Chapter 12

"How are you doing?" Hunter says out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence in the car. McCall hasn't spoken to him much in the past three weeks, and she probably won't now either. Every other time he's tried to talk about her split up with Mitch she's replied with nothing more than "fine."

He chances a peek over at her, trying to gauge her mood. She's focused on the road, driving his car, on their way to check out a new lead on their current case. She has become the designated driver, always. It's part of their new normal.

"The wedding is officially canceled," she answers, and he's so surprised that she answered at all that it barely registers what it is she said. "I canceled the reservations at the church and the reception hall a few days ago."

"You really think that's it? No chance of reconciliation?"

"Since he won't return my phone calls? Yeah, I think that's it."

"You deserve better."

"You know, Hunter, I don't know what to say to that. I deserve better what? Mitch is who I want, but I'm the one who screwed it up. So I don't really understand why I deserve better."

Her defenses are up. He doesn't blame her.

"Hold your horses here. I just meant that you deserve a call back, you at least deserve the chance to have a conversation."

She retreats again, into the same brooding silence as before. And, again, he's surprised when he hears her voice. "I just miss him, you know?"

Hunter nods in understanding, and lets silence fall on them yet again.

XXXXX

Hunter's sitting at his desk, alone, as he is more often than not lately. Also part of their new normal: Hunter performing mostly desk duty while McCall does all the heavy lifting. He may even learn to type after all these months of being the official report writer. Today, McCall happens to be in court. Yet another responsibility McCall has had to take sole responsibility of, since Hunter himself has become unpredictable and undependable.

Another report complete — typed, signed and in the file — when he feels someone hovering nearby. Looking back over his shoulder he sees Mitch standing next to McCall's desk, looking anxious, and holding a paper grocery bag.

"Hey, Rick. Is Dee Dee around?" Mitch asks when Hunter turns around from his typewriter.

"No, she's in court today."

"Oh, okay. I, uh, brought some things she had left at my house. Just, uh, a couple of cassettes, a sweater, that kind of stuff…" Mitch babbles, obviously nervous. Hunter lets him babble. "I was hoping she would would be here. Maybe we could go have lunch. And talk."

"Oh, well, you can leave it on her desk. I'll make sure she gets it."

"Sure. Yeah." Mitch sets the bag on McCall's desk, then pushes his glasses back up his nose. "How is she?"

Hunter peers over at McCall's chair, pondering how to answer that question. She's heartbroken, you SOB. And if you'd talk to her you'd know that. "She's holding up."

"Yeah," Mitch says under his breath and nods, as if he knew Hunter would say that whether it was true or not.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry about your…" Mitch continues, but pauses when he doesn't want to say the word. "How are you doing?"

"Well, I'm at work today. That means it's a good day."

"Right. Right. Well, uh, tell her I came by."

"She still has the same phone number," Hunter says and flashes a sarcastic grin.

"Right. I guess she does. Thanks," Mitch says and starts walking away.

Hunter watches him for a moment, tapping his fingers on his desk. He checks his watch, and then turns back toward Mitch. "Hey, Mitch. Can I buy you lunch?"

XXXXX

Sitting at the lunch counter at Rex's, Hunter moves his salad around on his plate. The wilted leaves, drenched in oil and vinegar, look about as appetizing as paper. Sometimes, when his mind is busy with other things, he forgets. He does things, like orders the same salad he has ordered for years, without remembering that salad, and many other foods, might as well be cardboard. The chemo seems to have eradicated his taste buds instead the cancer. The last time he ate at Rex's he managed to convince McCall to trade — his salad for her grilled-cheese sandwich and french fries — and he didn't even feel guilty about it. An occasional salad would do her good.

Mitch isn't eating all that much, either. This might be the most uncomfortable lunch in the history of lunches. Hunter had a plan when he suggested it, but now it just seems like a bad idea. They seem to have exhausted the only subject they have in common besides McCall — there is only so much football you can talk about in March.

"Dee Dee must be pretty mad at me right now," Mitch says as he finally eats the french fry that he's been swirling around in ketchup for several seconds.

