Page 65 of Love the Stars Fondly
Girlfriend. Boyfriend. Public.It’s a lot.
* * *
I pick off a pepperoni and feed it to Chase while he, Devin, and I watch a slasher movie from the eighties. Devin always picks horror when his turn to pick movies comes up, even though he and Chase have seen this one a hundred times, according to them.
I’m heading home tomorrow, and I even convinced Chase to not stay at the house with me. It’s not that I don’t want him there, but Mama just returned from her trip, and I need some mom and daughter without theboyfriendtime. Time to explain that Chase and I are now a couple, I guess.
“Hey,” Chase whispers, nudging me. “What’s the name again? The thing you have?”
“Rheumatoid Arthritis. That’s what they assume, anyhow.”
“Arthritis? You’re, what, twenty-five?” Devin asks with a yawn.
“You’re sweet. I’m thirty-two. It’s not arthritis, but it’s kind of like it. Anyway, some days it’s hard to move, like arthritis, and that’s why I give myself shots. I’ll be on it my whole life or until it stops working. If that happens, they’ll try something else or transfusions.”
“Yeah, so don’t fuck with her meds in the fridge when she’s here.”
“Be nice, Chase,” I give him a soft smack on the arm. “It’s a shot, not a bomb.”
“Wait, you have to give yourself a shot?” He asks in shock. I nod and Chase kisses my head. “Shit, that sounds serious.”
“It’s an immune system thing and it kind of sucks, but life goes on and I deal with it. Some days are better than others. And the shot isn’t that bad. Especially now that Chase helps.”
“Of course, my queen. I put your next one on my calendar already.”
A few minutes pass, and my eyelids are getting too heavy. I’m almost asleep when Chase nudges me again.
“Do you have a lot of flare-ups?” he whispers, staring into his phone.
“What?” I ask, surprised, not expecting a question like that. “Are…are you reading about RA during the movie?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen this movie. I can quote the whole thing.”
“But, why?”
“It’s a classic? I hate the part with the dogs, but it’s still?—”
“Chase.”
“Oh, not the movie. Uhm, because…I’m not a dick?”
No one outside of my mother and my sister ever offered to help, look up, or try to understand my condition before with any sincerity. Plenty of people give me unsolicited advice, like telling me to lose weight or do yoga. Unhelpful, every one of them. To think, a week ago, I wanted to push this man out of my life. I’m glad he fought me so hard on that. He didn’t give up on me, and I’m not about to give up on him.
“Tomorrow, before you go home, I want to add anything you need for the nights you stay here to my cart and I’ll order it, okay?”
“What stuff?”
“Well, it said if you have a flare up, it can be harder to open things, so probably a couple bottle opener things, something to help you if you drop something. I can get handrails put in the shower. Those could actually be fun.”
I’m in shock as he rattles things off that he’s found online. He must notice, because he puts his phone down and hugs me close before pulling the blanket over us.
“Renate, you’re my queen in more than just the bedroom. So get used to being treated like one.”
“Okay,” I squeak out.
“Good, watch the movie and let me take care of you. Obviously, I like doing it.”
“I can take—” He cuts me off, covering my mouth with his hand.
