John got home from work to find Barbara on the phone with a concerned look on her face, in an almost a trance-like state.

“Okay, well let me know if there’s any change, otherwise I’ll fly up Saturday. Tell mom I’ll call her in the morning.”

John grabbed a Budweiser from the fridge and listened as he popped the top off and took a sip.

“Yeah, I’ll be all right,” she said into the receiver. “John’s just got home.” She glanced at him, but her expression didn’t change until she replaced the phone into its cradle and immediately broke down crying.

John immediately rushed over and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He tried to swivel her round, but she wouldn’t turn and sobbed uncontrollably for what seemed like an hour.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’ll be all right. Tell me what’s happened, Babe.”

She continued crying, her sobs uninterrupted by his question. He patted her back, trying to sooth her.

John felt powerless as Barbara’s tears yanked at his heart. He hadn’t done anything and therefore couldn’t apologize, although for some strange reason, he wanted to. They were motionless, leaning forward as Barbara supported herself against a kitchen chair. John was aware of every breath she took.

When she finally did try and speak, she’d given herself the hiccups.

“Breathe, Baby,” John said, squeezing her. “Just breathe.”

He sat Barbara down on the sofa. She now cried into his shoulder, interrupted by the occasional blow of her nose or wiping of her eyes with a tissue.

“My mom …” she gasped.

She fought for air. Her face was a mixture of red puffy eyes, tears, and snot. Watching her like this made John feel sick.

“… cancer.”

Oh, fuck.

He pulled her close to his shoulder again and hugged her tight.

“I’m so sorry …” was all he could say. He must have repeated it five or six times while trying to think of something else, something more appropriate. Numerous things went through his head.

“She’ll be all right?”—I don’t even really know what’s wrong, except that six letter word, CANCER … “You’ll be all right?”—she wouldn’t want to hear that right now … “Your mom’s a strong woman?”—I guess we are about to find out how strong. “We’re all going to die some time, it’s what we do with it while we’re here”—philosophy wouldn’t be welcome yet.

Frustrated that the right words wouldn’t come, he kept quiet and listened as Barbara tried to explain the details. Her mother had acute cancer of the lymph nodes. The diagnosis was serious, but treatable. Further tests were needed to see how far it had spread, but if they were lucky, it was containable.

* * *

Barbara and John flew to Boston that Friday night and stayed with her father. He was a ghost of the man John had seen at the wedding 12 months before. John didn’t really know him well enough to be truly supportive, and unfortunately he must have felt the same, because he insisted on trying to make John feel at home.

They went to the hospital first thing the next morning. On entering her room, it struck John how pale and weak Barbara’s mom looked. She had only gone into see her doctor a few weeks before, when she’d been unable to shake the flu. A blood test had raised the alarm and they brought her in for more tests straight away. Barbara sat on one side, holding her mom’s hand and back tears while her father and John stood.

Barbara’s mom now tried to fuss over John with her available energy.

“Why don’t you go out and enjoy the day, dear?” she said, interrupted by a spasm of coughing. It was alarming for John to see, and more so for Barbara, John assumed. “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here with me.”

“I’m fine, thanks Marion.”

John had lost both his father and grandmother, yet had never watched a person die. His father was sudden—he remembered coming home from school to a crying mother.His grandmother—the person who was closest to him in the world—was a bit more comprehendible because she had gone in her sleep and John had seen her taken out on an ambulance stretcher with a sheet draped over her. There was no illness, no warning signs, nothing. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. Both deaths had left holes inside his chest; cavities unlike anything he’d felt before. But at least he didn’t have to watch it happen, possibly like Barbara would have to now. His heart ached at the thought.

“Go on Barbara … take him somewhere decent for lunch with your father. I don’t want you stuck in a hospital.”

John was numb. They all were. Nevertheless, he refused to leave. Instead he went and found two chairs for him and Barbara’s dad. Barbara and her father fussed over the patient as Barbara’s mother shooed them off. John then observed the conversation between the three of them, feeling like a bit of a trespasser. While her dad was seemingly content to sit there with Marion, Barbara kept trying to make her mom more comfortable.

“I’m fine, dear. Please go and enjoy the day.”

 “You’re not, Mom,” Barbara said. “We need to get some more pillows to prop you up properly.”

“I’m fine.”

Marion coughed and had to fight to overcome a spasm.

“I’ll get the nurse,” said Barbara.

“Let her be, Barbara,” her Dad said softly.

“Mom.”

“That’s right, Barbara. I’m not going to die just yet. I’ll beat this. Why don’t the three of you go out and grab a bite to eat? Get some fresh air.”

The two women stared at each other. The strength of each was obvious despite Marion’s illness.

“Good idea,” John said to Barbara. “You and your father go and I’ll stay with Marion.”

“Don’t be silly, John, they should take you out somewhere by the water,” Barbara’s mother said.

