Hope, Levy, Marc [good summer reads TXT] 📗

curling up next to Josh in bed. They made love, and when they had finished, they fell asleep holding hands, in silence punctuated by nothing more than the rise and fall of their breaths.

When he woke up the next day, Josh asked Hope for permission to discuss her problem with Flinch. He was sure to know the best neurosurgeons in town. Hope told him her situation wasn’t a “problem,” but ultimately agreed. Next came the small matter of her father. He needed to be told, but Hope was categorically against the idea.

“I made the doctor he recommended to me swear he wouldn’t reveal a single thing. Dad would make himself sick with worry, and I don’t want to have to deal with him.”

“He’s a doctor, and he’s your father,” Josh reminded her gently. “You can’t keep him in the dark like that.”

“He’d get on the first plane out here, and Amelia would definitely come with him. I need peace and quiet and time for myself. Or actually, I need the opposite.” She glanced at Josh. “First of all, you need to promise me you’re going to stop walking around looking so worried. You said it yourself. This is just a small, common operation, and after it’s done, everything will be right back to normal. That’s how I want things to be, Josh. I want us to carry on making plans, working, researching, having a good time, going out, making love, and even fighting. Normal couple stuff.”

“But we never fight . . .”

“It’s never too late to start. I have a few good ideas to kick us off, if you’re interested.”

They were waiting for Flinch after class. He was surprised to find the three of them hanging around outside his office. He didn’t have much time to spare, but a quick glance at their drawn faces prompted him to give them a few minutes. Before Josh had even finished explaining, Flinch took the MRI scans, read through the report, and placed the documents on his desk.

He dialed a number on his phone and spoke with the secretary of a specialist who was also a good friend. He insisted the doctor call him back without delay.

“We’ll get you out of this mess,” he promised the three friends as he saw them out. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have news. We’ll get working on this as soon as possible. There may be radiotherapy and a quick bout of chemo to go through, and then we’ll need to do a biopsy, but honestly? I’m not worried. In the meantime, look after yourselves, and try not to stress. And you can thank Luke. The tumor was detected at a very early stage. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Flinch wanted to keep hold of the test results and assured them he would pass them on to his friend to save time.

After he had reassured them and ushered them out of his office, he closed the door and sat down in his armchair. He opened the envelope once more and checked the EEG images again as the light darkened in his eyes.

Later that afternoon, Flinch called Hope. He had managed to get her an appointment the next morning with Dr. Berger at the university hospital. She shouldn’t worry about the classes she would miss, he assured her. He would ask Luke to take notes for her.

That evening, Hope and Josh tried to make things as normal as possible. Hope insisted on cooking, and the meal was as unpalatable as ever. For once, Josh didn’t protest the contrary. He threw the supposed mac and cheese in the trash, and set about preparing a salad and scrambled eggs, which they ate in front of a rerun of Friends on Hope’s laptop.

The next morning, they dressed as usual, and took their bus to campus as usual. They walked toward the amphitheater, down the path, and toward the university hospital center. It was here that their day stopped being usual.

They spent an hour waiting in a cold, clinical corridor. Every now and then, Dr. Berger’s assistant stuck her head out of her office to reassure them that it would soon be their turn. Hope sat in her plastic chair, flicking through an old celebrity magazine. She realized with a jolt that she didn’t recognize a single one of the featured individuals, although their stories seemed to grow increasingly sensational with each new page. Josh paced the corridor, until Hope ordered him to sit down next to her.

“Have we really spent so long cut off from the outside world?” she murmured as she turned the pages. “I have no clue who these people are, or why they’re in this magazine. Did one of them find a cure for AIDS or something?”

Josh leaned over to peer at the photos.

“I think the guy on page four slept with the girl on page six, but she cheated on him with the girl on page eight. She comes out on page nine. Or something.”

“Wow. This is headline news. Hey, check this one out.” She tilted the magazine toward him. “She got a full-page spread because she got implants. With my operation, I should at least get a double-page spread, right?”

“With your natural assets, you should be on the cover.”

“You know, there’s something so comforting about your zest for what truly matters.”

The doctor’s assistant interrupted them. Dr. Berger was ready to see them now.

The appointment lasted barely fifteen minutes. The surgeon explained he had already spent the morning debating the best route to take with his colleagues. Everyone agreed on how to proceed.

Considering where the tumor was, she would be given local anesthetic. Hope would be unconscious only as the skull was opened and closed. The rest of the time, she would remain conscious. She needed to be able to respond to the tests they would run during the excision stage. This way of proceeding was very old-fashioned and had fallen into disuse with