Again
2019
Two agonizing weeks apart. It’s enough to drive the girls crazy. Twenty six they are now. Three years of perfect marriage bliss. Apart from the four lost years, they cherish a lifetime of memories.
It has surprised them both how great married life is. How it only makes things easier on so many levels. Except being apart. That seems to get harder as time passes.
It’s a different world to Alex right now. She stepped back from the constant traveling to roam every catwalk on this earth. Instead, she has started her own fashion brand. Photoshoots and campaigns still thrill her. They are the reason why the fashion industry and the modeling intrigues her so much, why she feels like an junkie when she hasn’t worked in a while. But luckily, she has the luxury to take on some extra projects. For now, it’s designing clothes. The best news is: people love it.
Amy’s the one that’s doing most of the traveling nowadays. Last month, she was in New Zealand for two weeks, working on a movie. At best, they do most of the editing in a local studio downtown, close to the girls’ apartment in Los Angeles. When Alex has a lot of meetings and gigs in New York, they organize their agendas and move over there for a while. It took them some time, but they managed to grow into a decent pattern concerning their careers. Like, around fashion high season – London and New York fashion week specifically – Amy hardly ever accepts projects. And every time Amy’s really passionate about a movie or a new show, Alex allows her to chase that dream and only accepts as few jobs as possible.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t always go perfectly. Like now. Amy got sucked into a television project in Los Angeles which takes up a lot of her time, while Alex had to be in New York for thirteen days. Gladly, tomorrow she’ll be reunited with her one true love and that’s something she’s crazy excited about. Her laptop is flipped open and after struggling with the WiFi connection for a while – and threatening to throw the router out the window – she finally sees Amy’s face popping up the screen. She’s at the apartment in Los Angeles, wearing a cute, tiny pajama top. Her heart melts.
“My love!” Alex utters dramatically while holding both hands in front of the camera.
Amy smiles sweetly and throws her a kiss. Her eyes sparkle. They always sparkle when they look at her.
“Hey,” Alex immediately rushes in. “I’ve been thinking about something. Remember our first kiss?”
Amy frowns in a confusing way and chuckles over the part when they skip the pleasantries. How was work? Do you miss me? What time will you be at the airport tomorrow? Nope, not important, so it seems.
“Yes,” she decides to play along. “What about it?”
Alex, dressed in a casual jumpsuit – if you can call it casual – has put her feet up in a cross-legged position and supports her head with both fists. Not the most flattering pose, but it looks very cute.
“What were you thinking when you saw me looking at you like that?”
Her wife digs in her memories, but it doesn’t take long before that night in the bar pops up somewhere. It was so random, that moment. But at the same time, it felt perfect.
“I don’t know. I guess I was thinking: what if we kissed right now? Would it be great?”
They both know it was. Their smiles give it away.
“But … you could’ve backed away, gently turned me down. I would have acted as if I wasn’t feeling rejected.”
The cute, tough act amuses Amy. Oh, Alex would’ve been crushed. She blows up her cheeks and shrugs, while the Latina watches her every move.
“I guess that, if I had, you’d always remained a ‘what if’. I don’t like those,” the blonde admits.
Look at them now. Married, happy, successful.
“Well, I’m glad you let me kiss you back then,” Alex decides, even though that goes without doubt.
“Me too.”
The next ten seconds are being used to stare at each other in complete silence. Even after all those years, the look in their eyes just screams out how much they love each other.
“So, do you want to see my money box?” Amy suddenly asks enthusiastically.
It makes her wife explode with laughter:“Is that a euphemism?”
Of course Alex will find something dirty in every single thing Amy has to say.
But the blonde remains dead-serious: “No! God, no. Alex! I made a money box for a project for Luke. Remember the fundraiser?”
Normal people would feel a bit embarrassed right now. The Latina doesn’t.
“Of course I do. Show it.”
A proud Amy holds the cubical piggy bank up in the air. She decorated it brilliantly. Alex doesn’t understand why she did it, though. She could’ve easily bought one in the store. Amy says it’s an involvement thing.
“It’s a nice box, but I’ve seen better,” Alex teases her suggestively.
If the intonation wasn’t obvious enough, the naughty smirk and eyebrow wiggle were. Amy rolls her eyes and orders her to stop. It doesn’t surprise her that her words mean nothing to her wife.
“Come on, babe. Don’t you miss me? And these.”
