Garrett(87)
“No, it’s not one of those times,” she says, and actually stomps her foot on the ground. “It’s a freakin’ follow-up appointment. It probably won’t last ten minutes. I don’t need you or anyone there with me.”
Okay, now I’m getting pissed. Foolish, hardheaded woman.
My hands shoot out and cup her face, pulling her in close to me. I lean down and practically touch my nose to hers. When I’m assured her eyes won’t go anywhere other than in a locked position on mine, I tell her quietly, “Olivia…baby…this is more than just a follow-up. It’s where we find out how you are responding to treatment. Now, I know you…and I know you’re a fighter, so I’m expecting this is going to be full of good news, puppies, and rainbows. But in the off chance it’s not what we’re expecting, I want to be there with you. You need me there with you if that happens.”
Her eyes go soft, limpid pools of mossy green, and she utters a small sigh of resignation. “I just don’t like disrupting your career.”
This woman.
She makes me crazy with a million different feelings every day, ranging from lust to serenity, anger to happiness, security to doubt, comfort to fear. She’s a million different things to me, none of which I ever thought were possible, and now that I’ve experienced them, I know I can’t do without a single one.
Leaning down, I brush my lips against her. I run my nose up the side of her cheek and then kiss her at her temple. When I pull away, I wait until her eyelids flutter open and I tell her, “I love you, Olivia. I waited a long time to find this and there is nothing more important in my world than you. Don’t trivialize this. Accept it. You are it for me.”
Olivia gasps and a thin sheen of tears fills her eyes. She blinks hastily, quickly dispelling the moisture, and gives me a tentative smile. Her hands creep up and lock onto my wrists while I still hold on to her face.
I search her eyes, wondering what she’s thinking. I don’t expect her to say the words back, because I didn’t say them in order to get that response. I said them because Olivia shouldn’t have to wait another day to know how I truly feel about her.
“I—I—” she stumbles…hesitates…her eyes drop from mine for a brief moment, then raise back up. She clears her throat and squeezes my wrists. “I don’t deserve you.”
Foolish, silly woman. Doubting herself. But she’s dead serious right now, so I lighten the moment. “You totally don’t deserve me. I’m stubborn, willful, and an asshole sometimes. I don’t take much seriously, except you, and I’m a slob. I snore sometimes and forget birthdays. But when I said you’re it for me? Well, I’m it for you. Admit it. I’m it for you and you’re stuck with me.”
The darkness in Olivia’s eyes disappears, and she chuckles for a brief moment. Then she gets serious again, leaning in to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. She lays her head on my chest and she whispers, “You are. You’re it for me too.”
I smile wide and tighten my hold on her. She didn’t tell me she loved me, but she gave me the next best thing. She gave me acceptance of our feelings, and that’s good enough for me right now.
—
Looking around Dr. Yoffman’s office, I can’t help but be impressed. Oh, not because he has impressive medical degrees or anything. Which I’m sure he does, they’re just not hanging on his walls. No, I’m impressed by the wildly bohemian flair to his décor. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, and it looks like someone vomited a riot of colors in his office. He has his walls covered in bright prints featuring American Indians and western landscapes. He has a scuffed and scarred surfboard propped up in one corner, and wooden African masks hanging behind his desk. On another wall, he has a large print of a marijuana leaf that says LEGALIZE MEDICAL MARIJUANA. It all goes with his hippie long hair and jeans, and the Hawaiian-print shirts he wears. If it weren’t for the wedding ring I’d noticed on his hand the last time I was here, I would think about trying to hook him up with Maryana.
I had seen him just last week with Olivia. My game schedule worked out nicely that I was here and available to go with her to her third treatment cycle. I didn’t even have to call in sick to practice, as we had the day off. Olivia had told me that Dr. Yoffman was a Cold Fury fan, so I brought him a signed jersey and handed it off to the nurse to give him after she got Olivia hooked up.
About half an hour later, Olivia was settled in and reading a book. I had pulled my chair up opposite hers, and her feet were resting in my lap. I had my earbuds in and was just listening to some Meat Puppets when Dr. Yoffman walked up with a smile on his face. I pulled my earbuds out and stood up from my chair, gently pushing Olivia’s legs off me.