Garrett (Cold Fury Hockey 2)

Olivia gasps and a thin sheen of tears fills her eyes. She blinks hastily, quickly dispelling the moisture, and gives me a tentative smile. Her hands creep up and lock onto my wrists while I still hold on to her face.

I search her eyes, wondering what she's thinking. I don't expect her to say the words back, because I didn't say them in order to get that response. I said them because Olivia shouldn't have to wait another day to know how I truly feel about her.

"I--I--" she stumbles...hesitates...her eyes drop from mine for a brief moment, then raise back up. She clears her throat and squeezes my wrists. "I don't deserve you."

Foolish, silly woman. Doubting herself. But she's dead serious right now, so I lighten the moment. "You totally don't deserve me. I'm stubborn, willful, and an asshole sometimes. I don't take much seriously, except you, and I'm a slob. I snore sometimes and forget birthdays. But when I said you're it for me? Well, I'm it for you. Admit it. I'm it for you and you're stuck with me."

The darkness in Olivia's eyes disappears, and she chuckles for a brief moment. Then she gets serious again, leaning in to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. She lays her head on my chest and she whispers, "You are. You're it for me too."

I smile wide and tighten my hold on her. She didn't tell me she loved me, but she gave me the next best thing. She gave me acceptance of our feelings, and that's good enough for me right now.

--

Looking around Dr. Yoffman's office, I can't help but be impressed. Oh, not because he has impressive medical degrees or anything. Which I'm sure he does, they're just not hanging on his walls. No, I'm impressed by the wildly bohemian flair to his decor. There's no rhyme or reason to it, and it looks like someone vomited a riot of colors in his office. He has his walls covered in bright prints featuring American Indians and western landscapes. He has a scuffed and scarred surfboard propped up in one corner, and wooden African masks hanging behind his desk. On another wall, he has a large print of a marijuana leaf that says LEGALIZE MEDICAL MARIJUANA. It all goes with his hippie long hair and jeans, and the Hawaiian-print shirts he wears. If it weren't for the wedding ring I'd noticed on his hand the last time I was here, I would think about trying to hook him up with Maryana.

I had seen him just last week with Olivia. My game schedule worked out nicely that I was here and available to go with her to her third treatment cycle. I didn't even have to call in sick to practice, as we had the day off. Olivia had told me that Dr. Yoffman was a Cold Fury fan, so I brought him a signed jersey and handed it off to the nurse to give him after she got Olivia hooked up.

About half an hour later, Olivia was settled in and reading a book. I had pulled my chair up opposite hers, and her feet were resting in my lap. I had my earbuds in and was just listening to some Meat Puppets when Dr. Yoffman walked up with a smile on his face. I pulled my earbuds out and stood up from my chair, gently pushing Olivia's legs off me.

Sticking his hand out, he said, "Just wanted to thank you for the jersey. That's so going in my man cave at home."

I took his hand and shook it with a smile. "Just trying to bribe you to make sure she gets the best possible medical care."

Olivia snickered and Dr. Yoffman gave her a quick grin. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Pretty great, actually," she said. "It gets easier each time."

"For some it does," he says, and then turned to me. "Just watch her carefully. Extreme fatigue, shortness of breath, chest pains...get her in to the hospital."

Anxiety seeped through me because I was leaving the next day for an away game, and the thought of her going through that again while I wasn't here made me sick to my stomach. I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak, because I wanted to demand that he do something to prevent that from happening. Which was ludicrous. I know that.

Dr. Yoffman chatted with Olivia for a few more minutes, making sure she was set to come in for the midway CT scan and blood work in a few days. Then he left and I took my seat again, propping Olivia's feet in my lap. She had taken her tennis shoes off and I gently rubbed her feet while she started to doze for a bit.

While I hated that she was going through this, I also knew I wouldn't trade this experience for the world. Every step I took with her on this journey brought us closer together, bound my heart to hers more tightly. I think I knew in that moment that I had fallen in love with her.

"So, his office is really strange, right?" Olivia whispers to me, jolting me out of my memories.

Smiling at her, I whisper back, "He reminds me of your mother. All free-spirited and shit. I like it, though...makes this all seem a little more bearable."

She nods in understanding, then our heads turn when the office door opens. Dr. Yoffman walks in wearing a Billabong T-shirt and a pair of frayed khaki shorts. "Excuse my causal dress today," he says as he sits behind his desk and starts flipping through Olivia's chart. "My wife and I are headed to the beach in a couple of hours."

Olivia and I cut a look at each other with matching smirks...because he's always casually dressed. I reach my hand out and she places hers in mine. I give her a reassuring squeeze.

"All right...I have the results in from the blood work and CT scan. Your blood looks good...white cells are a little low, but should rebound soon. The lymph node in your neck has decreased substantially and the small one we saw on your lung is completely gone."

Dr. Yoffman looks up with a confident smile on his face. I want to jump up and do a jig, but instead I just give Olivia's hand another squeeze.

"So does this mean I'm beating this thing?" Olivia asks with excitement, leaning forward slightly in her chair.

The smile slides a little bit on Dr. Yoffman's face, which causes me to feel uneasy. His voice is patient and cautious. "It means you are responding how I expected you would on this protocol. The treatment is working for now. That's fantastic news. But the flip side is we don't know what's going on in your marrow. We won't do another biopsy until after your last treatment."

I shudder, thinking about Olivia going through that biopsy again. Stevie told me about it one night when we all went out to dinner together, and then I got the bright idea to Google it. I watched a video of one being performed and totally lost my man card when I actually got a little queasy watching it. I pray to God that my schedule permits me to go with her to the next one she has, because as Stevie tells it, he almost passed out, and Olivia needs someone a bit stronger. Besides...I want her to rely on me first and foremost. It's a caveman sort of thing.

"But you're happy with how everything looks?" Olivia asks, and I sense desperation in her question. I think she was expecting the doctor to tell her that she would definitely be cured by the way things looked so far.

Dr. Yoffman gives her a kind smile and stands up from behind his desk. He walks around and leans a hip on the front edge of his desk, right in front of Olivia. Crossing his arms over his chest, he speaks frankly. "Olivia...this disease is treatable, and by that, I'm confident we are going to get you into remission. But don't forget...it's not curable. I don't want you to have expectations that will be failed down the road."

His words are not unkind...merely honest and stinging. I appreciate his frank talk, even if what he's saying isn't exactly palatable. Even if what he's saying brings home the terrible truth that this will probably always be hanging over Olivia's head. Over my head too.

I'm still confused, though. Dr. Velia had mentioned to me that it could potentially be cured with a bone-marrow transplant. He gave that information to me, almost like someone g

iving a starving dog a bone. This was right after he explained to me what a median life expectancy was.

"What about a bone-marrow transplant?" I blurt out, seeking something positive for him to give Olivia.

"A stem-cell transplant is an option...if it comes back in her marrow," he says. "Long-term studies on that look promising as a cure."

I turn to Olivia and give her a bright smile. See...even better news, and I'm proud of myself and even more thankful I called in sick so I could come with her. But Olivia doesn't look relieved by that news, and her lips pull downward in a frown.

Her eyes cast down to the floor and she says quietly, "I read an article online...it reiterated what you've told me all along...that this isn't generally a curable disease."

"But that's not all you read," Dr. Yoffman hazards a guess.

She shakes her head and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying at it. When she raises her eyes she says, "It said that this type of cancer is a life-limiting disease. You even told me that once before...used that same exact term, but I've been too afraid to ask you more about it."

My stomach bottoms out, drops, falls through the floor. The fear in Olivia's voice, the fear I'm feeling over hearing that again...it makes me sick at heart that Olivia has been worried about this and yet too fearful to find out what that really means.

"Olivia," Dr. Yoffman says kindly, but slightly chastising. "Stop reading stuff online. Some of it's good, but some of it isn't. How you choose to talk about this cancer is very subjective. Yes, I've said that this cancer is a life-limiting illness. But I never gave you any hard numbers as to what that meant. Want to know why?"

Olivia nods at him with wide eyes, almost begging for him to make this all better.

"Because what does life-limiting mean, anyway? Does it mean that possibly you could live to be ninety years old, but then it comes back one day and you die at age eighty-five? Yes, it could mean that. Does it mean that it could come back within three months of your last treatment? Yes, it could mean that. We just don't know. There's too much to speculate on. But what I can tell you is that we have ways to fight this. There is new research being done...new medications. Five years from now, we may have a cure. We just don't know. So I need you to stop focusing on the what-ifs and when something might happen, and concentrate on the fact that you are responding very well. If I was a betting man, I'm going to bet that you are going to lead a long and healthy life."