“Big baby. Didn’t you get plowed down by someone in Sunday’s game? Surely that man had more impact than my tiny, little pinch.” I joke with him, knowing he’s sensitive about being sacked.
“Not cool, Biz.”
“Serves you right for saying I look like shit.”
“That’s not what I said. I said you were pale, but truthfully, you can pull off the whole pale look, especially with unicorns jumping around on your scrubs.”
“Shut up.” I unlatch our joined hands and start slapping at him playfully. He overpowers me easily, pinning my arms behind my back, and tickles me until I beg for mercy.
That’s how we are when the doors open, and the people waiting for the elevator are faced with me squirming like a fish.
I straighten quickly, trying to regain my composure. But no one pays any attention to me when they recognize Nicky. He gets a few pats on the back and praises of ‘good game’ as he hurries past, leading me toward the cafeteria.
“I’m sure word already got out that you are here. The kids’ parents were as excited as the children themselves.”
“Yes, but I want a few minutes alone with you, not signing autographs or discussing game strategy.”
We file in line, and he hangs over my shoulder, watching me make my salad. I almost throw a tomato in his face until I remember it’ll bring attention to us and he’s trying to lay low.
“Will you stop looming and go get us a water?” I semi-growl under my breath.
“You don’t want a Coke?”
“Shit no, just a water.”
He dips down to look at my face and makes a production of feeling my forehead and checking my cheeks. I jab him in the ribs, giving him a dirty look, until he goes to the drink cooler and meets me back in line. As always, he insists on paying then drags me to a booth in a corner.
“What the hell was that? You didn’t want a Coke?”
“Thank your fucking brother for that. He’s filled my fridge and my pantry with at least six cases of Coke. Every time we start talking about the situation, he hands me a cold one, thinking it will miraculously change things. Never thought I’d say this, but I’m not sure even the powers of Coke can make this better.”
“So talk to me, and don’t give me this ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. I know you, Bizzy. Nothing about this situation is fine.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m processing.”
“How exactly are you processing?”
“Well, for one, I’m prepared for the test to come back positive. Shaw’s done denying it. He’s ready to move forward.”
“This isn’t about Shaw. I don’t give a flying fuck right now about how my stupid ass brother is. This is about you.”
This is why Nick Bennett has been my rock for so long. His concern for me knows no bounds. Blood may be thicker than water, but to him, I am blood.
I push the salad around the plate, my appetite disappearing.
“I’m hurt and so, so scared,” I finally admit out loud.
“Hurt I can understand, but why are you scared? We’re not kids anymore, and Sasha Crane can’t do anything else to you.”
I give a sarcastic laugh. “If only you knew.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Time to spill, Bizzy. I’m serious here. Tell me what’s going through your head.”
I drop my fork and abandon eating, looking up into his concerned eyes.
“Don’t you think this is too weird? Like the universe has it out for me? I’ve always tried to see the bright side of things, but I can’t turn this around. I hated getting cancer. I was scared out of my mind, but it brought me you. It was tough getting into the Nursing Program, but it gave me the incentive to work and push harder. There, I met Claire. Every time I lose a patient, it affects me all the way to my bones, but I remember their sweet faces and try to make my next patient smile through the pain.
“This is too much. I can’t see the bright side. The chances of Shaw getting another woman pregnant were slim. But the chance it is Sasha Crane? That’s too eerie. And now I have to live with the fact she can give him what I may not be able to. A baby.”