She points at her chest while wiggling her boobs. Amy can’t help but smile over the adorable face Alex is pulling.
“Of course I do. But this isn’t the time to discuss that.”
She stresses it in such a way that it confuses Alex.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you feeling hot for me right now?”
Confidence has two ways to invade a person’s characteristics. Annoyingly and charmingly. Alex pulls them off both with a common ease.
She’s taken by full surprise when Eleanor pops up behind Amy, though. Seems like her wife is having the in-laws over for dinner. Her cheeks turn as red as the devil’s stereotypical outfit before she demonstrates a weak wave.
“Hi, Mrs. Wolfe,” she nervously chuckles while realizing it’s weird to still call her that.
Amy seems to enjoy it, though. Her vicious smile just can’t stay hidden. Luckily, there’s an easy way out while talking over some technology: it’s cutting off the connection.
“Okay, babe. I have to go. Kathy will be here any minute.”
She sighs, like it’s killing her to say goodbye. In fact, it’s killing her she’s still staring at the disapproving face of her mother in law.
“Pick me up at ten. Thanks. Love you, bye.”
She shuts the laptop with a smack that could’ve easily broken it. She’s feeling utterly disgusted now. About having a dirty sexually-contained conversation with Eleanor in the room. Shivers run down her spine. For the first time in a bad way, despite the fact that it involves Amy.
The doorbell rings and she couldn’t be happier about being distracted for a second. Kathy McGrath to the rescue.
Her phone beeps. It’s Amy.
‘Did you just hang up on me?’
The room is awfully quiet and uncosy. People around her are staring at her famous face. Alex doesn’t like it one bit. Kathy made her come here. Not that she insisted. It was the conversation they had last week. Kathy was going on and on about her health issues. How she was feeling sick and exhausted. Her stomach was the problem, so it seemed. Alex didn’t need a lot to figure it out. Rumor’s always had it that Kathy is a big fan of the cotton ball diet. She’s been doing it for years, in order to stay thin enough to keep modeling. When Alex brought it up, she had the courage to deny it for a solid hour. But no one can win an argument with the Latina. She sat the brunette down and stared into her gorgeous brown eyes. The girl had no other option but to listen.
“I’ve had cancer, remember? It thought me one thing: your health is the most important thing in life. You shouldn’t be playing around with it. You are slowly killing yourself.”
Kathy was brave enough to put up another fight: “I’m not -“
“Don’t you dare to deny it,” Alex hissed at her while interrupting immediately. “I know you are. And it’s okay. You don’t have to lie to me. But you need to get some help.”
Kathy lowered her head and instantly started breathing heavier. She was feeling worse than ever. It had been going on long enough without any actual damage to her organs or blockages. But she couldn’t challenge fate anymore. She was just done with it.
“Promise me, Kathy,” Alex pleaded. “You’ve seen me at my worse. You’ve seen how I almost died. Promise me you’ll be smarter than that. I don’t want to go to your funeral.”
Kathy’s eyes cracked when she stared into hers. She promised.
And so the next day, after coming home, Alex went to Dr. Cullers’ office. She has been feeling tired lately. Enough to make her worry. At first, it seemed like a shortage of vitamins or just the weather playing on her mood. But she saw the fear in Kathy’s eyes and it suddenly reminded her of herself, all those years ago. She had to go visit the doctor that had helped. Because unlike last time, she needed to know if the worrying was justified.
She nervously sat on the creaking chair, staring straight in front of her, until she was allowed to enter the office. When Dr. Cullers saw her face, a smile appeared.
“My supermodel patient. Alex, how are you?”
The guy was captivated by her presence. Somehow, she might have been his proudest achievement.
It didn’t take her very long before she explained what was going on. Nothing hurt, but there was this undeniable feeling that snuck up on her in the middle of the night. It couldn’t be ignored.
“I’m tired again,” Alex told him. “I’m tired and I have this friend who isn’t taking care of herself. I don’t want to be that person.”
Dr. Cullers tried to calm her down with soothing words: “Being tired doesn’t mean anything, Alex.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I want you to check me out. So I can be safe.”
He heaved a deep sigh and put down the pen he was holding. Alex looked scared and insecure.
“Remember the first few months when you went into remission? You called Dr. De Weerdt every other minute, even when it was three a.m. in Belgium. Remember that?”
She nodded. Sure, back then it was a panic attack. She realized that.
