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As I look at myself in the mirror, it’s hard to believe that cancer is ravaging the inside of my body; the outside has never looked better. I’ve got a lovely tan color on my skin, new freckles across my cheeks, no under eye circles or bags, and white lines marking where my swimsuit begins and ends. I’ve even let my hair do its own thing, for once not caring about the natural curl that usually drives me crazy and it looks great.
I feel happy… so alive… for the first time in… a really long time. Aside from the slight headache this morning from yesterday’s alcohol consumption there’s not another ache or pain in sight. Health-wise I feel normal. So how can it be that I’ve been given this diagnosis? Truth is, it would be easy to believe that I’m fine and my diagnosis never happened and it was all a horrible mistake.
I actually woke up with a smile on my face this morning. I barely remember falling asleep last night. Oliver and I were once again incredibly tired after our day full of sun and alcohol that we napped when we got back to the room after showers, watched some TV and went down to one of the resort restaurants to grab a bite to eat. Afterward, I happily collapsed into bed easily finding my dreams
When I woke, my rustling also woke Oliver. Over breakfast he shared that he has a surprise for me today.
“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”“I’m not telling you, but wear something bright in color.”
“Bright?”
“Yes. Do you have something?” The items I packed quickly run through my mind and I nod.
“Good. Can you be ready to go in an hour?”
“No problem,” I tell him but don’t move.
He smiles, “I’m not telling you a thing.”
I give him my best pout, “Not even a hint?”
“Nope.”
With a sigh I dramatically gather what I need and go to the bathroom, his laughter following me.
Now, I’m standing here in the bathroom staring at myself feeling anxious and full of self-doubt. It’s dumb, but I can’t shake these nerves. I’ve known Oliver for practically my whole life. I’m more comfortable with him than I am anyone else. He knows me better than anyone. So what’s up with this?
Even though conversation has never been a problem between us I worried about conversing with him while we were away together. I mean, coming up with things to discuss while having a quick dinner after not seeing each other in a while is easy. Continually having something to talk about over a few days makes me nervous. Maybe in part because I worry that if conversation stalls the one thing I don’t want to discuss will be brought up. So, before leaving home, I looked up topics of conversation on the web. Up popped more articles than I imagined existed with long lists of things one can ask a ‘guy you like’. Feeling like a teenager, it didn’t take long to lose myself in a black hole of websites that offered all kinds of suggestions. Ideas ranged from ‘What are your dreams?’ to ‘What’s your favorite sexual position?’ Luckily, there were some good things in between so I have nothing to be nervous about. I’m equipped with all kinds of things we can talk about and everything will be fine. At least that’s what I tell myself yet again.
Feeling a boost of confidence I decide to quit stalling and leave the bathroom. As if reading my mind, there’s a knock on the door, “You about ready?”
“Yes, absolutely.” With one last look at myself, and an additional quick and silent pep talk, I give my hair a quick fluff and then walk out. “Ready.”
Oliver rises from the chair where he was waiting and I admire how handsome he looks. Dressed in a white dress shirt rolled up at his forearms and a pair of navy blue shorts and sandals with a face full of content; he looks relaxed and happy. The white brings out the color he’s gotten from the sun and his eyes sparkle.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me and if I didn’t know better I would swear the heat I feel on my cheeks after his words is because I’m blushing. But that can’t be; I don’t blush.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I smile and then falter. “Well, not that you look beautiful, but handsome. You look handsome.”
His smile widens, “Give me just a second and we’re out of here.”
He escapes into the bathroom and as soon as the door closes I exhale and sit on the edge of the chair he vacated. What the hell is wrong with me? If I think I’m acting weird, I know he’s going to realize the same and how embarrassing would that be? This is Oliver. My Oliver. I know I haven’t spent a lot of time with him in a long while, but good lord I’ve known him for ages. Whatever this is… it needs to stop. When the door swings back open I hop up and plaster a smile onto my face. “Ready?”
He nods and holds the door open for me, “Let’s go!”
After taking the elevator down and walking to the lobby, the concierge calls a shuttle for us. So now I know how we will reach the mystery destination. While I wait mostly patiently, Oliver speaks with the concierge quietly. The shuttle pulls up to the curb and Oliver holds the door open for me before getting in next to me and we take off. The driver never asks where we’re headed which is strange, but I’m assuming Oliver handled it.
While he makes menial conversation with the driver, I enjoy the sights. The blue of the ocean appears as far as the eye can see, beautiful tropical plants and flowers are everywhere and tourists immersed in conversation walk or ride bikes from place to place. I see cars pulled into a beach head and smile at the surfboard tucked under a man’s arm. When we drive through a busy part of town I enjoy seeing all kinds of restaurants, shops and even grocery stores and a church, though the architecture and building material is different from what I’m used to seeing. Hawaii feels so exotic that it’s hard to remember that we’re still in the US.
Before long, we pull up to a building and Oliver smiles then practically shouts, “We’re here,” like a child.
The driver gets out of the car immediately and opens the door for me and takes my hand to help me out, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, miss.”
Oliver pays him before turning to me, but I’m already distracted by the words I see on the front of the building and turn to him in disbelief. “You saw this on my list.”
He shrugs, “They don’t have one back home. I know they’re your favorite.”
