Afraid To Lose Her

What? Cancer? Sherri tried to find words to say but couldn’t seem to find any. Instead, she shook her head until the doctor put a hand on hers. “Like I said. Most turn out to be nothing, a cyst. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Okay.”

A nurse poked her head into the room. “Ron says he can take her in about an hour. And she’s got an army wanting to see her out in the waiting room.”

Sherri closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Mama.”

“I can go get her so that she can accompany you up to radiology if you’d like.”

Sherri shook her head. As comforting as the thought was of having Mama next to her while they ran tests, she had to be strong and do this on her own. “No. I don’t want her to know anything yet. But I do want to see her before.” She paused. “And Dez.”

Dr. Sprader nodded. “I’ll send her back. And she’ll only know what you want to tell her.”

The doctor left, and Sherri collapsed back onto the gurney. Chances are the lump Dr. Sprader had found was nothing. But what if it wasn’t?

* * *

THE ER DOCTOR entered the waiting room and scanned faces until she found his. She gave a soft smile and approached where he stood among the many members of the Lopez family. “She’s asking to see you and her mother.”

Dez reached around and brought Perla Lopez forward. The woman grasped the doctor’s hand. “How is she?”

“She’s going to be fine, Mrs. Lopez. If you follow me, I’ll take you back to see her.”

Dez frowned at this. “When will she be ready to go home?”

“There’s some tests I’d like to run first before we release her.” She wound around the various beds and rooms before taking them back to a trauma area. She opened the door and led them both inside then quietly left.

Sherri lay on the gurney, her left arm over her eyes, which she dropped to her side and held out to her mother. “I’m going to be fine, Mama.”

Perla rushed to her left side and pulled her into an embrace, tears streaming from her eyes. “Desmond said that you were okay, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.”

“It’s okay.” Sherri winced but didn’t let go of her mother. “I’m okay.”

Dez touched her foot still in a black boot. “They let you keep the bullet as a souvenir?”

Her eyes rose to his, and she shook her head. “No bullet. Passed right through. Just like the paramedic said.”

“She said that when you were unconscious.”

Sherri shrugged. “I heard her say it, though. I’ll have to take it easy, but other than that I’m good to go. What we need to do is figure out who tipped off our drug runners that we were coming.”

“There’s time for that later. The important part is for you to get better. How are you going to pitch your killer curveball this summer if you pull out your stitches?” He felt better talking about the coed softball team they cocaptained rather than the chance he could have lost her earlier. Easier to joke around than admit that he’d almost choked on his fear. He needed her more than he had realized, wanted her in a way he hadn’t known before. Pushing that thought aside, he leaned against one wall, his hands behind his back to avoid doing something stupid like touching her to make sure she was okay. “We’re not going to lose out to the Detroit Cop Union again. You need to be in fighting shape.”

She paled but nodded. “I will be.”

“Good.”

Perla pressed a kiss to Sherri’s forehead. “Your father, he’s been pacing the waiting room. Can I send him back?” When Sherri nodded, Perla looked up to Dez. “Would you mind going to get him?”

“Actually, Mama, I need to talk to Dez alone for a moment. Work stuff. Do you mind?”

Perla kissed Sherri again then left the room. Dez raised an eyebrow at Sherri. “You want to talk work stuff?”

“No. The doctor found something, and I don’t want Mama to know. Not yet.” She touched her chest above the white gauze that covered her wound. “A lump.”

Dez took a step forward and grasped the bed rail to keep from falling. What was she saying? “What kind of lump?”

“She doesn’t know, so that’s why she’s running more tests. Dez, I’m...” She broke off and reached out to touch his hand. “What if it’s cancer?”

He clasped her hand in his. “What if it’s not?”

She swallowed, and she looked so pale. As if the blood had drained from her face and out her wound. He noticed the IV that pumped blood into her, so that couldn’t be it. She brought her eyes up to his. “But what if it is? It’ll change everything.”

“Then we’ll deal with it if it is.” He squeezed her hand. “But chances are it’s not. What did the doctor think?”

“Better safe than sorry. And she did say the chances are small.”

He gave her a smile, hoping it showed her that he was more confident than he felt. “There you go. Stop worrying about the worst-case scenario and focus on the greater possibility that it’s nothing.”

Sherri let out a breath through her nose, and her nostrils flared. “Before we went into that warehouse, you remember what you said? Well, I got a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

THE HOUR UNTIL she could get into her mammogram turned into two. She sent her family home with promises to call when she was released. She’d even said goodbye to Dez, who watched her with a dark emotion shining from his chocolate-brown eyes. She hated to have dumped her thoughts on him, but that was what they did. They shared everything, and this was just one more thing to add to the pile.

She’d been changed into a light pink smock that tied in the front. She could lift her right shoulder a little, but the pain from her side limited her motion. The ER doctor quickly assisted her. Sherri looked at her. “You don’t have to stay with me, you know. Your job ended once I was cleaned and sutured.”

Dr. Sprader didn’t look at her but fastened the ties around Sherri’s side to keep the smock in place. “I know, but I remember this. Waiting for tests, and then results. And all the time wondering what did I do to deserve it?” She lifted her blue-gray eyes to meet Sherri’s. “I don’t want you to go through it alone like I did, Ms. Lopez. Besides, I’m off duty and can do what I want.”

“I’ll be fine. And it’s Sherri.”

Dr. Sprader took a deep breath. “I’m April.”

They walked out of the dressing room and into the waiting area that was painted and carpeted in various shades of pink. April gestured Sherri to a chair and grabbed a magazine. “They’re running behind so we could be waiting for a while.”

Sherri took the magazine and flipped through it, not able to focus on the images or words. Instead, her mind buzzed with possible outcomes. Finally, she dropped the magazine back onto the table and glanced around. Another woman in a similar pink smock gave her a tremulous smile, which Sherri tried to return, but found it too much of an effort. “When were you diagnosed?”

April looked up from her own magazine. “About a year ago. I was lucky since they found it early. But I have friends who weren’t so fortunate.”

“What happens next?”

“After the mammogram, a doctor will analyze the images then maybe nothing. I’ll take you back to the ER, and you can go home.” April touched her hand as if to reassure her this would be the result.

But Sherri was a realist, if nothing else. She could focus on what she hoped would be the outcome, but she needed to know all the facts. “And if it’s not nothing?”

“An ultrasound, and maybe a biopsy. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Biopsy meant more needles. Sherri gave a small shudder. “And then?”