After another 10 minutes of arguing, John stayed with Barbara’s mom while her dad and Barbara got a quick lunch from the hospital cafeteria.

Marion and John sat there in silence to start with while each thought of something to say.

“It looks like a nice day out there,” she said.

“Yeah, the sun is nice and warm.”

“How’s it been in New York?”

“It’s been great,” said John, not that he really knew given the hours he’d been putting in at work.

They fell into silence again, interrupted by Marion coughing. John stood up, ready to help, not having a clue what he could do. She stopped and he sat back down.

“How about children, John? I’m sure you’d make a great father and I know Barbara will be a wonderful mother.”

“You’re right. She will. We haven’t started trying yet, but it’s definitely in our future. I guess we’ll have to start thinking seriously about it soon.”

“You can’t plan everything. You never know what’s around the corner.”

“That’s the truth. So tell me, how are you feeling?”

“Fine. I’m not in any pain yet, and I still have my hair.”

“I meant with the diagnosis.”

“We are all going to die sometime, John. If God has decided this is my time, then so be it. Who am I to whine?”

“Many would.”

“The more I read about it I am learning it’s an evil disease. It really is. But complaining won’t help.”

Marion starting coughing again. A deep phlegmy rasp, which she couldn’t shake.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. Just look after my daughter, there is nothing else,” she said and smiled furtively.

“I’ll do that,” John said with a warm smile.

Barbara’s sister and brother-in-law walked in with their teenage children. They all said hello and fussed over their mother, much as Barbara had done earlier. Just leave her the hell alone, John felt like saying. He felt awkward and out of place again, especially without Barbara.

15 minutes later, Barbara and her Dad returned.

Barbara’s mother repeated her fuss over John being cooped up in the hospital.

“You should go and I’ll meet you back at the house this afternoon. Around four or five?” Barbara suggested to John.

“Are you sure? I’m happy to stay,” he lied.

“Go out and enjoy some of the day,” Barbara’s dad said.

While he considered what to do, he felt the weight of the clan’s eyes on him.

“Okay,” he said, nodding, wondering how to say goodbye. “Call me if you need anything,” John whispered to Barbara and gave her a kiss. He waved to everyone else awkwardly and walked out feeling as if he was deserting his new team.

Walking along corridors, trying to find an exit, John was unsure of what to do with himself, but he knew he needed to eat.

Coming across a medical station, he made eye contact with an attractive nurse in a white, gray, and blue uniform, with long brown hair flowing over her shoulders.

He smiled and she grinned back.

“You wouldn’t know where I’d go around here for a good meal would you?”

“I’d go down to the harbor. There are some good places down there.”

A decent clam chowder, thought John.

John looked at her again and noticed a sparkle in her eye. She was about 25, John thought.

“Okay Thanks. Do you have the name of a good place?”

“Romeo’s Pizza is just over the bridge in East Boston.”

“How about for seafood?”

“Oh, I’d try Fresh on Long Wharf. It’s a little pricey though.”

John followed her directions through the maze out and grabbed a cab to the harbor. He felt relieved to be outside as he left his guilt behind.

He ate his chowder while sipping a glass of red wine and reading the Boston Globe, followed by the Wall Street Journal, weekend edition. After finishing both papers he called for the bill and asked for the nearest movie theatre.

Walking there, with no real sense of direction or bearings, he felt every bit the tourist. It wasn’t quite an out-of-body experience, but it wasn’t far from it. John often traveled with work, but he was always there in a suit and with a purpose. Having time to kill in an American city, which wasn’t New York, was a new experience. John traversed through a park, part of the city’s emerald necklace of greenery, to a theatre and sat through three hours of Titanic. It had been out for three months now, and John had been read how much it was grossing at the box office. It was staggering that one movie was projected to bring in over $1 billion dollars.

When he emerged, he turned on his phone and had a voicemail from Barbara. He called her back.

“We’re home. Where are you? What have you been doing?”

John filled her in.

She was silent.

“I didn’t know how else to occupy myself. I didn’t have keys to the house, so I couldn’t wait for you there.”

“You could have taken them with you, if you wanted to come back here.” Her tone underscored a hint of judgment.

“I’ll grab a cab and come back now.”

“Okay.”

“I imagine you’ve had a roller coaster of a day.”

“You could say that.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

John wasn’t sure if she slept that night, but to the extent she did, Barbara silently cried herself to sleep in his arms. He achieved not more than four hours himself.

They went back to the hospital the next day and then had a somber family lunch at Barbara’s sister’s while their father stayed at the hospital. Lunch was filled with discussion of their dying mother and silences. Apparently a specialist had seen Marion and ordered some more tests, but it was likely she would start chemo this week.

John went back to the hospital with Barbara and said goodbye to Barbara’s parents before flying back to New York, leaving Barbara behind.