Afraid To Lose Her

Sherri groaned and propped herself up on one elbow. “I’m not in the mood for visitors. Could you tell him I’m sleeping?”

“I won’t lie to him. Not even for you. He came to see you because he’s concerned about you.” Mama’s forehead wrinkled, and she waggled her finger at her. “You’d be so lucky to have him for a husband.”

Sherri swung her legs over the side of the bed and massaged the area where the lump had been. It was still tender after three days, but the doctor had promised she’d be up and around soon. “Dez is a friend, Mama. Nothing more.”

Mama didn’t looked convinced. “I’ve seen how he watches you.”

“You’re imagining things. And besides, that sounds a little creepy.” Mama had to be mistaken. Had to be. Dez was a friend, a good one. There wasn’t anything romantic going on between them. Right? How could there be?

Mama raised one eyebrow at this, but shrugged. “He’s waiting in the living room. We’ll see who watches who.”

Mama shut the bedroom door, and Sherri rose to her feet. She pulled on sweatpants and a zip-up jacket to cover the ratty T-shirt she wore. She hadn’t showered since the surgery—too afraid to get the sutures wet—so she probably looked like a wreck. Not that Dez would care. He’d seen her in bad shape before. Like last summer when they’d played the softball championship game that had gone into extra innings. By the time it was over, they hadn’t just lost the game, she had sweat rolling down her face, her hair was damp and her softball shirt and pants were covered in dirt because she’d slid into home plate.

She opened the bedroom door and ambled down the hall to the living room, where Dez and her dad sat in matching recliners, discussing the Detroit Tigers. Conversation stopped when she entered the room, and Dez stood suddenly and motioned her to the sofa. His eyes never left hers as she walked across the room and took a seat. Dez moved to sit next to her and looked her over. “I would have come sooner, but the captain had me on an assignment and I couldn’t get away. How are you?”

She tried to find the words, but unable to, she merely shrugged. Dez smiled at that and smoothed her hair away from her eyes. She backed up at his touch. He frowned and dropped his hand into his lap. “Cap can’t wait for you to come back.”

Yes, let’s focus on work rather than whatever it was that swirled around them. “There’s been developments on the raid? Tell me.”

He glanced at her dad and leaned in closer. “The ballistics report came back with interesting anomalies.”

She’d had a feeling that would be the outcome. Call it a hunch or whatever, but she’d suspected that there had been something shady going on. At least, shadier than the drug operation. “The ammo belonged to one of us, right?”

“Department-issued bullets were found on scene. And not all of them came from our guns.” He peered into her face and frowned. “Are you sure you’re well enough to talk shop?”

“I’m recuperating, not dead.” She could talk without hurting something. “What about the tests run on the drugs we found on scene?”

Dez leaned closer to her and dropped the volume of his voice. “Consistent with what we found before. It’s the same kind of dope, so the same dealers.”

Sherri went and stood at the large bay window, scanning the front yard. “It’s coming in right under our noses,” she said. She turned back to Dez. “And they’re getting help from one of us.”

He frowned at this. “Someone with Border Patrol?”

She’d bet money that it wasn’t one of their team specifically, but she couldn’t rule it out. Good people did dumb things all the time. “Uh-huh. I’d stake my reputation and job on it. What’s your gut telling you?”

“That we still have more questions than answers. And I don’t want to make any assumptions that could cost us or set our investigation back.”

She sighed. “Something else has been bothering me for the last few days. Giroux said that he knew who had been present at the raid as well as who wasn’t. What if our inside guy didn’t show up that day? Was there anyone expected to have been there who wasn’t?”

Dez pulled out a small notebook and pen and made a note. “That’s good. Maybe our mole wanted to be out of the way of flying bullets and passed on being there. I’ll look into it.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “When are you coming back to work? I’d rather we did this together.”

That was the big question. She was ready for the job, tender muscles or no. She needed to be on this case, on her other cases. What she didn’t need was to be sitting and doing nothing except thinking about what could be happening in her body. She craved the routine of waking up every morning and driving to the office. And part of her feared that Dr. VanGilder would find something that would take that away. That normalcy. “Tuesday afternoon I have my appointment with VanGilder. I’ll have some answers after that, at least.”