“Yes. I’d feel sick or have a nose bleed or have a little grown-in hair and -”
“You’d think the cancer was back,” he interrupts her. “And right now you’re feeling anxious again because of this friend and that’s okay.”
But she shook her head very convincingly: “No, it’s not. Because I’m a cancer patient. Every cough I’ll have, every bit of headache, every sting after working out – I’ll always think it’s back. And there’s always the possibility. So excuse me if I come in here, acting like a three-year-old every time I am feeling scared.”
She lowered her head, contemplating the next thing she was about to say. The guy didn’t understand.
“Guess what: you didn’t have cancer,” she uttered, while looking back up at him with watering eyes. “You don’t know just how scared a person can get. So the least you can do is draw my blood and test it. And when the results are in, you can laugh at me all you want and tell me just how badly I’m overreacting. But right now I’m tired. And I need an answer.”
David takes her to the next appointment. She asked him. A week has passed and Amy has to work until later that evening. Alex didn’t lie about the doctor’s appointment. She just slightly bended the motives and snuck in the little inconsistency that it was a regular check-up. Even after all these years, she just wants to protect her.
“What if it’s bad?” David whispers, thinking of the worst-case scenario. “What are you going to do?”
Alex has thought about it. She shrugs and closes her eyes. Last time was such a blur.
“Well, I can’t run away again.”
David, who used to be the unbeliever, seems to have had a change of heart about her past actions: “Why not?”
The Latina’s eyes linger over the gorgeous ring around her finger. Her wedding ring.
“Because I promised her,” she whispers, just not soft enough so it would be lost to David’s ears.
“I always wondered … how …”
She looks up to him and notices just how nervous he is. She’s past that emotion. The fear of all of this being real again made her body feel paralyzed a few minutes ago. It faded.
“How what?”
“How did you know for certain that she’s the love of your life? I mean, look at Eli and Jessy. They are expecting a baby and I have this amazing relationship with Julia. It’s good. It’s more than good. But how do you know you love someone? Because no matter what, you and Amy – that’s a whole other level to me.”
Alex hears the word love and Amy’s face pops up. It’s always been that way. When she sees her, a song starts playing in her mind. But she doesn’t have a clue how someone else experiences it.
The people around her all subtly look over their magazines to assure themselves that Alex Ochoa is sitting in the same room. It doesn’t bother her, though. Not anymore.
“You know how we are both crazy about nachos and cheese dip, right?” she starts talking.
David stares at her and shakes his head: “Totally weird twist, but I’ll go with it. Yes, you are ridiculously obsessed by it.”
His cousin leans against the back of the chair and reminds herself of something: “Well, whenever we get to that last bit of the bag, when you have one piece of nacho left and … And there’s just this one delicious drip of cheese sauce left.”
She uses her fingers to reenact the scenario.
“Yes,” David confusingly frowns.
The smile taking over Alex’s face enchants him.
“She gives it to me. If that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is.”
The model winks and at the same time, she realizes it makes no sense at all.
“No, seriously. It’s easy, being with her. Sure, we fight sometimes, but who doesn’t? We just come home every evening after work, we talk, we have dinner, we cuddle in the couch and go to sleep. To some, it might be boring, but it’s the best part about my life. It means more than all those fake parties and events. Going home to her, to my one true love – it’s exhilarating. It’s the point of my life, why I was born and why I’ll die. This girl makes me so happy that I can’t even put it into words. She makes me smile, even when she’s just sleeping right next to me. Or snoring. I dream about her, right after seeing her all day. And though it might never come to that, I wish, one day, she’ll have my babies. So, you see, watching Finding Nemo and Mulan for the thousandth time in a row isn’t sad or boring at all. It’s the thing I live for.”
It always overwhelms her cousin just how beautifully she can talk about the love of her life.
But at the same time, he disagrees, kind of to mock her: “Yeah … See, I don’t really get that. I’d prefer the partying with models thing.”
The receptionist surprises them by inviting Alex in. David promises to wait for her at the exact same spot. He holds her hand for a while, for encouragement. She heaves a nervous sigh – yes, it suddenly came back – and walks away from him.
The doctor’s face isn’t as joyful as the last time she came in. He looks a bit numb, honestly. After sitting down on his request, she recognizes that specific look in his eyes. It’s been so many years, but it’s a sight one never forgets.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” he softly tells her, afraid to unleash the truth upon her.
