anymore.”
I sighed. “This is one of those things that can’t continue on between us like it has in the past. Like when I made the appointment for you without asking you. I can misinterpret your intentions just as easily as you did mine. You don’t want to show weakness by asking for help—so you’re saying that you don’t need me. Or you don’t want to need me—and your other friends.”
She looked up and met my gaze, her brows pinched together, that tiny valley appearing in her forehead between them. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She let out a long sigh as if it hurt her to admit it.
Putting my hand behind my ear, I said, “What was that?”
I smiled and she made a face and stuck her tongue out at me. “I’m only going to say it once.”
“Seriously, though, Mia…let us be here for you? Please?”
We stared at each other for a long, silent moment and then she let go of the breath she was holding. “I will. I’ll try my hardest.”
“Do, or do not. There is no try.” I broke into a cheesy grin.
Finally a wide smile from her. “Whatever you say, Master Yoda.”
I checked my watch.
“Your mom will be here any minute.”
She suddenly looked very afraid, shifting in her seat in the huge recliner. I reached up and smoothed her cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I’m going to be Pukey McBarferini.”
I grimaced. “That’s a lovely image.”
“So is the one with me bent over a toilet for the next twenty-four hours. You don’t need to be around for that.”
I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat.
Her lips formed an o-shape when she realized why I was correcting her. Then she shook her head. “Wow, it comes so automatically…”
At that moment, Emilia’s mom walked into the room with a brave smile already fixed on her face. “Hey, you!” she said in a cheerful voice. She bent down and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I brought you some stuff from home.” Kim pulled out a bag with a battered stuffed animal, some fuzzy socks and an empty insulated plastic cup and straw to fill with ice water, presumably so Emilia could keep hydrated during treatment.
Emilia’s face flushed deep red. “Mom!” she groaned, grabbing the stuffed dog and tucking it quickly behind her in the recliner. She threw me a look and I fought a smile.
“Is that your stuffed dog?” I asked. “How cute.”
Her eyes narrowed and she held up a closed fist. “Don’t say nothing to me, mister, or you’ll regret it!”
“Mia!” Kim chided.
Emilia stuck her tongue out at her mother. “No interruptions from the humiliation committee, please.”
I grinned. “I might be afraid of the violent threats if they put something like super soldier serum in that IV.”
She looked over at the bag of glowing orange medication sitting on a tray, ready to be injected into her body in short order. With a grimace she said, “It looks radioactive. Maybe it will turn me into Spider-woman.”
I grinned. “A helluva lot more sexy than Pukey McBarferini.”
“No doubt.”
After a few more jokes, she seemed at ease…but my heart twisted in my chest when, after the nurse re-entered and explained the process, she inserted the IV into the port in Emilia’s chest. I pretended not to notice when Emilia quietly pulled the stuffed dog from behind her back and cuddled it next to her.
Instead I got up and went to the window, stuffed my hands in my pockets and tried to disguise the worry, fear and heartbreak in my own features before I turned back to her again.
Chapter Nine
Mia
“Not All Secrets Stay That Way Forever”— Posted on the blog of Girl Geek on January 19, 2014
Ever have a secret you were dying to tell but knew you’d be in big, big trouble if you did? What is it about the weight of a secret that makes unburdening oneself of it so satisfying?
Well…I’ve got a secret. It may just have something to do with that secret. You know the one.
And it’s not Victoria’s Secret, although the