Page 62 of Missed Notes (Rixon High 5)

“If you do decide to go ahead with the procedure it will require two weeks of fertility drug treatment before we can collect the eggs from the ovaries. We have a specialist fertility counselor on hand should you have any specific questions.”

“Thank you,” Dad answered.

I felt like a robot with my stiff head nods and one or two-word answers. But it was too much. The barrage of information, the implications of my diagnosis. How was anybody supposed to absorb all this and then go back out into the world and go about their daily business?

“We’ll schedule an appointment after the weekend. There you’ll meet your care team. There’ll be a few more tests to endure, and you can let me know your decision about the fertility treatment.”

“Thanks, Doctor, we really appreciate it.” Dad stood and shook Dr. Jeffries hand again.

“And I’ll check in to see how everything is going. But you’re in very good hands with John and his team.”

“Thank you.” Mom stood, gently pulling me up with her. “Sofia…”

“Thanks,” I croaked, my voice betraying me.

“It feels daunting now,” Dr. Jeffries said. “But once you start treatment, it’ll give you some measure of control back. Until then, get plenty of rest and look after yourself.”

“Don’t you worry about that, doctor. I will make sure she’s taking care of herself.” Mom chuckled, but it was a quiet, sad sound that ripped a hole in my heart.

“Come on, sweetheart. I don’t know about you, but I could use some fresh air.”

I didn’t make it to the end of the hall before I fell into her arms and broke down in tears.

* * *

“Here you go.”Mom handed me a mug of hot chocolate. “I added extra marshmallows.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip and placed it on my nightstand.

She came around the other side of the bed and laid down beside me. “You know, when you and Aaron were born, I thought my heart would burst right out of my chest. You were these tiny, precious things. Part me and part your dad, I couldn’t believe it.

“But your dad, he was a goner. Barely let you out of his sight for those first few months. Aaron was fussy, always wanting to be fed or changed or bounced around. But not you. You were quiet, calm. We used to joke and say you’d been here before, the way you just took everything in your stride.”

She leaned over, brushing the strands of hair from my face. “You’re so much like me, baby. But I want you to know, it’s okay to let people in, sweetheart. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You have me, your dad, Aaron, Poppy and Leigh… Cole.”

My eyes widened, a strange feeling going through me.

“You know, he came to see me yesterday.”

“H-he did?”

I didn’t know how I felt about that. On the one hand, it made my heart flutter, a band of wild horses galloping across my chest. But my stomach churned at the thought of him refusing to let this thing between us go.

She nodded. “He cares about you a lot.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t drag him into this.” I wouldn’t. “It’s senior year. He doesn’t need—”

“So strong and so, so stubborn.” She brushed my forehead again. “For what it’s worth, I think Cole would be good for you. I think you’d be good for each other.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’ve all got our own burdens to shoulder, baby. And you know what they say, sometimes a problem shared is a problem halved.”

“This is different, Mom. I have cancer. I could—”

“Shh.” She pressed her finger to my lips, her expression etched with pain and hopelessness. “None of that. We’re going to beat this, Sofia. Okay? And you’re going to go to prom and graduation and then college next fall. You’re going to have it all, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” A tear slipped free as the weight of everything pressed down on me.

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