Hailey laughed as Grant began writing. “Don’t you need to think about that for awhile? You weren’t even in class when we discussed the assignment!”
“Okay…let’s try the power of osmosis,” Grant said, leaning his head next to Hailey’s. “Just sit here with me and let your thoughts seep into mine.”
“Ha,” Hailey scoffed as she pulled away. “You might want to check and see what kind of grade I scored on that paper first!”
Grant smiled. “In that case, back to BSing my way through it.”
Hailey rolled her eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t roll your eyes. Everybody knows it’s the key to collegiate success. The best BSer wins,” Grant said confidently.
“Is that so?” Hailey rolled her eyes.
“Of course it is,” Grant said, without missing a beat as he scribbled cursive onto a sheet of blank notebook paper.
Hailey read what Grant was writing, noticing the difference his newly puffy hands made in his handwriting. “BS…Brilliant Scholar?” she asked. “Beyond Smart? Best Student? Brainy Savant? Brightest Sage?”
Grant grinned. “Sage?” he gestured toward her book. “Don’t even act like you knew what that word meant before you read it in that vocabulary lesson.”
“I did know what it meant!” Hailey exclaimed. “I use that word all the time!”
“You’re gonna force me to say it again,” Grant winked. “Because I am calling total…”
Hailey laughed as she popped his arm. Her nose wrinkled as her mouth stretched wide, revealing a line of tightly clinched white teeth. “Sorry,” she gulped, gently rubbing his arm.
“Well, now you’ve got to make up for that,” Grant shook his head as he tossed his folder of make-up work aside.
Hailey leaned into Grant, kissing his lips with tender affection. “We can’t do this,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be the one to give you some nasty germ that lands you back in the hospital.”
“The kiss of death,” Grant joked.
Hailey moved her hand to Grant’s cheek. His face was chubbier from the steroids, but his eyes held the same certainty they always had. For several seconds Hailey let herself get lost in Grant’s kiss. Each time their lips parted, they stared into each other’s eyes for a quick moment before rushing their lips back together to kiss with increasing veracity.
It was Grant who pulled away first.
“You okay?” Hailey gulped.
“Yeah,” Grant smiled.
“Tell me the truth,” Hailey insisted.
“I’m fine,” Grant laughed. “Just a little queasy.”
“Well, that’s just what every girl wants to hear!” Hailey chided.
“No offense,” Grant shook his head with a chuckle.
“It’s okay,” Hailey threw her arms up with a playful, exasperated sigh. “Maybe on our wedding night, I can manage to make you completely nauseous with my feminine allure!”
At this point the protocol was familiar. Grant walked in and sat up on the table where a familiar nurse directed him. He nodded to the man on his right, who, as a way of introduction, simply said, “lung cancer.”
To which Grant replied, “AML.”
The man, in his late seventies if not early eighties, wore a simple, plaid, button- down shirt, khaki pants with an elastic waist and a floppy, green fishing hat that made Grant smile.
“Harvard?” the man asked, taking notice of Grant’s baseball cap.
“Yes, Sir,” Grant nodded. “I’m finishing up high school now, but, as soon as my doctors give me the go-ahead, Harvard is the plan.”
“Good for you,” the old man said with a respectful nod.
A nurse walked over and set Grant up with his chemotherapy treatment. “How ya doin’, Tom?” she asked the old man.
“I’m still here,” Tom said, and the nurse offered him a caring pat on the shoulder as she hurried off to attend to other business.
“They gave me six months,” Tom said, surprising Grant.
“How long have you been in treatment?” Grant asked.
“About a year,” Tom shrugged easily, and it was obvious that the small, yellow sheet of paper folded in Grant’s hand had caught the old man’s attention. “What’s that?” Tom asked, perhaps eager to change the subject.
Grant held up the folded paper. “My girlfriend likes to put a note in my pocket every morning that I have to come get chemo while she’s in school. It’s probably a Bible verse.”
“That’s nice,” Tom said, looking down.
“Yeah,” Grant nodded, unfolding the paper. “Do you mind?”