Her heart stops beating and at the same time, she realizes her gut feeling was right again.
“It can’t be back,” she tells him, almost like she’s saying a prayer. “It was cured. I’m in remission. NED, you said.”
No evidence of disease. The doctor stands up to walk over to her. He sits down on the empty chair beside her. Amy should be sitting there. Suddenly she realizes that her wife should’ve tagged along. Why does she always screw up like this?
“I’m sorry, Alex,” Dr.Cullers repeats. “These things cannot be foreseen.”
Tears build a wall in front of her eyes. All she’s experiencing is anger and confusion. It’s even worse than the first time. Because she’s been through it all – for nothing it seems.
“But I’m so young,” she gasps. “I’ve already survived this bitch once. I just got my life back together, I can’t … I can’t have cancer again. I gave up everything last time. Everything.”
The desperation in her voice is loud enough to shake him up. This isn’t the first time that one of his patients get this diagnosis. It kills him too see her like this.
“This is hard – not to mention unfair,” he clears his voice after a second. “But you’ll have to come in again this week so we can determine just how bad it is. See what type of treatment we should consider. We have to figure out your options.”
Alex isn’t facing him again. She just stares out the window in front of her. It’s like this is an alternative dimension, just not an AA-meeting. It can’t be happening. It just can’t.
When she arrives at the apartment door, tears have turned her cheeks red. She put on some makeup in the car to cover it up as much as possible. The paparazzi couldn’t see her all emotional. Luckily, no one was around. David, completely torn about the news, asked her if she needed him to be there, but she refused the kind offer. Amy was waiting for her. She even prepared dinner. So now she has to walk through the door and tell her the truth.
“Hi, babe. Where have you been? I called your cellphone about ten times and you didn’t pick up. I was starting to worry,” Amy talks aloud from the kitchen after hearing her come in.
It smells great in the room. It always does when Amy decides to be a master chef for the evening. Cutely covered in cooking stains, the beautiful blonde appears in the living room area. It’s dark, barely lit by some candles to make it romantic. Alex usually likes that, except now she doesn’t even notice the gesture. Something tells her she has to fess up immediately, before she chickens out again. A heavy sigh makes her shoulders come up for a second.
“Can you – um – please sit down for a minute, babe,” she nervously asks, while patting the soft pillows of the couch.
“Why? What’s wrong,” her cheerful wife wonders.
She walks over to Alex and notices the serious look on her face. Suddenly, her smile disappears. That look in her eyes, it terrifies her. Alex never looks at her that way. Has she been crying?
“It’s … I have to tell you something. But you need to sit down,” Alex explains.
She sits down as well, because something tells her that it’ll be hard to completely destroy the perfection of their life with just a few words. She clears her throat and pats the pillows again. A confused Amy decides to trust the aching feeling in her chest and the devastation that Alex’s eyes expose. Her body sits down next to her wife. Their fingers entwine and Alex licks her upper lip a few times before she dares to open her mouth. It’s awfully quiet in the apartment. Not even the kitchen noises seem to reverberate through the room anymore. Her heart is racing so fast that a sudden heart attack wouldn’t surprise her at all. It’s because of Amy. Because of the worry in her eyes after looking into hers. She’s going to tell her the most devastating news she’ll ever hear. Something Alex fought so hard to protect her from.
“What is it?” the blonde anxiously chokes.
After another unspoken moment, the puzzling pieces of her talented mind come up with some scenarios. She feels just how sweaty Alex’s hands are, how her cheeks are more red than usual. And the skin around her eyes looks irritated, like they’ve been rubbed a few times in the last couple of minutes. That’s when she knows. That’s when she starts crying. She shakes her head from right to left and utters the word ‘no’ six times, hoping that saying it out loud will make it true.
Chemotherapy will start in the morning. Alex can’t believe it’s all happening again. The last time, it almost killed her. She had to go through a long fighting process before the cancer finally gave up. And after so long, something tells her that the worst parts don’t even appear in her memories anymore.
The family’s really, really overcome by emotions about the news. There was always this small chance that it could come back. But life had been wonderful lately. The girls got married, they have amazing careers. The parents were secretly awaiting the moment when kids would pop up. Except it didn’t happen. Cancer popped up again.
