Page 28 of Mr. Fixer Upper
Carina hadn’t said it, but Paige heard it all the same. The “when” in her statement was a conscious choice.
“Great. Just think of this as a platform for awareness,” Paige suggested. “We’ll go over the questions a couple of different times just to make sure we get the best answers possible.”
Carina nodded and called her daughter over. Paige got them settled on two backless stools, their backs to their house as it would be for only a few more hours. Felicia scooted in with the boom, and when Tony was satisfied with the lighting, they began.
Paige started with questions on how Malia was diagnosed, making sure Carina hit on the early symptoms. This episode was as much a public service announcement for pediatric brain cancer as it was one family’s story, and Carina was happy to treat it as such.
She was eloquent and sincere in her answers, and Paige knew Carina would connect with mothers everywhere. When Malia started to fidget, Paige knew it was time to get her involved in the conversation.
“Malia, can you tell me about your cancer?”
The little girl nodded proudly. “I have medulloblastoma cancer. I had it before, an’ it came back, so I’ve had two surgeries, radiation, and now I’m going through my last round of chee-mo-therapy.” She ticked off the treatments on her tiny fingers as blasé as if she was describing a field trip to the zoo.
“You’re very brave,” Paige told her. “Do you ever get scared?”
Malia nodded, her brown eyes wide. “I don’t like it when my mom cries. It makes me feel bad. An’ I don’t like the dark very much, so I sleep with a Ninja Turtle nightlight.” She wiggled her little butt on the stool and grinned at her mom.
Carina stroked her daughter’s head. “One of the nurses at the hospital got it for you, didn’t she?”
Malia nodded again. “Miss Jayne. Hey! Do you think Miss Jayne will see this?” she asked Paige.
“I think all of your doctors and nurses are going to see it.”
Malia launched into a personal greeting for each and every one of her medical team. It would never air, Paige knew, but she could get Cat to use the outtake on her blog. As far as she was concerned, men and women who worked with kids with cancer deserved all the shout-outs and thank-yous they could get.
Bringing Malia back to show-worthy sound bites, Paige asked Malia about how the cancer treatments made her feel.
“Sometimes barfy,” Malia said, her pert nose wrinkling. “’An’ sleepy, too. I hafta take more naps. Oh, and I don’t have any hair again. But it makes it easier to see my scars. I showed ‘em to Gannon, and he showed me some of his scars. He said scars mean you’re tough.” Malia flexed her tiny biceps at the camera, and Paige melted inside. “Do you wanna see my scars?”
“Do you want to show me?” Paige directed the question to Malia but looked at Carina. Carina gave her a wink and a nod.
“Sure!” Malia shrugged. “I only wear the scarf or a hat so no one thinks I’m in a zombie Halloween costume or something like that. I don’t wanna to scare someone when they’re ‘spectin to see hair.” She whipped off the purple scarf and spun around backwards on the stool. “See?”
The scars were red and ragged, a violation of her otherwise perfect mocha skin. Paige quietly blew out a breath. “Wow. Those are some scars. You really are tough.”
“That’s what Gannon said. He’s got scars, too, but none as cool as mine.”
Swallowing hard, Paige shuffled through her notes and scratched out another one to find out if there was footage of Gannon and Malia trading scar stories. She couldn’t imagine the inner strength that Carina had, dealing with this on a daily basis. Watching her perfect little angel of a daughter ravaged by a disease and suffering through harsh treatments? They deserved a hell of a lot more than a nice house.
They talked more about treatments and what Malia wanted to do when—always when—her cancer was gone.
“Let’s talk about what you and your mom are doing this week while we’re working on your house,” Paige said. “Usually our families go on vacation for the week, but you wanted to do something different.”
“We’re going to Washington, D.C., to talk to some people about more funding for cancer research. Mama thinks it’ll be hard for them to say no to this face,” Malia said pointing at herself. “Andthenwe’re going to go visit a children’s hospital and play with some kids!”
“That sounds like a really important trip.”
Malia gave her an exaggerated nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say to the people about cancer?”
“I’m going to tell them that we need better treatments, and even if they can’t give us money that will save me now, we have a responsibility to other kids who might be sick in the future.”
Paige had to swallow hard to dislodge the lump in her throat. Carina looked surprised by her daughter’s response. “Baby, where did you... We’re going to beat this.”
“Mooom, I know numbers. The doctors told you when it came back I didn’t have as good a chance. If I don’t get cured, I still want other kids to hopefully get cured.”
Carina grabbed her daughter in a tight hug, and Paige could see her willing away the tears that threatened to fall.
