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ChapterEleven
Wednesday, June 1st,was the first day of summer vacation for students at Nantucket High. Jeremy took the day off from the Nantucket Courthouse with a scheme in mind: he would pack an elaborate picnic of all of Sarah’s favorite snacks and drive them out to the Madaket Beach, on the western edge of the island. In his mind, they would spend the afternoon in the sun, hashing out their emotional toils and making peace as they crunched on crackers, slathered bread with cheese, and sipped high-calorie juices.Honey, neither of us wants you to go to a clinic. Let’s figure this out right now. Here. Together.
But when Jeremy’s alarm clock blared out at seven-thirty that morning, his legs seized and screamed with impossible pain. He squeezed the sheets of his bed. His eyes clenched as he waited for the wave to pass. When it did, another came, chasing after it and leaving him exhausted, sweat dripping into the mattress.
What the hell is wrong with me?
It had been a long time since Jeremy’s legs had felt so impossibly tender.Could he walk?He was suddenly heavy with terrible images of those long-ago days when just a walk down the hallway had left him breathless. He thrashed his hand across his nightstand, hunting for his phone.
Sarah picked up on the second ring. He had a hunch that her hunger didn’t allow her to sleep much, if at all.
“Sarah.” He was breathless, as though he’d just run a mile. “Sarah, I need you in here. Please.”
A second later, Jeremy’s bedroom door creaked open to reveal his very thin daughter, her eyes enormous and tucked back into her head. “Daddy?” She sounded petrified.
The sight of Sarah relieved Jeremy’s pain for a moment. Shaking, he lifted his frame and tapped his toes against the ground. “Honey, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Can you walk?” Sarah whispered.
Jeremy swallowed, suddenly terrified that his years of physical therapy and training had washed away in a split second. He put weight on his legs and rose up, steadying himself with a hand against the wall.
“We should go to the doctor.” Sarah’s voice was harsh.
Jeremy felt the images of their perfect day slipping through his fingers. Today was supposed to fix everything. A shoot of pain rocketed through him, and he closed his eyes against it, trying to ride it out.Men were supposed to take whatever pain they had and bury it in the back of their minds. Weren’t they?
Sarah disappeared and returned with Jeremy’s tennis shoes and a fresh pair of socks, retrieved from the laundry room. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”
The pain had a mind of its own, diminishing for a good five minutes before returning with a sharp vengeance. Jeremy inched toward the front door as Sarah tip-toed beside him. Her ankles looked like they belonged to a child.
Sarah drove in silence, her hands clutching the steering wheel at ten-and-two, just like Jeremy had taught her. Jeremy could count on one hand the number of times Sarah had driven him. A part of him wanted to point out that she was a fearful driver, which so often resulted in accidents. Another part of him told his mind to shut up. Now wasn’t the time.
Doctor Dodger’s office had recently been painted a salmon color. Sarah muttered, “It’s horrendous,” as Jeremy greeted the receptionist, grateful that he’d found a moment without so much pain.It allowed him to speak.
“The doctor can squeeze you in between patients in about twenty minutes,” the receptionist told him, furrowing her brow with worry. “You say you’re experiencing intense pain?”
“It comes and goes,” Jeremy affirmed.
“But it’s debilitating,” Sarah interjected, standing up for her father.
The receptionist typed out something on Jeremy’s computer file and asked that they take a seat in the waiting room. Sarah and Jeremy limped over, with Sarah’s hand cupping Jeremy’s elbow.You haven’t eaten in days. How do you expect to hold me up?He wanted to ask her.
The waiting room had a wide-screen television across one-half of the far wall, surrounded on either side with exotic-looking plants. The green of the plants balanced out the salmon color. On the screen, an entertainment and gossip channel echoed back the news of the past few weeks.
“Ugh,” Sarah grumbled at the screen. “I don’t understand why people are so obsessed with Hollywood gossip.”
Jeremy winced as another pain shot up his leg. “You sound like my daughter.”
Sarah gave him a rare yet genuine laugh. “It’s like, what do we care what Tom Cruise wore to Cannes? Or what mess Tom Hanks’ son, Chet, made now?”
Jeremy’s eyes watered with pain. “Seriously. The last time I saw a magazine cover, I saw Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez on the cover! What year is it?”
“Oh gosh. I guess that was before my time,” Sarah quipped.
Jeremy remembered Sarah’s mother, Piper, her belly enormous with a baby and a gossip magazine spread out across.Honey, do you know what Gwyneth Paltrow called her child? Guess! It’s insane.
The television gave them a well-deserved commercial break as Jeremy’s pain subsided. He leaned his head against the chill of the wall behind him as advertisements for sliced cheese, breakfast cereal, and running sneakers sped across the screen.
“Can’t believe how many commercials are on TV these days,” Jeremy groaned.
