La Vie en Rose {Life in Pink}

  ****

  All signals were a go.

  Rarity was gone for the night. Emma hadn’t touched her laptop all day. When he’d spotted her curled up on the couch with the boo-boo blanket he suspected he’d miscalculated her cycle, but after checking the bathroom cabinet he ascertained he was in the clear.

  It was go time. Sex was happening.

  Locking the door, he snatched a dog treat for Marla and threw it on his sister’s bed. Marla happily chased after it and curled into Rarity’s pillows. Door closed, one obstacle handled.

  As he returned to the kitchen, he lowered the lights and lit the flowery scented candle Emma had picked up at Pier One. Ambiance—check! It was time to pounce.

  His prey rests unsuspecting in her remote habitat commonly referred to as the couch. Drifting slowly in the shadows, he, the predator, breaches her sanctuary. Unaware, the female lay with her crown poised vulnerably on her raised knee as she perches in wait.

  The female tolerates the dominant male in the den of iniquity, as he reveals his position. Settling beside her, he conspicuously unveils his desire with a glance, commonly recognized by the female of the species as the pre-mating smolder. Prepared to ravish the female, the predator eases in for the hunt and reaches for a teat.

  Emma shouldered him away. “I’m not in the mood.”

  Crikey! Shot down again. And why was his inner monologue suddenly in an Australian accent?

  He shook off her rejection and tried for a different approach. Casually rubbing her knee through the blanket, he smiled. “You feelin’ okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t take her gaze off the television.

  “Everything going okay with your website?” Maybe she was overwhelmed.

  “It’s good enough.”

  This was not his little perfectionist. Something was wrong. “Emma, did I do something to upset you?”

  “Jesus, Riley, not everything has to do with you!”

  Drawing back, he scowled at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  She turned, her eyes glassy with tears. “There automatically has to be something wrong with me because I don’t feel like fucking you?”

  “Whoa!” He held up his hands in surrender. “What crawled up your ass? I was just playing around. You know what?” He scoffed and stood. “Forget it. I’m going out. Have a fun night by yourself.”

  “Whatever.” She stared back at the television no longer acknowledging his presence.

  Whatever was right. Women and their fucking moods. He’d had enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  The moment Riley left Emma shut off the television. She’d been staring at it all day and not sure of a single thing she’d watched. Her entire body was tense and she was one tear away from shattering into a million pieces.

  Locking the door and latching the chain, she went to the bathroom and tried to gather her courage. She’d waited all day for a moment alone, but now that it was here, she wished Riley or Rarity would come barging in. She couldn’t do this.

  Forcing the motions, not thinking about the purpose, she stripped. Staring at her reflection, seeing the woman before her as suddenly different, she studied herself. Her mind could only acknowledge bits and pieces of why she was staring at herself naked—not something she frequently did.

  Her opinions were no longer harsh. On the contrary, they were forgiving, remorseful. Those wrinkles by her eyes were too fine. Yesterday they marked her age, but today they marked her youth, tallied her smiles and she wanted more.

  Her heart pounded beneath her breasts the lower her gaze dropped. Pale and translucent at parts, her breasts had yet to serve their true purpose. They were meant to nurse and that would leave stretch marks, scars she desperately wanted.

  Her mouth tightened as her chin trembled and her throat went dry. Unshed tears blurred her vision. No. She was not going to cry like a little girl. She was going to power through and deal with whatever this was like a woman. I’m a grown woman.

  Her eyes closed. Then why do I still feel like a little kid?

  Her body was imperfect, but it was hers, her temple, her home, her only vessel in this world and it was possibly betraying her. Biting her lip, she opened her eyes and a wall of tears collapsed and fell unchecked.

  Glancing at the door, she lifted her left arm over her head and breathed. She was an adult. She could face this. With the fingers of her right hand, she gently cupped her left breast and massaged. Using slow, circular motions she inspected the soft tissue, much like she had that morning while lying in bed, only this time she was alone.

