Page 63 of No Place Like You

Apparently, the doctors decided she was good to discharge early in the morning rather than later, which allowed for Charles to bring her home before he had to go to work.

“Janet! Buzz me up!” I call through the intercom when she finally answers my incessantly impatient press of her buzzer.

“Dex?! What are you doing here?”

“Charles told me you guys got home from the hospital, like, two hours ago,” I practically yell. “Let me up!”

I start to grow frustrated, inwardly smacking the side of my head for having to go into the office this morning when Margaret asked for somereports a day earlier than she had originally requested. I should’ve told her it would have to wait a few hours until I saw Janet home. I should’ve just gone straight to the hospital. I feel like I keep fucking things up. Like every time I want to be there for Janet, she makes do without me. Her guilt in asking me to take her to her chemo sessions and Charles taking over and stepping in because I couldn’t. And now this.

“Uhh…You think you can come back later?” she answers after a beat of hesitation.

My face twists in confusion. “What?! Why?” I ask. I sigh, that frustration inside of me bubbling over. Why the hell is she asking me to come back later? “Janet, just let me up.”

She doesn’t answer me, but the loud buzzing noise sounds through the speaker, along with the light click of the door being unlocked.

Why is she being so weird? I start to worry. Maybe she got some bad news before leaving the hospital. Maybe some test results showed the cancer was worse than she’d thought. Or her prognosis has gone downhill. My worry grows tenfold, and I take the steps two at a time. When I reach her apartment door and knock with about a hundred different scenarios full of more shitty bad news flashing through my mind, there’s shuffling on the other side.

“I’ll be right there!” I hear in a muffled tone. After a few more moments of shuffling and the pitter-patter of steps, the door clicks open with the door chain being pulled taut. Her face peeks through the small opening, and her eyes nervously shift side to side. “Dexter, I thought you weren’t going to be here until after work.”

“No,” I answer, even more confused than when she didn’t want to buzz me up. “I told Charles I took the day off. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to take care of some things in the office that were a little urgent.”

She still stands there, the door chain slashing a line of gold across her eyes.

“Is Charles at work?”

She nods. She still doesn’t say anything, and now I’m getting really worried.

“Janet, you’re kind of scaring me. Will you open the freaking door, please?”

She sighs deeply before closing the door shut. The soft clicking of locks and chains sound, and the door opens again. Janet looks at me sheepishly, and it’s then I notice the right side of her head is shaved.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She steps aside and lets me in. She doesn’t answer my question but instead walks to the bathroom, where I follow her. I see long locks of hair scattered over the bathroom sink and a set of hair clippers plugged into the outlet.

“I didn’t want anyone to see this,” she says, her gaze on the floor. “But while I was in the hospital, it was just coming out in clumps and…This is just something I need to do on my own.”

My heart wrenches in my chest, and I start to sob. “Janet,” I cry hoarsely.

“Dex, it’s okay.” She reaches for my face and cups my jaw.

“I-I should be spending more time with you,” I hiccup through the sobs I’m failing to hold back while tears start to fall like a damn’s been broken. “Charles is taking on so much, and I can’t even be here to bring you home from the hospital. Ortakeyou to the hospital in the first place. I’m so thankful for Charles, butI’myour family, Jan. Not?—”

“Charles isfamily, Dex,” Janet interrupts. “He could’ve bailed the second I got sick, but he didn’t. Who does that if not family?” She pauses, taking a deep sigh. “He isn’t going anywhere. I know it sounds a little naive considering there’s no ring on my finger or anything, but heisfamily.”

She has a point. If Charles has done anything since Janet’s diagnosis, it’s proving his place in her life. Every hour he’s taken away from work to take care of her, staying by her side while she was in the hospital, loving her nomatter what. She’s right. Hecould’vebailed. Legally, he isn’t tied to her in any way. Aside from this apartment they’ve settled into over the past year and a lingering guilt he may or may not have if he decided to break things off after the shock of his new role as a caretaker, there’s nothing keeping him tied to her. I’m almost glad they aren’t married because if they were, it would be about duty and vows and a silly piece of paper legally linking them together. But he’s here because he truly loves her.

My face softens. I offer a sad smile, and she smiles back.

I stare at the long strands of hair in the sink. It’s everywhere. On the counter, on the floor, on Janet, littered over her shirt and leggings. “You know,” I start, still keeping my eyes on the scattered hairs, “I knew this was coming. I knew there was always going to be a possibility that your hair would fall out and you’d most likely choose to shave it, but…I didn’t think I’d ever be prepared for it.” She strokes her hand on my arm, and I finally look at her. “How are you doing this? How is it that I feel like I’m falling apart and you’re still somehow in one piece?”

“I’m not,” she assures, giving me a gentle squeeze. “I try not to think about it and hope I’m doing the right thing, making the right choices. There are so many days I want to give up. Skip my chemo appointments, avoid my doctor visits.”

My vision goes blurry behind a fresh wave of tears.

“But I’m not ready to die,” she adds. “I want to watch you meet someone and make a family of your own. I want to become crazy Aunt Janet with my messy finger paintings and paper-mache.” She grins, and I can’t help but let out a bubble of laughter at the thought of that life. Me, married with kids, creating a future with someone I actually plan to spend the rest of my life with.

“You’re going to be waiting a long while for that to happen,” I comment, rollingmy eyes.

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