The Ochoa pack probably dealt with the news the best. They’ve been through it before. Not like that makes it easier, but they have learned the hard way that fairness has nothing to do with this disease. Cancer is unbiased. It hits the poor or the rich. Black and white people. It sneaks up on children and the elderly. There’s nothing that can assure you of your safety. Because there is none when it come to cancer.
“So,” William whispers after spending the night at his daughter’s place.
Alex looks up to him. They are the only ones left int the room. Amy and her mother have gone to the bathroom. They are packing Alex’s bags. Not like she can’t do it herself, it’s just that Amy needs something to keep herself occupied with. The model asked her not to give up on her job. Just a few more weeks and the crew of her show gets some weeks off. In the meanwhile, working might be good for her. Alex is doing the same thing, actually. She asked Rick to fill the empty gaps around her hospital visits and only clear the schedule for the important time slots.
“Some people yell,” her father in law resumes. “Some are being sarcastic or ironic. Some act like plain jerks. What’s your coping mechanism?”
Maybe he’s asking because he hasn’t figured one out for himself yet. Alex remembers last time. She yelled at the nurses a lot in the beginning. Soon, she discovered they had nothing to do with it. They were there to help her. This time it’s different. There are a lot of things to take under consideration.
“I cry a lot when the lights are out,” she confesses while staring at the pictures on the cabinet next to her. “And when turn back on, I wipe the tears away and get through the day.”
William nods and remains silent for a while before he even dares to ask: “For Amy?”
A soft smile takes control of Alex’s face and she looks back at him. That’s when she proves him right.
“For Amy.”
After Eleanor and William nearly hug her to death, they promise to pay her a visit as soon as possible in the hospital. She’ll be in there for a whole month, just like last time. No hair, no energy, no resistance to throw up. She remembers.
“So, let’s do something,” Amy suggests while dragging her wife along to the bedroom.
She has packed the bags. They are ready to be thrown into the car first thing in the morning. George will pick them up, because Amy has better things to do than drive a car. She’s needs to hold her wife’s hand and kiss her repeatedly. Alex’s orders.
“Tomorrow’s your first big chemo day and that means it’s your last day as a free, careless person – or something like that. We can do whatever you want, just pick a thing: a lifelong dream, a secret wish, a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant, a …”
She can’t come up with anything else, though. Her courageous act helps Alex deal with the news. At first, she wanted to do nothing else but cry. But it took her a day before realizing that doesn’t help at all. And it certainly won’t encourage the Latina to be strong.
“Stop,” Alex tells her while squeezing the flesh of the blonde’s hand. “I just want to stay here, with you, staring into your eyes and make love to you … And possibly in a really creepy way end up crying as I watch you fall asleep. That’s my big wish. Is that okay?”
It makes Amy shut up immediately. She nods and feels her heart beating like crazy. Tomorrow scares her like crazy. In fact, it’s the scariest thing she has ever faced.
“Sure,” she nervously agrees.
After crawling into bed, they put on a black and white movie. Amy lovingly strokes Alex’s arm while paying attention to the characters. Her wife refrains from reading some fashion blogs on her tablet. She’s enjoying this way too much. Tomorrow weirdly doesn’t scare her as much as it should. Maybe it’s because this time, Amy’s with her. Maybe it’s because all of this might turn out better than she expected. Maybe she’s just being an idiot. She looks up and sees that beautiful creature she can call her wife. What if this ends badly? What if Amy …
Out of nowhere, panic smashes her peaceful feeling her like a hammer. What is she even thinking? Last time was horrible. It was devastating. Every part of her body hurt and even if she felt better for a second, the nausea hardly ever disappeared. A rag doll had more energy than she did. And at times, she almost prayed to die.
“I don’t know if I can do this again, Amy. Last time … It was so hard,” she bravely admits to the love of her life while her heart’s pounding in her throat.
Amy pauses the movie and crawls even closer to her than she assumed was possible. Her arms are comfortingly wrapped around the perfection that is her spouse.
“Well, I don’t know how it was last time,” she honestly admits. “But I’m here now, okay? So now, you’ll have to show me. Show me the lead and I’ll be strong for you. You don’t have to be the hero all the time. I can do that too.”
Alex nods against her chest, but can’t help but sobbing suddenly.
“I’m scared, babe,” she breathes against her pajamas.
“I know, sweetie,” Amy tells her, trying hard to hide the trembling in her voice. “I’m scared too. But I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you.”
Something orders her to keep up this tough act. Because if the fierce Victoria’s Angel can’t even be positive about this anymore, how will her falling apart help?