  Maybe this morning she’d made a mistake. Everything felt fine now. Nothing out of the—

  “No,” her voice croaked as if miles away.

  Chin trembling, her fingers stilled over the hard mass in her left breast and the woman in the reflection broke. “No,” she cried, stunned that something was there that hadn’t been a week ago.

  Her feet shifted as her posture twisted. No matter which way she turned it was there. Now that she’d located it her fingers couldn’t seem to lose it. Tiny, hard, possibly just some fat or maybe an ingrown hair, but something was definitely there. It was real, not something she’d imagined.

  Lowering her hand, forcing her inspecting fingers to still, she frowned at the irritated blotch now marking her soft flesh. No longer able to watch her reflection, she hugged her body and leaned into the tile wall. Her body shivered and she swore it was due to her lack of clothes, but her excuses fell short when the sudden urge to vomit hit.

  Flashes of scalpels, needles, doctors’ eyes peeking over medical masks collided in her mind’s eye. Lowering her body to the floor, the strangest sensation took hold. It was as if she were a hostage in her own body, but nothing was familiar.

  Her fingers pinched her thigh and she hissed. Very real. Not a dream. Tipping her head back, tears slowly rolled into her hair as she stared at the ceiling light until her vision bleached with white spots.

  She wouldn’t tell her mom. Maybe not even Riley. He’d freak out. She’d tell Rarity and make an appointment—hopefully before the holidays—shit. She’d probably have to wait until after Christmas. But once she had the appointment, she’d have the little cyst removed and then she’d tell Riley, proving there was nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t be able to get mad she’d kept it from him, because it would be nothing. Nothing.

  So much for concentrating on her business. She’d been unable to focus all day. If she didn’t want him to suspect something was wrong, she’d have to be less transparent. He was already mad at her. She should call him and apologize.

  The absolute ridiculousness of her inner debate jerked her back to reality. He was mad because she’d acted like a bitch. She acted like a bitch because she was terrified there might be a lump in her breast. She was now naked, crying on the bathroom floor because there was a lump. No maybe about it.

  “Oh, God...” Her stomach twisted, but there was no nausea, not enough to induce vomiting. Still, everything inside of her wanted to throw up. Not only was vomiting impossible, her tears disappeared. Unable to properly cry, she sobbed and wailed a painful half cry unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The longer it went on the more furious she became that her body wasn’t cooperating in any way. It was as if she no longer had control or a say in anything.

  Unsure how long she sat there holding her body as she half cried, Emma considered all the fears she had yesterday and how small and silly they suddenly seemed.

  She’d been so focused on starting her business and getting it off the ground by the New Year. What if this was her last year? She thought of her parents and Rarity and, hardest of all, Riley. As if an elephant were sitting on her chest, she gasped for air, unable to draw a full breath or shed one fucking tear.

  All she could hear was absolute denial playing through her head as she rocked and whimpered. But the lump was there and no matter how she cried or twisted, she felt it every time.

  It was too much. Her little world coul
dn’t withstand this overwhelming fear, as everything she held dear seemed to be slipping away.

  It took hours to form simple thoughts. She was supposed to be some guru of organization, yet she could barely recall her doctor’s name, was utterly incapable of scheduling an appointment. She was in some state of shock, bordering on paralysis, and no one could help her. So she simply sat and stared.

  The level of bravery needed to move was beyond her capabilities. This wasn’t her life. It had to be a bad dream. Tomorrow she’d wake up and the lump would be gone, all of this a nightmare that seemed so real, but wasn’t.

  Too young. Too happy. Too personal. It was simply too much to be happening to her.

  ****

  Riley was mad at her. She didn’t blame him, but she also didn’t have the energy to justify her cold attitude. Christmas was in less than a week and no one was taking appointments until well after the New Year.

  Emma locked herself in her bedroom all day, claiming to wrap presents, unable to face her roommates, but she hadn’t tied a single bow.

