“Yeah, they’re actually just a few miles from Sheridan. It looks like it’s one of those newly renovated old townhouses off the beaten path. Oh, right there.” Hadley pointed as she pulled into a spot right on the street.
We got out and Hadley got a cake carrier out of the back, Nina was holding a bouquet of beautiful red, white, and pink flowers, and we headed up to the front of a row of townhouses.
“Here goes nothing.” Hadley rang the doorbell and we waited.
“If she’s not home, can we still have cake?” Nina murmured.
“Heck yeah.” Hadley raised her hand to knock again as a pale woman wearing a pink turban opened the door a crack.
“Can I help you?”
“Um, hi.” Hadley and Nina looked as startled as I felt. “Are you Annie Cain?”
“Yes?” The woman opened the door another inch.
“I’m Hadley Kirby. My husband, Wes, plays with Sawyer. We came to welcome you to…the team.”
“Oh.” The woman blinked a few times and slowly opened the door. “I, um, I’ve not been feeling well so I’m not dressed or anything.” Her voice was a whisper, as if speaking took more energy than she had.
“We won’t stay long,” Hadley said, smiling. “We just brought you a cake and wanted to say hello, but we’ll let you rest.”
“Oh. No. Please. Come in.” She stepped aside and Nina, Hadley, and I exchanged a glance before walking into the foyer. The living room still had a stack of boxes that had obviously not been unpacked from the move, and the coffee table was littered with what appeared to be pill bottles, water, and tissues.
“Should I put this in the kitchen?” Hadley asked, motioning to the cake in her hand.
“Yes. Th-thank you.” Annie sank down in a chair. “Please excuse the mess…like I said, I’m not feeling well and Sawyer’s on the road.”
“I’m Sheridan,” I said, smiling at her. “I’m dating Lars Jansson. Is there anything we can do for you? Maybe get you some soup or something?”
“I haven’t been able to keep anything down the last two days,” Annie said. “But thank you.”
“I’m Nina. I’m married to our starting goalie, Drew—” She cut herself off as Annie jumped to her feet, hands covering her mouth as she practically flew into the powder room in the hall.
We heard the sound of her vomiting and looked at each other.
“Maybe we should go,” Hadley whispered.
“What if she needs help?” I whispered back.
We stood there, unsure what to do, when Annie came back in.
“I apologize.” She held a towel in her hand, her pale blue eyes a little watery and her voice raspier now. “This round of chemo has been kicking my ass.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Hadley glanced at us. “What can we do? Do you need anything?”
“There really isn’t anything. The meds help with the nausea but anytime I eat, it comes back up. It’s an ugly cycle.” She sank onto the couch and closed her eyes.
“Would you rather we left?” Hadley asked. “We just wanted to welcome you to town. We had no idea you were sick. If Sawyer had said something…” Her voice trailed off.
“He doesn’t say anything because I asked him not to. I don’t want my illness to be the focus, instead of hockey. And the last three years, at home anyway, it’s all about my illness.”
“I’m so sorry.” I sat down beside her. “What can we do while we’re here? Really, anything at all. Get groceries for you, load the dishwasher…anything that might help while he’s away.”
“We get groceries delivered and someone comes to clean. Mostly I just sleep or watch TV. I don’t have the energy for anything else.” She paused, her eyes meeting mine with a look that was almost embarrassed. “It’s nice to have company, though. If you don’t mind me running to the bathroom and falling asleep mid-sentence.”
“We don’t mind at all.” Hadley sat in a chair across from her.
“I’ll put these in the kitchen.” Nina went to put the flowers somewhere and I turned to find Annie watching me thoughtfully.
“You’re Sheridan Lee,” she said after a moment.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh, wow. I’m a huge fan of the red bathing suit.”
I grinned. “Thank you. Me too.”
“Don’t know that I’ll be wearing one ever again now that…” Her voice trailed off and she blew out a breath. “Sorry. Cancer has been hard, but the double mastectomy was harder in some ways. No matter what your intelligent mind says, no matter how much your husband promises he doesn’t care, you still mourn the loss of your breasts. Your femininity.”
“Once you’re better, you can get fake ones,” Hadley said gently.
“I know.” Annie raised a trembling hand to her head. “It’s not just the breasts, though. It’s also the loss of every hair on my body, from the ones on my head to my eyelashes to my unmentionable parts. It’s the scars. It’s…everything.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “And the worst part is what it’s doing to Sawyer. My illness has dominated his entire life and it’s awful to watch him suffering with me. It’s like he punishes himself so I don’t feel as bad, like if he can be as miserable as I am, it will somehow help me. And of course it doesn’t, because watching him suffer just makes it worse.” She swiped at her eyes.