As expected, classes are canceled today, and I couldn’t wish for a better day to stay locked in my room.
I text Steffi, begging her to call me when she wakes up. Clearly, I have got to tell her all the details of the past day, but this has to be done over the phone and not text. I know that she’s been an advocate for my happiness more than I have for years, and it would mean the world for me to show her how far I’ve come. To share the proof that I am taking charge of my life.
Late afternoon arrives, and I’m still unshowered and in my robe. The feel and smell and taste of Esben are all over me, and I love it. Esben is currently reading a book on his phone while languishing in bed half-dressed, and I’m flitting around the suite, tidying up and grinning stupidly while I do various unnecessary cleaning projects. I’m just so goddamn happy that I don’t know what to do with myself.
My phone finally rings, and I practically fling myself across the bedroom to reach it.
“Steff!”
“Hey, honey.”
“Oh my God, I’ve missed you so much! What is up with your phone situation? Why haven’t you hooked up the new one from Simon? I want to see your sweet face!” I gush. “I have news. I’m so glad you called.” I move into the second bedroom and half shut the door. “How have your crazy trips been? I want to know everything!”
“Allison, I need to talk to you.” She sounds strange, but I can’t tell how exactly.
“Okay. Yeah, of course. Anything. What’s going on?”
There’s a long silence that unnerves me. “Esben is with you?” she asks.
“Yes. Why?”
“Good. I want you to have him with you for this.” Her voice has an unfamiliar monotone, a weakness to it, and my chest tightens. “This is going to hurt.”
“Steffi.” I sit down on the bed. “Tell me.”
“Allison, you are my best friend. You always have been, and you always will be. And I know that you love me, so I’m going to ask you to listen and let me get through this.”
“What are you talking about?” A panic begins to rise, and my heart is pounding with a beat I cannot keep up with. I suddenly know where this is going. The actual content doesn’t process yet; the words don’t permeate my thoughts yet, but I know.
“This is going to be rough for me to get out. Tell me that you will listen and let me finish. As my best friend, you need to do this for me.”
I inhale and exhale so roughly, and I already feel the pain that is coming. “Yes.”
“I’ve been lying to you, Allison. I haven’t been on a cruise. I’m not moving to a new apartment.”
I’m so confused. “Okay, so what—”
“You know that when I was a kid, I had cancer. I haven’t told you everything about that, though. There was a tumor in my shoulder. I had surgery to remove it, then really nasty radiation and chemo. The chemo was awful, but it helped treat the cancer. After that, I got tons of scans and lab work and heart testing done for years, and everything was clean for a long time.”
I can hear her gather her words, and I clasp a hand over my mouth to muffle my need to cry out.
“With the kind of chemo I had, once-normal cells are triggered to overproliferate, and people can end up with too many white cells. It saved me at the time, but there’s always a risk that it can cause other cancers down the line. And that’s what’s happening.”
“No,” I say. “No!” I am calm but forceful. I will not allow this. Not now, not ever.
“This cancer I have now is deadly. It’s called AML leukemia, which stands for acute myeloid leukemia. It’s as serious as it gets.”
I rally, and I do not panic. And I hyperfocus on the facts, because that’s all I can do. “Okay. So what’s the plan?”
“There is no plan. There is nothing to do.”
“What do you mean?” My vision grows blurry, so I shut my eyes.
“The only option is the sort of chemo I had before, and, even though I was young, I remember that hell enough to know that I won’t do it again. No one likes any kind of chemo, but this particular kind that I had and that I’d need again? Never. I won’t do it. It’s not an option.” The finite quality of her tone scares me to my core. “I’m taking some medication, but it’s not going to do much.”
I won’t accept this. We will not allow this cancer to take her down. Not after everything she’s been through and everything she’s triumphed over. I begin to pace the room. “You have to do the chemo. I’ll come out there. I’ll stay with you, and I’ll get you through this. I know it’ll suck—I get that—but we can do this.” I’ve got moments left before I fall apart, so she needs to take me up on this.
She’s too quiet and soft when she answers. “Allison, no. I’m not doing the chemo. And I would never let you watch me go through it. Even if I could put up with how awful it is, it would only buy me an additional month or two on top of the limited time I have. There’s no point.”
A month or two.
My arm stretches out to grab the desk. I’m going to collapse. This is not happening. I have got to be in the midst of a vivid and graphic nightmare. I will wake up. I will wake up, and this will not be happening.
“Steffi . . . Steffi . . .” I am losing air. I cannot breathe.
“So, listen to me, Allison. Listen to every word I say to you.” I know that she’s tearing up, and the break in her words guts me, because I have never heard her be anything but stoic and tough as nails. “I hate doing this to you. I hate that more than anything that’s happening to me. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I couldn’t.”
“When you came out here.” I stand now and begin furiously pacing from the bedroom to the living area and back, as if I can outrun this. “Honey, you knew you were sick then?”
“Yes. I’d just found out. I didn’t want to see how you’d look at me, so I put off telling you until I had to. I couldn’t take seeing your face. How you were going to hurt. But I’m tired all the time now, I feel awful, and you need to know what’s happening.”
I control my voice and my words. “Steffi, what can I do? There must be something. I can fly out there immediately. I’ll do anything for you. Let me help. We can find another doctor, another treatment center. We will fix this, okay?”
“Shit, Allison, there is no fixing this!” The force of her response slams against me. “There is no fixing this. This is the end. I’m going to die.”
The entirety of what she’s saying begins to wash over me, and I cannot do anything but freeze in place. Time stops, my heart stops, life stops. “How long?”
The roar of the silence is excruciating. Steffi finally answers. “A few months. Maybe more, maybe less.”
The sound that rips from my chest must be loud and alarming, because Esben is at my side. Without knowing how I got there, I find myself on the floor, with my head pressed into the carpet, my fingers gripping the phone hard. Esben’s hands are on my waist, trying to pull me up. But I cannot move.
“So, don’t talk, Allison,” she continues all too calmly. “Here’s the deal, and I’m so sorry for this, but it’s what has to happen. It’s what I need.” Now her words are shrouded in heartache. “This is going to be the last time that we talk to each other.”