You Don't Own Me(127)

It seems as if ages pass. I am sitting with my head leaning against the glass when I hear the powerful roar of his car. He parks, looks up to the window, sees me, and begins to run. I hear him take the steps three maybe four at time. He bursts through the door and crossing the room takes me into his arms.

‘You’re freezing,’ he says. His voice throbs with emotion.

‘I was waiting for you.’

‘What did that tarot reader say to you?’

I lift my face away from his chest. ‘She said I was born holding three lives in my hand. Mine, the baby’s, and yours.’

‘I love you more than life itself, so I am telling you now, I’ll do everything in my power to stop you from having this baby.’





THIRTY-FIVE




Layla

‘Layla, of course, we’re all utterly and completely torn up about the baby, but we simply can’t let you do this. You can’t expect us to. We love you. You can’t do this to us, to BJ,’ Jake says gently.

I look at them one by one: my mother, Jake, Dominic, and Shane. For the last hour and a half they have taken turns, alternately shouting, coaxing, wheedling, and threatening to force me to change my mind. At different times, they have all looked at me as if I have gone completely crazy. Maybe I am crazy. All I know is that Tommy came to me, and asked me to be his mother. I agreed and I’m not going back on my word.

‘I’m not changing my mind. You can either help me by finding out all the ways I can naturally hold the cancer at bay for the next 76 days or you can just stand by and watch me do it alone,’ I repeat my stand again.

I look at them all calmly.

Jake shakes his head in disbelief, throwing his arms up into the air and striding off angrily. I know he will be back. Jake doesn’t give up easy, but I have won this round.

As ever, it is soft-hearted Dominic who cracks first. ‘All right. I will help you. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.’

Gratefully, I rush to him and hug him tightly. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much, Dom. You don’t know what this means to me,’ I say, tears stinging my eyes.

Next to capitulate is Shane. I squeeze both his hands. But my mother just sits there like a statue, tears pouring down her face.

‘Leave me for a bit with Ma,’ I tell my brothers. They leave the room silently and close the door.

I don’t talk to my mother. I go and sit next to her, hold her hands, and look into her eyes. And suddenly we start crying. Both of us just weeping.

‘How could this happen to you?’ she sobs. ‘You’re my baby. Without you there is no joy in this family.’

‘Then help me beat this,’ I choke back.

‘How?’

I wipe my eyes. ‘I’ve already done a bit of research on the net this morning, but I’m going to do more. The plan is to keep myself so healthy that the cancer cannot advance at any great speed. I only have to keep it at bay for 76 days,’ I tell her passionately.

I see a trembling ray of hope shine into my mother’s eyes. ‘76 days?’

I nod. ‘Just 76 days, Ma. That’s not much to give up for a whole baby, is it?’

My mother covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head.

I sigh with relief.

She uncovers her mouth. ‘I’m so proud of you, Layla. You’ve really grown up good.’

I could have gone home and done my research there on my on laptop, but I want to include her, so we go upstairs to the desktop computer that she never uses and pour over cancer research together. We stay clear of allopathic treatments or websites that don’t have any endorsement by serious doctors or researchers. In two hours, we’ve printed reams and reams of research material. We split the papers into two piles. Ma takes one and I take the other.

It is nearly lunchtime when I lift my head from the article I am studying. BJ is waiting for me at home. For as long as I can remember, my mother has always stood in the kitchen surrounded by food when I left the house. Today, she is wearing her reading glasses and the kitchen table is full of papers.

I look at my mother and I feel a great sadness. I pull myself together. I cannot afford, even for a second, to reflect on or question my decision. It will bring fear into my body and sap away my strength.

‘Bye, Ma,’ I say, kissing the top of her head.

She grabs me, hugs me tightly, and follows me out of the house. Her forlorn figure waves to me from the front door.





THIRTY-SIX




Layla

“Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.”

— Hippocrates, recognized as

the father of modern medicine

I arrive home and find BJ up on the roof terrace. He glances at me and carries on staring out at the landscape.