She was going to be okay. I’d repeated that phrase in my head a thousand times since waking up. It was my mantra today. The scans would come back clean and we’d be able to breathe again. If all it took was sheer thought power on my part, we’d have this in the bag. Because I’d dedicated every spare thought and feeling to this outcome for weeks.
Peter looked up and we shared a glance, and then I shot out of my seat and went to the water cooler down the hall for what seemed like the twentieth time. Peter was beside me a minute later.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Trying to be,” I answered.
He put a hand on my shoulder. “You know you can talk to me whenever you need to.”
I nodded.
“Don’t try to be the strong, silent type here. I know it’s your personality. You’re just like your dad in that respect.”
I shrugged and took a sip of water. “If you say so.”
“Adam, I know we don’t like to talk about these things much. I know you and I have had some kind of silent understanding since you came to live under our roof but—I just need to say this. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my son. I’ve loved you since you were born and I was glad and fortunate to have been able to help raise you. Your dad was my favorite brother.”
I laughed. “My dad was your only brother.”
He grinned. “Details. But he wasn’t just my brother, he was my best friend. It was hard to lose him but having you here, in my life, it’s like having him still. And I want you to know that I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk or…for whatever.”
I set the cup down and looked at him. This was weird. Peter rarely talked to me like this. We’d always had a good relationship but it never involved much talking. I always knew that Peter got me on a deeper level than talking. He was the father I never knew. I smiled. “Thanks. I love you too.” I reached out and clasped his shoulder.
And to my surprise, he pulled me into a hug. Weirder and weirder. It was an awkward man-hug sort of thing, which involved some backslapping. Just when I deemed it appropriate to pull away, he turned his head and said quietly. “She’s going to be okay.”
My breath froze and I stepped back. I looked away and nodded. I wasn’t the only one fixated on that hope, that thought, apparently.
An hour later, she came out, fully dressed. She looked exhausted, with circles under her eyes, and I thought my eyes deceived me but she looked pale, too. She immediately asked me for her compass back. I pulled it out and slipped it over her head.
Kim and Peter had said something about going out to get some lunch but Emilia had quietly shaken her head and tucked herself under my arm, asking me to take her home.
So I did.
The next twenty-four hours were hell. This was the time it took to get her doctors to go over her scans in minute detail and determine whether or not the cancer was still in her, and God forbid, whether or not it had spread to other parts of her body.
We spoke little. Watched a lot of television together. We made it through the entire fourth—and final—season of Farscape. We sat in the same lounge chair, my arms around her waist, her head on my shoulder.
The next day when her phone finally rang, we both jumped. It was her doctor’s office. With a look of no small terror, Emilia answered.
“Hey, Dr. Rivera,” she said, sounding completely normal, if a little breathy. Her hand reached out and clamped fiercely around mine. I sat beside where she stood and looked up in her face, hoping to be able to tell what the news would be.
“Okay,” she said, darting a glance at me and then looking away. “Should I come in?”
Another long pause. Her face showed nothing. She took a deep breath and the hand around mine squeezed tighter. I had no idea what that meant.
“Thank you. Yes. Next week, then. Yeah—I’ll do that right away. Thanks.”
She immediately clicked off the phone and I stared at her expectantly.
Her mouth turned up. “No evidence of disease,” she said in a trembling voice.
I shot up and pulled her into my arms, squeezing her tight. The air rushed out of me in dizzying relief. “Oh, thank God. Thank God.” I lifted her off the ground and twirled her around me.
She laughed, her arms tightening around my neck. I kissed her cheek, her neck, her face, her ear. Wherever I could reach her, I kissed her. She laughed even harder.
“You have to put me down,” she finally said.
“I don’t want to put you down.”
She laughed, turning her face to mine and planting a solid kiss on my mouth. “If you don’t put me down and I don’t call my mom in the next five minutes, she’ll come after you with a spoon to dig your heart out.”