen already lost so much and most of it—no, she corrected, it was her fault for all of it. Her husband was dead because of Judy. Her sons' were left fatherless all because of Judy, too.
Despite the thoughts swirling about, Judy retained her composure with the smile and gave a tender squeeze to Jen's hand. "Of course. Everything will be fine, Jen. I don't have cancer. This'll just confirm that. And give you peace of mind."
Jen sighed, nodding her head along. God, she hoped they were both right. She couldn't handle watching Judy suffer through cancer. Fuck no. Cancer sucked. It sucked so bad. And Judy was the complete opposite of fucking cancer. Judy was good, so unbelievably good. She was the last person who fucking deserved to have cancer. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt her breath hitch. This scan better give them the the results they both wanted was what she silently wished.
"Judy Hale?"
Hearing her name called out quickly brushed her with a knot in her stomach. It was only a scan, she tried to calm her nerves, the results probably wouldn't even be given to her until the evening or tomorrow. She pursed her lips into a smile yet again and used the arms of the chair to push herself up with.
She slowly made her way towards the technician lurking in the open doorway, a clipboard in hand, but stopped halfway. Brown eyes peered achingly back at Jen. Though her lips were smiling at her, her heart was hurting and her mind panicking. Both of them needed this damn scan to show those shadows were nothing more than shadows.
Jen felt Judy's stare and looked back, smiling through her trepidation for what results might show up at the end. She stood up, walking over to the other. Arms encircled tightly, protectively, around Judy's waist. She leaned her chin on her shoulder and drew in a breath. When she felt Judy hug her back she closed her eyes and wished they could stay like that forever. In each other's arms where no bad things happened, where no bad things were told to them.
The woman standing in the doorway loudly shuffled the papers on the clipboard she was holding. Hoping to subtly bring their attention back to what was needing to be done.
Both women nodded their heads at each other, easily taking the hint it was time to pull apart from the embrace. Judy held Jen's hands in hers after releasing her arms from her back and gave them each a comforting squeeze. "I love you. It'll work out, Jen, I'm gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be just fine. I believe it and you should too. Believing is half the battle," she murmured, letting out a faint laugh. One last squeeze was given to Jen's hands before she reluctantly let them go.
"I love you too, Jude, so much."
Jen remained in her spot as she solemnly watched the brunette follow behind the technician through the open door and out of sight. Fuck did she hope to God—if there was one—that the results came back in their favor. The last thing either of them needed on top of the shit show with Steve's fucking body being found was a goddamn cancer diagnosis.
The scan only took twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of pure hell for Judy. Pure hell for Judy Hale. Albeit the displeasure, Judy giggled at her own thoughts. Of course. Her last name was pronounced the same way hell was so it made sense the scan would be hell for her. She was a Hale after all. Hales got hell thrown at them.
While she sat on the edge of the table, ready to get the fuck out of there, the scanning technician came over to her. A somber mien on her face her brown eyes quickly noticed. That wasn't a comforting sign.
"The doctor will be calling you soon to discuss your results, Miss Hale. But I am gonna forewarn you, they don't look particularly the best."
"Is this Judy Hale I'm speaking with?"
Judy swallowed uneasily upon hearing the voice on the other end of her phone late that evening. She should have pressed ignore when she saw the Oncology Office light up on her ringing phone. Maybe if she'd done that, she could have kept herself from finding out the inevitable truth. But she fucking wanted to prove that damn radiation worker wrong. Wanted to find out that whatever she thought she saw on those scans were just a big discombobulation or something.
A breath was heard being inhaled on the other line. "Hello?" The voice spoke out after a few minutes.
"Uh, um, ah yes. Sorry. This is Judy. Um, what can I uh help you with?" She fumbled over her words and merely choked on her spit once she realized what she'd asked. God, if Jen weren't sitting right across from her at the kitchen island she'd have face-palmed herself for asking such a stupid question.
"I'm calling you from the Oncology office, Judy, about your results. You had an MRI down this morning, didn't you?"
Judy nervously laughed, throwing her free hand up in the air as if the person on the other end of the phone were able to see that. "Oh, of course, sorry I'm just a little nervous. Yes, I did. The results are good, right? No cancer or anything?"
There was a hesitation on the doctor's side. It did nothing to ease Judy's worries. She swallowed once more and tapped her fingers against the granite countertops. Not too long after a hand covered overtop and stroked soothingly against the skin on hers.
"Well, Miss Hale, I have some unfortunate news. I'm so sorry, but there's a tumor on your liver. It originated from your cervix. You have stage four cancer, I'm afraid."
By the time the call ended, Judy could barely comprehend what she was just told. But she had no time to process it with Jen's eagerly awaiting in the chair on opposite her. She forced a smile to her face and swallowed down the troubling emotions. Jen couldn't handle anymore shit news right now, she said to herself, Jen needed something to hold onto. And so did she. Maybe if she refused to believe there was cancer inside her it would eventually make it true.
"Good news, Jen, it's nothing. Those shadows were just from a faulty camera. I don't have cancer. I knew I didn't but now we know for sure."
Except she did have cancer. Stage four cancer. But she couldn't tell. She just couldn't. This was her punishment for all the suffering, all the grief she caused Jen and those sweet boys of hers. She got what she deserved and she wasn't dragging Jen into it with her.