“Good. The office isn’t the same without you.”

She shook her head but smiled at this. “I’ve only missed a couple of days.”

Dez grinned and she was struck by how it made him appear so appealing. Attractive. Handsome even. A dimple winked at her from one of his cheeks. “One day too many,” he said.

Pushing those thoughts aside—this was her partner and friend Dez after all—Sherri told him genuinely, “Thanks for coming over.”

Dez glanced around the living room and held up his hands. “Trying to get rid of me already? Your mom promised to feed me.”

Of course she did. Because that was what her mother did, stuffed everyone with food who came through the front door. Sherri wanted, no, needed, time and space to examine how confused she felt about Dez. And she’d have a clearer picture if the man himself wasn’t standing in front of her looking so good.

She brought a hand up to her hair and wished she’d at least washed it in the sink. Not that her appearance had mattered when it came to Dez. Despite Mama’s assertions, she knew he thought of her only in terms of friendship and work.

* * *

TUESDAY’S APPOINTMENT WITH Dr. VanGilder gave Sherri stomach cramps the more she thought about it. She dressed as if she was going to work. A cream blouse, navy jacket and pants. She tried to think of herself as putting on her armor to face whatever dragon still lay before her. If she acted like this was a typical day, then maybe that was how it would turn out.

She drove to her parents’ neighborhood to pick up Mama, who had agreed to take notes while the doctor went over all the test results and made his recommendation for treatment. She pulled her car to the curb and took the tray of coffees with her to the front door. Her father answered and exclaimed when she thrust a bakery bag into his hand. “Thought you could use something sweet.”

He opened the bag, then kissed Sherri’s cheek. “Honey crullers. My favorite.” He pushed the door open wider so that she could enter. “Your madre said she’d call me at work, after you talk to the surgeon, to let me know.”

“I’m sorry you can’t go with us.”

Her dad waved his free hand. “Some stuff a father doesn’t need to know.”

Sherri moved ahead to the kitchen and put the tray of coffees on the counter. She took one of the paper cups and sipped from it. “It’s going to be okay, Dad.”

He watched her, his eyes searching hers. “Trying to convince me? Or yourself?”

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Both maybe.”

They looked at each other for a long while, but didn’t say any more. Instead, her dad pulled a cruller from the bag and offered it to her. She shook her head. “I got them for you,” she told him.

“Gracias.”

Mama entered the kitchen, followed by Abuela. Sherri pointed to the counter. “I brought coffee and crullers, if Dad will share.”

“I don’t think I can eat, mija.” Mama held a hand to her belly. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and my stomach...it is in knots.”

Her dad kissed Mama and hugged her tightly. “Sherri said it’s going to be okay.” He kissed her again. “It will be. No matter what the doctor says.”

Sherri glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get going just in case of rush hour.”

Despite the heavy traffic, they made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Sherri clasped Mama’s hand in hers as they entered the doctor’s office and found seats in the tiny waiting room. Mama held up a small pad and pen. “For notes, just like I promised.”

Thank goodness her mom had remembered, because Sherri wasn’t sure she could remember her own name at the moment. All she could focus on was the beat of her heart. Each breath took an effort, and her skin felt tight as if it would crack and break open with a simple movement.

A nurse opened the inner office door and called Sherri’s name. Sherri rose to her feet and squared her shoulders. Mama nodded and stood, as well.

The next hour was spent discussing test results and the next steps. Sherri’s prognosis wasn’t good. Scans showed cancer peppered throughout her right breast, not just in the lump they’d removed. The biopsy indicated that it was a type of cancer that tended to spread rather than remain localized. Sherri held up her hand. “Wait. What are we talking about here?”

Dr. VanGilder looked up from the medical file and faced her. “I recommend a bilateral mastectomy.”

Sherri brought her arms up to her chest. “Both? But I thought the cancer was only in the right one.”