Dr. Stephens grimaced again. I really hoped she didn’t play poker because she had a sucky game face.
“It’s a serious illness. Complications can be dangerous, and at times fatal. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Make an appointment for next week and we’ll focus on a game plan. Until then, rest as much as you can, fill this prescription for your throat, and if you can help it, don’t Google.” She cocked an eyebrow at me and I laughed.
I thanked her and made an appointment for the next week. Telling a person not to Google anything never works. If anything, it only makes them do it faster. The second I stepped into my car and shut the door, I typed ‘lupus’ in the search engine on my iPhone.
There are times in your life that are milestones, some good and some bad. One event can divide your life—what happened before and what happened after. As I scrolled through the search results—the initial articles cited recent deaths from lupus—my life split in half; Paige before she had lupus, and Paige afterwards. Paige before had been full of life and possibilities. She had a job she loved and a wonderful man she was eager to build a future with. She didn’t pass out at nine o’clock at night because six hours of work was too strenuous. She got excited over eating, didn’t just force down enough to keep from passing out. She woke up vibrant and energetic, didn’t trudge to the bathroom in pain two hours before she had to get up so she could look sort of human at a client meeting.
Dr. Stephens had stressed the diagnosis wasn’t confirmed, but after browsing through the results, I was convinced I had lupus. It was all there, but I couldn’t tell Mom or Evan yet. They would both panic and try to find a plastic bubble to keep me in.
Was this how Jack felt when he first found out he was sick? How long did he wait before he told us? How did he brush it off like it was no big deal? Did he feel this alone? This angry? If he did, he never let it show. I needed to be strong like that. My family was still grieving; Evan was, too. They didn’t need to worry about this.
I needed to close the browser before the panic attack I was inflicting on myself swallowed me whole. Instead, I scrolled to the headline about Julian Lennon and lupus awareness at the bottom of the screen—and my heart dropped to my stomach. In a ridiculous twist of irony, the Lucy who inspired Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds died from lupus complications. I laughed mirthlessly. The universe had a fucked up sense of humor.
I started the car once my hands stopped shaking, and drove away. I didn’t know where I was going or how I would get there. I had a feeling that would be my life from now on.
“Still no name for this? This is bullshit, Paige. What else did she say?” My mother should have worked for the CIA. She wouldn’t stop until she got an answer. I kept my back to her as I put the salad together for dinner. Looking my mother in the eye right now would completely disarm me. I had no clue how to brush Evan off, too.
“She has a few more tests to take, but she gave me something for my throat so I could eat. She’s a specialist so I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”
Mom huffed. “I lost faith in doctors after you were sick for the second month. She didn’t tell you anything? Give you any feeling of what she thought it might be? I knew you shouldn’t have went alone.” She shook her head at me; no one frustrated my mother more than me. I usually found it funny, but not today. If she only knew what I wasn’t telling her.
“I’m in my thirties, I can take care of myself. Look, let’s not worry about this tonight and have a nice dinner. Evan should be here soon. Put this on the table for me, please.” I was doing okay not speaking to my mother face to face. Dinner with both of them promised to be fun. I would pour myself a big glass of wine if I knew it wouldn’t burn like a bitch going down.
I jumped when my lock clicked open. My mother narrowed her eyes at me.
“Evan has a key? Is he living here and you just forgot to tell me?” Ah yes, this was good—this nagging I could handle.
“No, not living here. I would tell you.” I chuckled when she rolled her eyes.
“Of course you would. I’ll go set the rest of the table.” She mumbled to herself as she counted out the napkins.
“Hi honey, I’m home!” Evan sauntered into my tiny kitchen wearing a big smile. His face fell when he noticed my mother by the table not appreciating his little joke. I playfully grimaced at his discomfort.
“Oh hey, Mrs. Taylor! I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” He strode over to where she was standing and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“For God’s sake, call me Tess. You’ve been in this family for how long now?”
“Sorry, Tess.” Evan’s mouth turned up in a smirk as she patted his cheek.
“That’s better, cookie. How’s the business?” Unbelievable. She was mad at me, not Evan, for having him supposedly living here. Jack was right; Evan totally had the golden ticket with Contessa Taylor.
“Good! Busy, and Jessica’s a godsend. She takes care of all the back end stuff I hate so I can focus on making sure the jobs run smoothly.”
Yes, Jessica was wonderful. Pretty, almost six feet, body to die for, Jessica. I trusted Evan, but I couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy in my gut.
I tried to push it out of my mind as I pulled dinner out of the oven. Evan loved me, and I didn’t want to be one of those jealous girlfriends who always felt the need to compete with other women, especially when my sickly self couldn’t hold a candle to my boyfriend’s office manager. The tray was heavier than usual and I hoped my sore hands wouldn’t drop it. It was easier to keep the conversation centered on my possible living in sin rather than my deteriorating health.
“Hey, Daisy, how’s my girl?” I set the tray down on the stove and wrapped my arms around Evan’s waist. He gave me a sweet kiss on the lips as he ran his knuckles down my cheek. “What did the doctor say?”
“Nothing!” My mother yelled from the table. “More tests, and medicine for her throat. I knew one of us should have gone with her.” Evan’s eyes narrowed as he glared.
“Come on! Still?” Evan’s brow furrowed as he turned back to me. “What’s wrong with your throat?”
“I have sores down my throat, and that’s why it’s hard to eat. She said she didn’t want to speculate on the rest until she confirmed it with a few more blood tests. She’s a specialist, though, and Natalie and Dr. Ramirez both said she’s good. Can we just have a nice dinner, please?” How many times would I have to repeat that tonight? Evan frowned at me and shook his head.
“Sores down your throat? Daisy, I don’t like this. When will she know?”
“Next week. I have another appointment.” I took Evan’s face in my hands. “I feel okay today. Let’s just put a pin in this for now and eat.” I felt okay after a two hour nap and three Advil, but he didn’t need to know that.
Evan grabbed my wrists and ran his thumbs over my knuckles. The weary look on his face as he let out a long sigh broke my heart. I hated lying to him.
“Alright, Daisy. We’ll put a ‘pin in it.’ For now.” He kissed my forehead and left to join my mother at the table.
Keeping this to myself was killing me. I needed someone to talk to that wouldn’t freak out. I picked up my phone and shot a quick text to Natalie.
Me: What do you know about lupus?
Natalie responded right away.
Natalie: Shit that’s what you have? I had a feeling when Ramirez sent you to Stephens.
Me: Well that’s comforting. Mom and Evan are giving me the third degree over here and I haven’t told them yet. Are you working tomorrow? Can I meet you for lunch or can you come here?
Natalie: Yeah I’m off. I’ll come over. You’re not telling them?