Only in Dreams(70)

“Me too,” he adds and then pulls me in close, placing a tender kiss on my forehead.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t give you some hint as to how the brain scan came out,” I complain, picking up the last suitcase at our feet, and carrying it to the front door.

“He’s a doctor, that’s how they’re supposed to act. I think they just want to be able to explain all the big words in person.” I laugh at his comment, then slip the keys off the entry table and into my hand.

“How about I drive?” Henry offers.

I look at him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, I don’t think so. You might be feeling much better, but you still can’t sit in a car for more than ten minutes without falling asleep.”

“Yes I can … I can last at least fifteen minutes,” he insists.

“Exactly, now get your cute little ass in the car so we’re not late. We have a two hour drive ahead of us.”

“You know, I find this bossy side of you very sexy,” Henry remarks playfully, leaning over to give me a kiss as he walks by.

I take a deep breath, preparing to leave the life we’ve made here in the Hamptons and take in whatever news the doctors have for us. I know there is a very good chance in a matter of days Henry could be heading in for surgery, and while it’s terrifying, I also know it’s the best news we could possibly receive.

I watch Henry as he walks down to the car. Everything has seemed to change over the past couple months. His face is now so slender most people can tell something is wrong with him. He walks with an arched back, as though he’s trying to curl into himself as he moves.

Sometimes I tiptoe down the beach jut to get a good cry out, determined to never let Henry see me come unhinged. A good purge every week has seemed to do the trick. But here we are, about to find out the news that could be the salvation for both of us. I lock the front door then stop on the steps, taking in a deep breath and smelling salt in the air. It’s time, no more waiting.





HENRY SCOOPS MY hand up into his, causing me to stop picking at my cuticles. It is a habit I’ve picked up in recent months from all of the long waits in doctors’ offices. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“Don’t be nervous, everything’s going to be fine,” he reassures me. Henry always leaves me wondering where he gets his strength. Let someone cut me off in a parking lot, and I have no issues finding the courage to put the fear of God into them, but something like facing your own mortality, and I know I would be a complete basket case.

“I’m not nervous,” I insist. “I just don’t understand why they make you wait in a waiting room, only to bring you into the doctor’s office and make you wait some more. I mean, isn’t that the entire point of the waiting room.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“You’re too nice. It’s not like we’re waiting for our takeout order. We’re waiting to find out about a fucking—” The word trails off my lips as I hear the door open behind us.

“Henry, Paige, welcome. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Dr. Abbott says as he crosses the room, pausing to shake our hands.

“No, of course not, “ I quickly say, causing a low volume snicker out of Henry. With a gentle elbow to his side, he huffs then falls silent.

“Great, so let’s see here,” the doctor, an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair, and thin-rimmed glasses, says as he examines the file in front of him. “So, how have you been feeling?”

“Great—” Henry begins before I quickly interrupt with my nervous ramblings.

“He’s been better than great Dr. Abbott., I mean, there was a while there that he was really struggling, and I wasn’t sure. He wasn’t eating, and he barely ever got out of bed. But in the past week or two he has been back to his old self. We even went on a walk a couple days this week.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Henry jokes.

I feel my face grow hot. “I’m sorry, I’m just excited. I know it’s going to be good news.”

Dr. Abbott says nothing. He doesn’t look up, as Henry and I joke back and forth. He simply keeps studying the file in front of him, his face scrunched into an almost-frown.

“So when can I go in for the surgery?” Henry asks, sensing my uneasiness.

Dr. Abbott flips to another page, huffing as he reads the notes. Hesitating a moment more, he finally says, “Actually, it doesn’t look like we’re going to be able to do the surgery, Henry.” When the doctor says his name, I shudder. There is more in the way he says his name than in his entire statement.