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Chapter Twenty-three
Finley
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“So the doc said youcan go home tomorrow?” Claire asks into the phone, sounding even more excited than I feel.
“He said the initial scans look good, and as long as I don’t respond too negatively to the chemo treatment this afternoon, he sees no reason why I can’t be released as early as tomorrow morning.”
“Oh my gosh, Fin! That’s amazing!” her voice singsong.
“It is,” I agree.
“Then why don’t you sound more excited?”
“Because it means I have to get through chemo first.” I exhale loudly.
“You’ll be fine. I know the first round was rough, but look at it this way, it can’t get any worse.”
“You say that now and then it will,” I scold.
“Don’t be so superstitious. Me saying something doesn’t mean the opposite will happen.”
“How do you know?”
“I tell you what, how about I come sit with you during your session today?”
“I thought you had to work.”
“I do, but I have some sick time saved up. It will make me feel better knowing you don’t have to sit there alone.”
“I did just fine the first time on my own. You don’t have to come.”
“I want to,” she insists. “What time are they coming to get you?”
“Three o’clock, I think.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there before then.”
“Okay,” I agree, honestly feeling a million times better knowing Claire will be there with me.
“See you then.”
“Okay. See you then.”
——
“Ido not get the fascinationwith this dude. He’s not even that good looking,” Claire says, looking down at the magazine in her lap.
“Who?” I ask, looking over to see who she’s talking about.
“Jason Momoa.” She holds the article up.
“Have you lost your ever loving mind?” I look at her like she has five heads. “Jason Momoa is gorgeous.”
“I beg to differ.” She curls her nose.
“Watch an episode of Game of Thrones with him in it and then tell me he’s not the most mouthwatering thing you’ve ever seen.”
