“Good morning, Miss Harley,” he greeted, using his own personal nickname for her. The name had come about when Corey had started wearing bandannas; he said she looked like a biker.
“Hi, Dr. Lang,” she said, her voice less than cheerful.
He gave her a questioning look. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and caring.
She sighed. “It’s just . . .” She paused, thinking of how to word what she wanted to say. Finally, she continued. “It’s just that sometimes I wonder if these treatments are even worth it. I mean, I don’t have much time left, anyway, so . . . Why even bother with it?”
“Corey,” Dr. Lang said, his tone serious, “every little bit helps.”
Letting out a breath, she nodded. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed quietly. After a beat, she added, “Let’s get this over with.”
Mr. and Mrs. Jennings were waiting inside Corey’s room when she returned from her treatment.
“Hi,” Corey greeted, giving her parents a smile. “How long have you been waiting?”
Mrs. Jennings, a small woman with dark hair and blue eyes, smiled back. “Only a few minutes,” she told her.
“Okay,” she said. She hated when her parents had to sit around waiting for her. “so, what’s going on today?”
“Barry and Tina are coming today,” her mother told her. “They’re coming in Barry’s new car.”
Corey smiled. “I like when they visit,” she said. “Berry and Tina always have good stories.”
Corey was anxious all day.
It was Monday, so they wouldn’t be coming to the hospital until about three-thirty. To take her mind off the time, Corey listened to the Walkman she kept on the table beside her bed. She sang along with the songs and was so loud that at one point, one of the nurses poked her head in and said, “Not that you don’t have a lovely voice, but could you please keep it down a little?” Corey had smiled and obliged, singing more quietly.
Finally, three-thirty rolled around. Corey took out the small hand mirror she kept at her bedside and looked at her reflection. Her face was thin - she hadn’t been able to keep weight on since starting the chemotherapy. The bandanna made her face look thinner, but she refused to take it off; she looked dumb with no hair. On the upside, she didn’t look pale as she had the last time her cousins had visited.
The door opened just as she set the mirror down. Her cousins entered the room: Barry first, a tall, lanky sixteen-year-old guy with sandy brown hair and hazel-green eyes, and then Tina, a slight girl of nine with feathery light brown hair and china-blue eyes. Corey smiled at them.
Barry walked over and hugged her tightly. “Hi, Corey. You look good.”
She returned his embrace with as much pressure as she could manage. “Thanks. So do you.”
Barry broke his embrace and Tina walked over to her. Timidly, she placed her arms around the older girl’s shoulders. Then, quickly, she backed away. It was as if she was afraid to touch her.
Corey had noticed that, by and by, Tina had become distant toward her. The only reason that seemed logical to her was that Tina was afraid to get too close to her because she knew she was going to die. Corey’s heart went out to her.
“So, Barry, how are the new wheels?”
Barry smiled. “Well, they’re not exactly new,” he admitted. “Well, they’re new to me, so that’s all that matters. I parked right out there -” he motioned to the parking lot beyond Corey’s window “- so you could see it.”
“Really?” Corey asked. Smiling, she climbed to her knees and turned around to face the window, making sure not to pull the IV out of her left wrist. She looked down to the parking lot, three stories below. “Which one is it?”
“The car in between the big red van and the maroon pick-up truck. The blue one,” he told her.
Corey looked at the car. Her smile broadened. She turned back to Barry as he began taking again.
“The guy at the dealership wanted to sell me a red on just like it, but I insisted on the blue,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Blue’s your favorite color.”
The words filled Corey’s heart. She and Barry had always been close, despite the difference in their ages. She knew that her cancer had hit him harder than anyone - maybe even harder than her parents. She reached out her arms and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome, Core,” he replied. “I just wish you could come ride in it with me.”
She smiled, fighting back tears. “I wish so too.”