  After only purchasing half the items on her list, she knew she wouldn’t be shopping again. This was supposed to be a fun holiday with Riley. She had so many great gift ideas, yet only got him a few items and a shirt that said Save Ferris.

  Around eight o’clock, she left her room, certain he’d gone to the inn for his shift and heartbroken all the more for the confusion her depression was causing him.

  “It lives,” Rarity teased as she walked down the hall.

  Marla leapt from the bed and ran to greet her, but Emma wasn’t in the mood. Locking herself in the bathroom, she stripped and took a long shower. The lump was the same, only now it hurt, which might have been from her incessant touching, but she wasn’t sure.

  After drying off, Emma wrapped the towel under her arms and brushed her wet hair. Her eyes looked terrible. She’d barely slept and almost every minute she’d been awake she’d cried. The tears she’d been waiting for now wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t go on like this.

  Standing outside of Rarity’s room, she quietly knocked on the door.

  “Yesssss,” Rarity called, being her usual quirky self.

  Emma slid the door open and simply waited in her towel.

  “What’s wrong, toots?” Her friend’s expression turned serious as she climbed off the bed.

  “Can I talk to you?” Emma asked, trying her best not to fall apart.

  “Of course.” She pulled her into the room and they sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t know where to start. Eventually, Rarity asked, “Is this about Riley?”

  She shook her head.

  Rarity gripped her hands. “Did something happen at work?”

  Swallowing, Emma rasped, “I found something.”

  “Where? What is it?”

  “I found...a lump,” she choked. “In my breast.”

  Rarity’s hold tightened. Her lips parted as she blinked and whispered, “How long ago?”

  “The other day, but it’s real. It just showed up and now...” The pain in her chest expanded, engulfing her heart and she tensed.

  Rarity pulled her into a hug. “Shhh...it’s okay.” Her reassurance seemed intended for both of them. Brushing a hand over her damp hair, she looked into her eyes and asked, “Can I see it?”

  Emma nodded and sat back. Her hands trembled as she unknotted the towel. Her throat hurt from holding in her sobs. Lowering the damp terrycloth to her waist, she sat up and pointed to where the lump was. “It’s right here.”

  Rarity squinted as she looked closely at the area. “It’s red. Is it tender?”

  “I keep touching it.”

  She nodded. “Can I feel it?”

  Emma nodded and lifted her arm. Rarity scooted closer and delicately cupped the side of her breast. She massaged the tissue and Emma saw in her eyes the moment she felt the lump.

  “I feel it. Right here. Does that hurt?”

  “The skin’s a little sore, but the lump doesn’t really feel like anything.”

  Rarity lowered her hand. “Are there any more?”

  “Not that I felt.”

  She exhaled roughly. “Does Riley know?”

  Emma swallowed and dropped her face into her hands as she moaned through the incredible tension tying her inside in knots. The pressure in her chest was so extreme she could barely breathe. “I can’t tell him. What if it’s...” The word made her want to vomit. She couldn’t say it out loud no matter how she tried. Her mind could barely think it. “...something bad?”

  “What if it’s nothing?”

  “But what if it’s something?”

  Rarity hugged her and pulled the towel over her shoulders, carefully covering her up. “Emma, people have abnormalities all the time. You need to see a specialist before you assume anything. And I really think you need to tell my brother.”

  “I can’t,” she choked.

  “Emma, how would you feel if Riley discovered an abnormality in his body and kept it from you? He loves you. You need to tell him.”

  “I don’t want him to worry over nothing.”

  Rarity’s shoulders slumped. “Toots, what do you think he’s doing now? For two days you’ve done nothing but mope around like some zombie. You’re not even speaking to each other. I know you’re scared, but you’re also scaring him. He thinks he did something wrong and it’s killing him.”

  Her stomach twisted and her shoulders tightened as if she were going to be sick. It was the same nauseous reflex she’d been tolerating for days, but nothing ever came of it. It was just emotion and—

  She quickly covered her mouth and forced herself to hold it together.