“Protect?” Alex surprises herself by suddenly finding the strength to mock her personal scaredy-cat. “You jump five feet off the ground when you hear a noise in the apartment.”
It feels so great that the atmosphere has shifted in no time. This is one thing that Amy can do: tease and mock and play along to cover up the actual feelings.
“I’ve manned up over the years,” she defends herself. “I keep hidden knives in dark corners. I am not afraid to use them.”
Alex raises her head and expresses the level of disbelief that statement ignited inside her. Her wife hesitates momentarily and shrugs.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
A month has gone by with the speed of a turtle that lost two of his two very, very slow feet. It dragged himself all the way to the finish line and decided to take some pit stops along the way. Amy is exhausted, but that’s nothing compared to Alex. The stuff they injected her with nearly killed her. It has terrified Amy just how fragile her wife can be. It’s true: the model has always been the strong one. But at the start, she was nothing more than bones and skin, throwing up constantly, losing her hair and faintly losing hope. Her temper surprisingly survived the chemo. Everyone in the near environment of Alex had to endure the amount of rage coming from the hopeless feeling that invaded the young, successful supermodel. She couldn’t cope with being so helpless.
So of course Amy’s happy to see her wife a little bit more healthy again. Not that it’s over yet. This first phase was part of a periodical treatment plan. She’ll have to return in a couple of weeks for part two. Just not this long.
As George grabs the bags off the floor to transport them to the car, he finds his courageous daughter. The pride he feels while looking at her cannot be described. The disbelief that this has struck her twice just as well.
“What are you plans, kiddo?” he wonders. “You can’t go back to work, you know that right.”
Of course she does. Even if she wanted to, her body wouldn’t let her. Walking from one part of the room to the other almost feels like an Olympic achievement. Going up and down the stairs isn’t even an option yet. She’ll need to recover. Just like last time, it’ll take a lot of sleep and exercise to regain her strength. Patient – not exactly her best quality.
Amy strokes her hair and kisses the pale hand that’s holding hers. It’s time: Alex can go home now. She’s in the wheelchair, ready to be pushed all the way to the car. Even breathing can take its toll sometimes, but that won’t stop Alex from trying.
“There’s something I really need to be getting done as soon as I’m allowed to the house again,” she tells her father. “My list.”
He looks up to her and that makes his bald head reflect the bright lights. He remembers: the bucket list she wrote down last time. It was weird and made no sense and complete sense at the same time.
“What do you mean?” Amy asks while crawling behind the wheelchair to push it into motion.
Alex leans her head back until it reaches the moving muscles of Amy’s stomach. She loved every second that Amy was in here with her. The blonde stayed every night, uncomfortably sleeping on a pliable bed right next to her. Each and every time Alex had to throw up, she held the little tray to stop her from spilling, no matter how disgusting it was or how loud Alex yelled at her to back away. And she went to work, like she promised, to get distracted from time to time while Alex slept through most of the day. Truth is, Amy’s been her absolute rock and Alex realizes how hard this must have been for her. There will never be enough words to thank her. And it ain’t even over yet.
“I have a bucket list,” Alex explains, while panting.
Getting up from bed and into the chair was exhausting. But Amy wants to hear all about it. She can get enthusiastic when her wife talks about future plans. It’s what keeps her hopeful that Alex won’t give up easily.
“Get arrested once. Kiss in the rain. Get a puppy. Have a …”
She stops halfway through her well thought-through vision of a perfected bucket list to stare at her father hesitantly, but realizes he read it in Belgium, when he though she was asleep.
“Have a threesome,” she resumes whispering for a second.
George is happy to act as if he didn’t hear her say that.
“Get married. Milk a cow. Get a tattoo and die in the arms of the one I love.”
The last one comes as a surprise to Amy, definitely given the circumstances, but she decides to focus on the cheerful aspects.
“Well, you’ve done a few,” she tells her, bending over to get close enough to Alex’s ear.
She kisses the temple that has no hair on it anymore. The blonde suggested to shave off her own the second Alex started to lose her hair, out of solidarity. But the Latina threatened to kill her if she did.
“Because,” she said, “unlike me, you will be extremely ugly with no hair.”
It made Amy laugh, because of course it was a joke. Still, it was said terrifyingly enough to reconsider.
George looks over to them and softly smiles: “Which ones?”
