Afraid To Lose Her. Syndi Powell

said.

      Pushing those thoughts aside—this was her partner and friend Dez after all—Sherri told him genuinely, “Thanks for coming over.”

      Dez glanced around the living room and held up his hands. “Trying to get rid of me already? Your mom promised to feed me.”

      Of course she did. Because that was what her mother did, stuffed everyone with food who came through the front door. Sherri wanted, no, needed, time and space to examine how confused she felt about Dez. And she’d have a clearer picture if the man himself wasn’t standing in front of her looking so good.

      She brought a hand up to her hair and wished she’d at least washed it in the sink. Not that her appearance had mattered when it came to Dez. Despite Mama’s assertions, she knew he thought of her only in terms of friendship and work.

      * * *

      TUESDAY’S APPOINTMENT WITH Dr. VanGilder gave Sherri stomach cramps the more she thought about it. She dressed as if she was going to work. A cream blouse, navy jacket and pants. She tried to think of herself as putting on her armor to face whatever dragon still lay before her. If she acted like this was a typical day, then maybe that was how it would turn out.

      She drove to her parents’ neighborhood to pick up Mama, who had agreed to take notes while the doctor went over all the test results and made his recommendation for treatment. She pulled her car to the curb and took the tray of coffees with her to the front door. Her father answered and exclaimed when she thrust a bakery bag into his hand. “Thought you could use something sweet.”

      He opened the bag, then kissed Sherri’s cheek. “Honey crullers. My favorite.” He pushed the door open wider so that she could enter. “Your madre said she’d call me at work, after you talk to the surgeon, to let me know.”

      “I’m sorry you can’t go with us.”

      Her dad waved his free hand. “Some stuff a father doesn’t need to know.”

      Sherri moved ahead to the kitchen and put the tray of coffees on the counter. She took one of the paper cups and sipped from it. “It’s going to be okay, Dad.”

      He watched her, his eyes searching hers. “Trying to convince me? Or yourself?”

      She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Both maybe.”

      They looked at each other for a long while, but didn’t say any more. Instead, her dad pulled a cruller from the bag and offered it to her. She shook her head. “I got them for you,” she told him.

      “Gracias.”

      Mama entered the kitchen, followed by Abuela. Sherri pointed to the counter. “I brought coffee and crullers, if Dad will share.”

      “I don’t think I can eat, mija.” Mama held a hand to her belly. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and my stomach...it is in knots.”

      Her dad kissed Mama and hugged her tightly. “Sherri said it’s going to be okay.” He kissed her again. “It will be. No matter what the doctor says.”

      Sherri glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get going just in case of rush hour.”

      Despite the heavy traffic, they made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Sherri clasped Mama’s hand in hers as they entered the doctor’s office and found seats in the tiny waiting room. Mama held up a small pad and pen. “For notes, just like I promised.”

      Thank goodness her mom had remembered, because Sherri wasn’t sure she could remember her own name at the moment. All she could focus on was the beat of her heart. Each breath took an effort, and her skin felt tight as if it would crack and break open with a simple movement.

      A nurse opened the inner office door and called Sherri’s name. Sherri rose to her feet and squared her shoulders. Mama nodded and stood, as well.

      The next hour was spent discussing test results and the next steps. Sherri’s prognosis wasn’t good. Scans showed cancer peppered throughout her right breast, not just in the lump they’d removed. The biopsy indicated that it was a type of cancer that tended to spread rather than remain localized. Sherri held up her hand. “Wait. What are we talking about here?”

      Dr. VanGilder looked up from the medical file and faced her. “I recommend a bilateral mastectomy.”

      Sherri brought her arms up to her chest. “Both? But I thought the cancer was only in the right one.”

      Dr. VanGilder stepped forward, closing the distance between them. A kind, but knowing expression on his face. “It is, although there are suspicious spots in the left I’m looking down the road.”

      “And then after the surgery?”

      “Depending on further test results, chemo and radiation. And once you’re healed, reconstruction.” He tried to give her a smile, but the situation didn’t seem to call for it. Instead, he let out a sigh. “When this is all over, we can give you the body you want.”

      “But what if I want this one? It’s what I know.” Sherri shook her head and dropped her arms to her sides. “This isn’t fair.”

      “Cancer doesn’t care about what’s fair, unfortunately.” Dr. VanGilder closed the file. “Sherri, obviously this is hard for you to take in, but the sooner we move on this, the better your chances are later.”

      Mama reached out and took Sherri’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “When do we do this?” Sherri asked.

      He checked his tablet. “I have an opening in two weeks.”

      Sherri took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So soon? Too soon. She tried to swallow and tasted bile. What was she going to do? What was there to do but agree to the doctor’s recommendation? She agreed and appreciated Mama’s note-taking, since she didn’t hear another word that Dr. VanGilder said after that. Her mind instead insisted she’d do what she would have to in order to survive. Surgery? Fine. Chemo and radiation? Sure. Because she wouldn’t give up and give in to this disease. She would fight.

      But she didn’t have to be happy about it.

      * * *

      THIS DAY COULDN’T arrive any sooner for Dez. He’d missed seeing Sherri on a daily basis, even though he’d been with her just days ago at her parents’ house. He kept watching the office door for her to enter. She’d promised to show as soon as she’d met with the surgeon. He kept his fingers crossed for good news. They could use some of that.

      Noon was approaching and still no Sherri. His stomach reminded him that it needed attention. He glanced over at the office door. He could wait until Sherri arrived and then take her to lunch, so they could discuss what the doctor had said. Because her condition affected him as well as her.

      She was his partner, and the job didn’t work without her. Maybe she’d phone and not come in after all. He turned to check on the captain in his personal office, but Phil didn’t seem to be doing anything except reviewing files and drinking coffee. She wouldn’t not call Cap, but if the news wasn’t great...

      The office door opened and Sherri stepped forward. She looked... Angry? And maybe a little worried. He jumped up and got to her desk just as she slammed her purse down. She removed her handgun from the locked desk drawer and holstered it to her side. She winced a little, but apart from that looked the same. He watched her, waiting for her to say something. Ignoring him, she snatched the purse from the desktop and placed it in her drawer. She threw herself into the chair and looked up at him. “What?”

      “I was going to ask how the appointment went, but I think I got my answer.”

      Sherri pursed her lips and shook her head, the loose waves of her dark brown hair falling forward around her shoulders. She kept shaking her head and refused to talk until he put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “It’s going to change everything,” she whispered.

      That was what he’d been worried about. “What’s next?”