They take his car to the drug store that’s just a few miles from the office. On the way, there’s a stoplight and he turns to her with this thoughtful look about him. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and then turns down the radio.
He says, “What would you do if you thought you might have cancer?”
She shakes her head, “I don’t know…Panic,” and she laughs, trying to shake the solemn feeling out of this imminent conversation.
But he’s giving her this look, his body turned almost completely towards her, like he wants to know something important about her. Like he’s ready to just listen. And the stoplight’s a long one so she takes in a breath and looks out the window and thinks about the question.
“I would be scared, obviously. Not knowing something like that would drive me crazy. But I think I would just, I don’t know, think about my life.”
“How so?” He glances up at the light before turning his full attention back to her.
“Just- Did I do what I wanted to? Have I enjoyed life? Am I happy? Those sort of things.”
He nods. “So if you were in Kevin’s position. If you were waiting to find out if you had cancer right now, what would your answer to those questions be?”
He has this ability to make her feel like she’s the most important person in the world to him. He makes her feel like every word she says is being heard and being appreciated and being understood. It’s the sort of feeling that right now makes her twist in her seat and pull at the seatbelt because she’s sure that it’s choking her.
“God, I can’t even-”
He puts a hand out to stop her there. “Don’t think about it. Just the first answer that comes to your mind.”
She looks down at his hand, floating in midair. His fingers are stretched out in this way and she doesn’t remember his skin being so tanned and smooth looking. He doesn’t move it back right away and she thinks about holding onto it. Because that’s really what she’d do if someone told her she might have cancer. She’d grab onto his hand and she wouldn’t let go, because she’d feel safe then.
She moves her eyes back to his face and his eyes are always so clear and open.
She wishes the light would change already.
“Come on, Pam. Answer the question.”
She breathes in deeply and lets it out. “Fine. My answer would probably be no.”
She wishes his face didn’t do what it just did when she said that.
So she quickly adds, “I mean, I’m young, you know? I haven’t really done anything yet and-”
His voice is so quiet she almost doesn’t hear it even in the silence of his car, “You’re not happy?”
She presses her lips together, feels her throat tightening and it’s not the fact that maybe she really isn’t happy. It’s the fact that he cares enough about it to react like this that’s making the tears burn her eyes as she turns toward the window.
She doesn’t look at him and she only knows that the light turns green when she hears his foot slide from the brake to the accelerator.
When he pulls the parking brake up, she starts going through his glove compartment, looking for a tissue. He puts a hand on her arm and reaches behind her seat, revealing a box of tissues. She takes two and wipes her eyes.
Neither of them says a word about it.
In the store, he jokes around with her and she laughs and he smiles. In the store, she watches him lean over the shopping cart. In the store, she thinks that she could be happy.
Author's Chapter Notes:
