AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Zoe snorts and rises onto her toes as she feels around for something on the shelf above her line of sight.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us glasses. We’re opening a bottle of wine because you need a drink, so unless you want to pull straight from the bottle, we need something to drink it out of.”
My shoulders sag in relief. A glass of wine sounds incredible right now. Something to dull the debilitating anxiety that’s tightened my chest ever since we got my mom’s prognosis. I join Zoe at the counter and use my extra five inches to reach the glasses she’s working so hard to get. Not that I’m exceptionally tall. My friend is just short at five feet, one inch tall.
“Thanks,” she says, dropping back onto the flats of her feet and heading toward the pantry for a bottle of wine. “I just hate that you’re having to postpone school when it’s already taken you five years to get this far.”
“I couldn’t care less about interior design right about now.”
Zoe nods, cranking the corkscrew into the bottle and removing the seal with a pop. Then she pours me a generous glass and gestures for me to head to the living room couch. I take a swig of the rich, thick liquid, appreciating the bitter tang that promises a quick numbing dose of emotional relief. Then I follow her directions and lead the way to the overstuffed gray loveseat.
“I know you have your pride, but Heidi, maybe now’s the time to think about joining me at Lady Venus. We make good money, and if finances are that tight, stripping could help—even if it’s just temporary. To get your mom through chemo.” Her expression is almost apologetic. She knows how I feel about dancing half-naked in front of drunk, horny men.
Of course, I would never judge her or the girls who are willing to do it. Hats off to anyone with enough confidence to expose themselves like that. But it makes me squeamish. I can’t stop blushing just thinking about it. I haven’t even been to see Zoe at work.
But I need the money.Momneeds the money.And it’s just dancing, isn’t it?
I take another swig of wine, searching deep inside myself for courage. I picture being up on stage wearing lingerie and heels, swinging seductively around a pole. It’s so far from who I am. Sure, I enjoy dancing when Zoe and I go to the clubs. But that’s entirely different from taking off my clothes and subjecting myself to the sexual fantasies of countless strange men.
Draining the last of my glass, I hold it out for a top off. Zoe obliges, pouring me another generous amount of wine without a word.
“Alright,” I say as the alcohol finally starts to hit my bloodstream, giving me the courage I’m so desperately seeking. “Will you introduce me to Howie?”
The strip club manager has been good to his girls, from what I’ve gathered of Zoe’s stories. I suppose, in the end, it’s better to set aside my pride and see it as an opportunity if it will help my mom’s fight with cancer.
Zoe gives a crooked smile, seeming to read the thoughts in my eyes. “We can go in before my shift tomorrow.”
I nod. “Thanks, Zoe.”
2
HEIDI
Six Months Later
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Turner, but the cancer is still growing. See this light-gray mass here on the frontal lobe?”
Dr. Humphreys uses his pen to circle a baseball-sized milky-gray blob on the right side of my mom’s PET scan, and my stomach plummets. Before, it was about the size of a quarter. Even after all that chemo, she’s definitely getting worse.
“I’m afraid chemotherapy isn’t a viable solution.”
“What is?” I ask, my desperation apparent in my voice.
Mom gives my hand a gentle squeeze, assuring me that everything is going to be okay. But it’s not. None of this should be happening. My mom is barely fifty-five. She shouldn’t be dying. It hurts to see her so frail. Even her lips have turned a pale grayish-brown. And her beautiful honey-blonde hair I inherited has all fallen out. Now she wears colorful bandanas to cover up the sad, sparse bristles that are able to grow on her scalp.
She tried the wigs but felt they weren’t her. But without her thick signature locks, she looks so tired and beaten down, it breaks my heart.And now the chemo hasn’t even helped?I hate it. I feel so absolutely useless. All I can do is sit by and watch as the cancer eats away at my mom’s sharp and wonderful mind.
“We can look at alternative options. There’s a trial drug currently available at UCSF. You could apply for that. I think you have a moderately good chance of being accepted into the study, given your specific tumor and its lack of response to treatment.” Dr. Humphreys’s expression is grave as he looks over his glasses at us.
“And how much will that cost?” Mom asks, her voice sounding tired.
“It depends. Insurance wouldn’t likely cover it, but potentially, the program would cover some of the costs.”
“We’ll figure out how to pay for it,” I assure her. Working full-time at Lady Venus has managed to cover her treatment over the last six months. And though finances are tight now that mom has gotten too weak to maintain her job at the flower shop, I can work overtime if I need to.
Finishing up the appointment, we head outside to the little beater of a Honda Civic I have sitting in the parking lot. I hold my mom’s hand the entire way because her tumor has made her balance unpredictable, and I don’t want to see her take a spill on the asphalt. We get into the little navy car without a word. Mom waits patiently, her purse clutched on her lap as I stare out the windshield.
