The Caregiver - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,38
troubles away. Have a good cry. But even in the weak condition she was in, she knew that wouldn’t help. Nothing good ever came from hiding and pretending nothing was wrong. She’d discovered that when she’d felt a lump under her arm and had ignored it.
Gingerly, she sat up and tried to smile. Though it embarrassed her, she let Lucy hold her cup for her as she sipped once, then swallowed again. The icy water did taste wonderful on her parched tongue. She swallowed again, but too fast and choked.
“Easy now,” Lucy murmured. “Take small sips.”
Mattie did as she bid. When the cup was half empty, she looked at Lucy and smiled.
Lucy returned her weak smile tenfold. “See, Mattie, things are going to be all right. Slowly but surely, we’re going to get through this. I’m sure of it.”
“Slowly is right,” she mumbled.
Doubt clouded Lucy’s caramel eyes for a moment before she beamed again. “Come now. We must look on the bright side, jah? You got through your first treatment!” Hardly skipping a beat, Lucy started smoothing Mattie’s fluffed pillows and yellow basket–patterned quilt. “That cancer isn’t going to have a chance.”
“I hope so,” she replied, though mentally she rolled her eyes. Yesterday, when they’d first put the medicine in her IV tube, she’d been scared to death. When she’d felt the cold liquid pour into her veins, she’d braced herself for pain. But none came, perhaps because of the many pills she was taking now to fight off everything from pain to nausea to sleeplessness.
However, today nothing seemed right. She felt achy and worn-out. So, so tired.
Leaning closer, Lucy carefully wrapped her hands around Mattie’s. Warming them. “Please stay positive, Mattie. You’re a fighter, and you’re going to win this battle, I just know it.”
“A fighter, hmm?” Mattie mused. “I never thought of myself in that way.”
“It’s about time you did. Now, are you ready to walk down the hall and use the restroom?”
“I suppose.”
Over the next hour, Lucy held her cousin steady as she walked down the hall, took care of her needs, and brushed her hair.
When Lucy offered to bring her some toast in bed, Mattie shook her head. “I can sit in the family room, at least. Just help me get on a robe.”
Finally, while sitting on the couch, armed with hot herbal tea and some dry toast, Mattie was just feeling almost like herself when the kitchen door opened. “Hello?” a male voice called out. “May I come in?”
With a glare, Lucy jumped to her feet.
Mattie laughed. Lucy looked so like an avenging angel. “It’s just Graham, Lucy. Not a stranger.”
“Graham?”
“Graham Weaver,” Mattie explained. “You know. Calvin’s younger brother.”
He poked his head in. “May I come in?”
Lucy started toward the kitchen. “What do you want to do?” she whispered. “Do you want me to make him leave?”
“No.” What her cousin didn’t understand was that she and Graham had been friends for pretty much all their lives. “If he came to visit, I’d like to see him for a bit.”
Before Lucy could say another word, Graham bounded forward. “Hello, Lucy,” he said politely, then crossed the room to Mattie, a bouquet of tulips in his hand. “I brought you some flowers.”
“So I see.”
Looking pleased with himself, he said, “I thought you might want to see some spring flowers when you wake up in the mornings.”
They were lovely. The eight blooms were a mixture of rose and violet and yellow, each one prettier than the last. “Nothing could brighten my day more,” she said honestly.
Still hovering, Lucy stepped forward. “I’ll put the tulips in water,” Lucy offered.
“Danke,” Mattie said.
When they were alone, Graham pulled up a chair and sat next to her. Oh, but he looked so dear. And so ill at ease.
Turning serious, he said, “How are you doing?”
“Well enough, I suppose.”
He shook his head. “Really?”
“Ah, we’re telling the truth now, are we?” She shrugged. “I’ve been better.”
“Mattie, are you in pain?”
“A little, but I don’t need anything,” she added when he looked like he was about to jump to his feet to get her help. “I mean beyond the flowers.”
“I’ll bring them to you all the time, then.” His teasing smile let her know that she didn’t need to take him seriously.
“There’s no need for that. Just bring yourself. You know I value your friendship the most.”
“You always have that,” he said quietly as he reached out and took her hand. Like she was made of glass, he ran one finger along the black-and-blue marks.