"Why do you think that?"

"I've been in Chicago for a while, spending some time with family. When I got home there were a couple of messages from her on my machine." Hunter doesn't respond when Mitch pauses. "The last message from her she said she canceled all the wedding plans. I didn't mean for it to go that far. I just needed to get away for a while and think."

"How is she supposed to know that? I mean, all she knew is that you weren't talking to her."

"You probably think I overreacted."

"What I think isn't important."

"It just got to the point that I didn't know how I fit in anymore. There didn't seem to be room in her life for me. Nothing against you, I just felt like an extra."

Hunter pushes his plate away, admitting defeat to the salad, and opts to nurse his cup of tea instead. "Here's what you need to know — first off, Dee Dee goes after what she wants. If she wanted to be with me instead of you, she would be." Hunter pauses to make sure Mitch doesn't take offense to this comment. "Second, there have been men before you. She's ended the relationship every single time, because she doesn't do anything her heart isn't into. Lookit, she and I have been through a lot together. We've learned to depend on each other, because at times, that's all we had."

"Man, I get ya, and I've tried to understand it and be supportive. But I'm a selfish man. I want her to myself, and I'm starting to see that that's just never going to happen." Mitch says, taking a bite out of his burger.

"Look, the timing blows. If I didn't have cancer you would be getting married next weekend and I wouldn't be a second thought to either of you. Unfortunately, that's not how it is. But you still love her, don't ya?"

Mitch looks over at Hunter for a moment, then nods his head. "I love her."

"Good, because personally, I want you two to work it out. You make her happy." Hunter lets out a long breath, and looks around the diner before responding. "She's going to need someone that makes her happy."

"Maybe that's you, because I'm not sure it's me. Love is one thing, but happiness is something else entirely."

"It can't be me. Lookit, Mitch, I'm not getting any better. Five months of chemo and I'm no better than I was before. It can't be me because she's going to need someone to be there for her when I'm not around anymore."

"I'm sorry. I'm…man, I don't know what to say. I had no idea."

"You wouldn't because I haven't told McCall yet. I've been waiting on this little quarrel to pass."

"She's going to take that hard."

"Yes, she will, and I don't want her to carry the load alone," Hunter rubs his hands over his face and blows out a breath, "I don't want her to have a ring-side seat as I slowly die."

"It's really that bad?" Mitch asks, sincerely worried.

Hunter nods, a slight, nearly unperceivable nod. "I'll do my part in pushing her away, if you follow through on the promises you've already made to her."

With that, Hunter slides off his bar stool and pulls a couple of bills out of his wallet. "Needless to say, this conversation never happened," he says and walks out of the diner.

XXXXX

Mitch must have taken Hunter's tête-à-tête to heart, because just a few days later McCall was smiling again. And although this was what he wanted, it made it no less difficult to tell her his discouraging news — he is starting a more aggressive treatment that includes radiation as well as more chemotherapy. But McCall took the news in stride, at least from Hunter's vantage point.

Since she had already canceled most of the wedding plans, now their wedding date in July is no longer available. Between McCall's required continuing education course scheduled in August and Mitch's commitment to the history department's study abroad program in Central America during the fall semester, they had no choice but to push the wedding date out to December. When Hunter questioned again why they didn't just elope and get it over with, McCall simply replied, "Our relationship is in a trial phase."

"See you later. I'll be over by six." McCall says when she sees Hunter putting on his suit jacket and preparing to leave. It's chemo Wednesday again. "Any special dinner requests tonight?"

"Nope, not this time. You're not coming over," Hunter says, making true on his promise to Mitch.

"What?" She says, sounding hurt.

"Go see your fiancé. Have a nice dinner, or whatever it is you two do together."

"You don't need…."

"My mother is spending a few days with me. In fact, she's outside waiting to drive me."

"Oh! Okay, then. Good," she says, adjusting her plans in her head. "I'll give you a call later, then."

"If you feel you must. Chow."

...to be continued...