  Rarity stood. “You okay? You need to go to the bathroom?”

  She just needed a min—her shoulders locked again and Rarity flew into action, reaching for a wastepaper basket and quickly pulling her hair out of her face. Emma didn’t have time to prepare as everything in her upset stomach rushed out.

  The second it was over she started to sob. “I’m so sorry, Rarity.”

  “Shhh. It’s fine. You’re upset.” She handed her a bottle of water and Emma drank. “Let’s get you dressed and I’ll make you some soup. We’ll put on Love Actually and snuggle and talk. Sound good?”

  Shaking, Emma nodded, unsure how this had become her life when three days ago everything was perfect—she just hadn’t realized that’s what perfect looked like at the time.

  ****

  It had to be after two in the morning, but Emma wasn’t tired. Confiding in Rarity was the best decision she’d made. Her stomach was somewhat settled and they were curled up on the couch watching reruns of SNL.

  “What if I have to have a mastectomy?” she wondered aloud.

  “Stop.”

  “I’m serious, Rarity. Don’t act like that’s an impossible outcome.” No matter how much it seemed like an impossibility in her world, forcing herself to ask the question somehow braced her for the possibility.

  “You’re borrowing trouble, Emma.”

  “Then loan me some courage. Please. Because whether I discuss it or not, I can’t stop the horrible thoughts from flinging around my head. I feel like I’m losing my mind and I have no idea how I’ll survive myself over the next two weeks of waiting.”

  Her friend sighed. “Then you have a mastectomy, Emma. Saving you is more important than saving your breasts. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded, needing to hear that. Rarity knew nothing more than she did on these matters, but somehow her no nonsense way was the balm Emma needed to get through the hysteria. Her mind was a scary place at the moment.

  “It’s just so hard. Once this is over, I may never be the same. Even if it turns out to be nothing, I’ve never been this scared in my life.”

  Rarity looked at her and rubbed her hand. “Honey, you’re already different. This is daunting. It’s so terrifying, the scare alone changes everything. This morning I was pissed off you used the rest of the cream cheese. Do you know how stupid tha
t makes me feel now? You go ahead and use all the cheese you need. We’ll get more.”

  She sniffled and squeezed her hand, drawing immeasurable comfort from her touch. “I love you, Rarity.”

  Studying her, Rarity slowly smiled and held out her arms. Emma slid into them and hugged her. “I love you too, toots.” She kissed her head and squeezed, good and tight the way real hugs were meant to be.

  The door opened and they froze. Emma turned in Rarity’s arms and faced Riley. His eyes, taking in the moment, turned cold and distrustful. “What the fucks going on?”

  “Riley—”

  “I’m not talking to you, Rarity.”

  Emma frowned at him, disappointed he’d speak to his sister that way. “Riley, come inside and sit down.”

  Mouth tight, a mistrusting glint in his eyes, he dropped his keys in the bowl by the door and stepped into the living room.

  Rarity stood and placed the blanket over Emma’s legs. “I’ll let you two talk. Goodnight, toots.” She kissed her head. “Come on, Marla.” The dog happily followed Rarity to what she now considered her bed.

  As soon as the door shut, Riley spoke. “Feeling better?”

  “Not really. Could you not be nasty right now?”

  “Could you maybe tell me what the hell’s been going on? You haven’t said more than two words to me in over three days. Every time I try to touch even your hand you shove me away then I come home and you’re curled up with my sister like long lost lovers.”

  She deserved that after not offering any explanation for her horrible mood of late. Drawing in a deep breath, she deliberately released it and looked at her lap. “Riley, I might be sick.”

  He stilled, his tense body shifting with jerky motions. “W—what?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’ve called the doc—”

  His entire demeanor changed and suddenly he was sitting beside her, pulling her close. “What kind of sick?”

  He smelled so good. She pressed her face to his shirt and breathed. “I don’t know anything yet. I haven’t been to a doctor and no one can get me in until the second.”