“Three days.”
Dr. K made another note. “Do you do self-exams often? When was your last one? Did you feel anything unusual then?”
Molly sat with the questions for a moment before answering. Dr. Klein had a full skeleton in the corner of the room. Molly would call him Bones. She wondered if Dr. K would leave her alone for long enough to take a selfie with her new BFF.
“My dad’s mom died of breast cancer, so my mom has been hyper vigilant about checking herself – and getting me to check myself for years. Just in case.”
The older man with salt and pepper hair around his temples nodded, his glasses slipping down his long nose. And despite having her extensive medical history on the forms in front of him, he wrote something else down.
“I check myself every month. I haven’t found anything until a few days ago. It’s not huge by any means, but it was still there the next day, and the next.”
“And today?”
She nodded. That’s why she was there. Dr. K pursed his lips and the lines on his forehead deepened. He examined her, making the almost required and universally expected doctor noises of “hmmm” a couple of times. He scribbled more notes – probably his grocery list since there was only really so much a person could write about another person’s boob. Though it was her left one – her favorite – so it was pretty special.
She was being unkind, he was a good doctor, who was just being thorough taking notes. But the more he wrote, the more she fixated on the unknown, and the more tension crept into her already stiff muscles.
The physical exam didn’t hurt, but it still irked her. The more he pressed against her flesh the more acrimonious she grew toward her own body. She took care of it. She ran three times a week, drank water – okay, fine, ice cubes melting in her drinks didn’t exactly count as water, but shealwaysgot lettuce on her tacos. That had to count for something, right?
He’d asked her something, hadn’t he? He stared at her with warm eyes, waiting for her to answer a question she hadn’t heard. This was it, this was when he’d tell her to lose a few pounds, cut back on drinking, and eat fewer tacos and more kale. It was what every doctor did, right? The professional answer to most problems was shifting some weight and eating healthier.
She shuddered. Over her dead body. Life was too short to deprive yourself of all the fun things it had to offer.
“I want to send you for some tests. We’ll draw some blood and start with a mammogram, then an ultrasound of your breasts to see what’s what. Then we’ll do a biopsy and figure out where to go from there. Do you have any questions?”
Am I going to die?
She shook her head.
“I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to panic until we have more information. There’s every chance it might not be something sinister.”
But there’s also every chance it is.
***
Molly had just gotten back to campus after her trip to the doctors. She pulled up outside her apartment and stared out the windshield, her hands still on the steering wheel. Dr. Klein had said don’t panic, but that was easier to say than to wrangle the warring feelings coursing through her veins. Maybe if she gave the lump a pithy nickname she’d feel less intimidated by it.
A knock on the window startled her and she clutched her chest. Finn gave a small wave before opening the driver door of her car letting all the toasty warm air out into the bitter cold. “Spill.”
“Spill what?” She didn’t meet his gaze because she already knew he didn’t buy it. If he looked into her eyes he’d be like a dog with a bone until she told him what was bothering her. He somehow always saw things in her that no one else seemed to. And when he did, he didn’t let up until she caved and told him what was up.
He crouched down next to her. “Don’t bullshit me. It’s too cold for your stubbornness. Either I’m coming inside for a sandwich, we’re going to the Sugar Bean, or I’m getting in the passenger seat and not moving until I get answers, but Iwillfind out what’s going on with you.”
She sucked in a shaky breath and got out of the car, slamming the door too hard behind her. With a wince, she locked the car and followed Finn up to her apartment in silence. “Cleo? You home?”
Silence greeted her question and her shoulders loosened. They had a lot to talk about, and talking to Finn was going to be difficult enough without having to worry about whatever Cleo overheard. Not to mention, Molly didn’t want to talk about her own problems, especially when he had his own shit to deal with.
It would be easier for her to talk to him about his mom… Molly’s stomach churned. A cowardly move indeed considering Finn was already going through so much. Would bringing up his mom be the thing to push him over whatever breaking point he was edging closer to?
They couldn’t both avoid their problems. She gestured for him to sit at the table. She grabbed a bowl of pasta salad from the fridge, two forks, and two cans of Fresca. Her stomach lurched at the smell of the pasta, but she had to at least pretend to eat something.
“What’s going on, Molly?”
Had she ever seen him so concerned? His usually bright eyes were heavy, his eyebrows were drawn together, and the muscles in his jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth and flexed his jaw. Her heart squeezed. He was worried about her.
Despite the fact he was her brother’s best friend, he’d always made a point of letting her know he was there for her, too, no matter what. She didn’t often take him up on his offer, but whatever he’d seen on her face at the rink that morning was bothering him, and that made her whole body warm.
She swallowed twice, but whatever coated her throat making it hard to get words out wouldn’t budge. “I’m scared to talk to you about it.”
