What's Left of Me
Page 47

 Amanda Maxlyn

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I give a little bow for approval, but seem to have forgotten I’m on ice skates because I lose my balance and go crashing down onto the ice, directly onto my right hip. The wind gets knocked out of me, causing me to grunt at the surprise impact. Pain slices through my hip and into my leg. Any pain I may have felt before in my hip has just multiplied.
“Shit! Are you okay?” Parker is at my side, bending over me before I can comprehend what just happened.
When I look into his eyes, his expression causes me to panic. His eyes are wide, his pupils have doubled, and his mouth is frozen open.
I look around, searching for my worst fear—my hair sprawled out next to me—but I see nothing. My hands fly up to my head. I feel hair. That’s good!
“Parker?” I ask with caution. I don’t know why he is looking at me like that.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay, good.” He stifles a laugh, which causes me to give him a stern look.
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s not funny!”
“I know. You’re right. It’s not.” But he laughs again.
“Parker,” I snap. Even though my hip’s throbbing, I give him a small smile because, after all, it is funny.
We both start to laugh. I’m laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt. Parker reaches down, offering me his hand, and I take it.
“I think I’ve had enough.”
“I figured.”
We make our way off the ice slowly. My hip really does hurt. I can already feel the bruise forming. With my blood counts a little lower due to the chemo, I bruise easier.
I make a quick move of checking my hair, but it feels good, so I don’t worry about it.
“Thanks,” I say to Parker as he helps me sit on the bench.
“You’ll need to ice that. It looked like you hit pretty hard.”
“I did.” One good thing about falling is I can pass off the pain I’ve been already feeling as this new pain.
I ask Parker to skip dinner and take me home. My hip is throbbing, and I can feel the new bruise forming over the old, but he won’t listen. He insists we go back to his house and finish the date, offering to make me dinner and possibly watch a movie, saying it won’t be a true date if he takes me home without feeding me. So, off to his place we go for homemade pizza.
“Do you want some wine?”
“Sure. Just a small glass.” Because my chemo was postponed a week, and it’s five days before my next one, I was told it would be okay to have a drink or two.
He pours us each half a glass of white wine, and we clink glasses in a silent toast. I watch him taste a small sip before taking a larger one. He makes drinking wine look professional compared to my gulps. Classy!
As Parker puts sauce on our pizza dough, I start adding toppings.
“Tell me more about where you’re from. It’s a small town, right?” Parker asks.
“Correct. Northridge is very small. It’s outside of the twin cities and I think there are maybe three thousand people who live there.”
“Yup. Never heard of it.”
I can’t help but giggle. “I wouldn’t expect you to; you’re not from here. But don’t worry, you’re not alone. About 80% of the state hasn’t heard of it. I usually have to give the name of a major town around me. We don’t have much, but we do have plenty of bars. There’s not a dry mouth in that town!”
He laughs at that. “Sounds like my town. It’s small, but there are plenty of places to find a stiff drink. Oh, and a clinic.”
Taking a quick sip of my wine, I ask, “What is it with small towns having a lot of bars?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I add the last of the pepperoni just in time for the oven to beep.
Parker puts our pizza in the oven.
“How old were you when your parents adopted Genna?”
“My parents adopted her first. They had tried to have a baby for a few years and couldn’t, so they adopted. Then, voila, they had me.” I add in the spirit fingers with a huge grin. Parker laughs.
“That’s awesome. I take it you two are close?”
“Yeah. We get along really well. You mentioned when we first went out that you have a younger brother. How about you two? You close?”
“Oh, Lee and I? Yeah. We are. We’re opposites, though. He played football; I played hockey. I golf in the spring; he plays baseball. We’re both athletic, just not at the same sports. But, regardless, we always have a good time.”
“Lee?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell me you know him?” he jokes.
I laugh.
“No, can’t say I know a Lee. It’s just, that’s my middle name, but spelled L-e-i-g-h.”
“No shit. Well, don’t get too comfortable with having things in common with my brother,” he teases.
“What’s yours?” I ask.
“My middle name?”
I nod.
“Cade.”
Cade. I like that. Giving him a soft smile, I tell him.
“Thank you.”
“Does your brother live in Florida?”
“Yes. He works for my dad’s finance company.”
“Did your dad want you to work for him too?”
“No. My parents never pressured us into anything. As long as we went to college they were happy and supportive. Lee just happens to be really good with numbers and accounting, so it made sense that he’d follow in my dad’s footsteps. I’m more like my mom. She never worked aside from running the hobby farm. All she wanted to do was be outside with the animals. I saw her admiration and love for animals, and I knew I wanted to be like her.”