His curiosity quickly backfires, because what if his little girl answers ‘the threesome’. It’s something he definitely doesn’t want to know about. Alex reads it off his face and starts smirking for the first time in a while.
“I got married, I think,” she says all sassy.
Amy flashes him the shinny ring around her finger and adorably mouths the words ‘to me’.
“The puppy. Though, David has it now.”
Oh, yes. She wanted a puppy last year. Amy refused to, because they had no time for any sort of living creature at the moment. Alex was traveling around the world, only to come back and find Amy in another city for some project. Even their plants died. But the second the model secretly snuck in an adorable, to-die-for Labrador, Amy’s objections vaporized immediately. That face was just too cute. Might have been cuter than Alex’s when she proudly introduced him to her. They named the blond beauty Calvin.
One thing Amy did insist on, though: no puppy in bed – under no circumstance. It was unhygienic, inconsequent to raise him properly and she knew how it would end: the little brat would destroy their perfect sex life in weeks. Alex agreed after getting tired of the nagging spree her wife went on. Few things were sacred to her, but her amazing lesbian affaires with Amy were one of them. All day long, Amy turned out to be the strict doggy-owner. While Alex aloud the little devil to do everything, Amy took him out for walks and disciplined him whenever he was being naughty.
But when Alex decided to call it a night, later on, she found Amy asleep on the left side of the bed already. Little Calvin was spread across her chest. It took her more than life itself to not wake her and laugh to her face, but she refrained from being vindictive and crawled next to the perfect pair to fall asleep as well.
Turned out Alex was allergic. The next day, she had little red dots all over her body and the sneezing never seemed to stop. David offered to take care of Calvin. He moved in with Julia a few months before and started feeling lonely when she was out for the job. Little blogger boy needed some company.
George smiles over the story. He remembers well how Alex freaked out over the photoshoot she had to cancel because of the allergic reaction. Every single vase in the apartment ended up broken and chattered in the dumpster that night.
“That’s it?” Amy wonders out loud, barely even recalling what the entire list was.
Alex shakes her head and passes the cosy room where all the nurses have gathered to drink coffee. Most of them walk into the hallway to wish her a pleasant recovery. She tried really hard to be more civilized to these caretakers this time around. Sometimes it was hard – a sick person close to giving up loses it once in a while. Like she said: people with cancer can be assholes. But they did a lot for her. They cleaned up her puke and washed her fragile body each time Amy couldn’t be there.
From the bottom of their hearts, George and his girls thank them. Afterward, they leave.
“Remember when we kissed in the rain, babe?” Alex asks her wife.
It was during fashion week in Paris. The weather was shit. It rained all day and all night, even though Alex had a different opinion about it.
“It’s snowing,” she said when she looked up at the sky.
But Amy wasn’t so sure about it. Snow was supposed to be flaky and big. This was just wetness drowning them.
“That ain’t snow,” she said.
Alex made her stop, clearly not the best idea when passing through a storm, and objected: “Really? Then what is it? Obese rain?”
Amy rolled her eyes over the dramatical reply and scoffed: “God, the things you come up with.”
But just as she had said it, Alex eyes lightened up, like she had an idea or something.
“I’ve always wanted to kiss in the rain. We did a lot of things, but we’ve never done that.”
As she said it, her so called snow transformed back into a pouring sensation of water. The streets were empty for a change. Not even the original Parisians felt happy about facing this weather. Amy hesitated, since she was dying to catch a hot shower and go to bed, but it seemed to mean a lot to the love of her life and so she gave in. Alex closed the gap between them and put both hands on Amy’s cheek. Her eyes rolled up and down the blonde’s gorgeous face and an enchanting smile proceeded the passionate smooch she laid on Amy’s lips. The kept it up for about a minute, while the scent of a wet city and the loud noise of splashing raindrops interrupted the romantic fantasy. Alex was the first one to pull back from the kiss and started laughing uncontrollably.
“Well, this is a lot colder and inconvenient than it shows in the movies,” she concluded.
Her editor genius spit out some of the water that had invaded her mouth and shook her head disapprovingly.
“I think a fly just drowned in my mouth,” she admitted.
Alex sits up in her wheelchair and pulls a weird face: “Not our finest hour.”
Her wife parks the wheels next to the passenger door of their jeep and agrees.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she soothes her. “We still have a couple of your desires left to fulfill. They will be perfect.”
Sapphic Books 