AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She reluctantly got up–her tired knees threatening to give way when she arose. On her way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, she stopped to run hot water in the shower.
At least it was the weekend, and she didn’t have to see Keegan and have her spidey mom-sense know something happened. She didn’t have to meet Erin’s eyes and have a conversation about why her mind was a ping-pong ball–the very cliché of Katy Perry’s Hot n Cold.
She stepped into the shower and let the boiling water rush over her body in waterfall strides. She stood under it until her pale skin flushed under the heat. She picked up her white luffa and put her favorite cashmere scent on it.
The warm musky fragrance filled the bathroom, swirling around her in hot strands, caressing her skin. As she rubbed it over herself–the suds forming and dissipating over the valleys of her body–she gasped in pain when it touched her left breast.
It was tender right beneath the nipple, sore almost, as she grazed the soft sponge over her. She hesitated, gently running her fingertip beneath the swell of it. There was a small bump, an almost unnoticeable hill that changed her familiar terrain.
She panicked, her stomach turning to knots as the luffa dropped from her grasp and sprayed bubbles up the surround of the shower. She quickly turned and rushed through the curtain, almost slipping on the suds beneath her feet.
Water pooled on the tile below her, dropping off her in connected rivers as the water pounded in the shower behind. She stood in front of the foggy mirror–her naked body pink with warmth–as she wiped the condensation, it trickling down the edges of her reflection. Gently, she pulled her breast towards her.
It was almost unnoticeable–barely even there as she looked and touched its presence. Has it always been there? Like a mole you forget you have on the back of your neck until you reach back to scratch it? Or was it a new invader who had mistakenly docked at the wrong shore?
Julia’s hands shook as she dropped them to her sides, the action in slow motion reflected back at her in the mirror. This can’t be happening. Life had done a good enough job–no, a fantastic fucking job–kicking her in the ass as it was. She didn’t need this, this possibility of something within her that didn’t belong.
Sure, she wanted to sink into that deep abyss more times than she could count, but not on the terms of something else. She wanted a choice. She needed to finally be the one who made the choice.
She was finally feeling more like herself. She was crawling at a snail’s pace at reclaiming it all, but she was finally moving. She was trying–trying to forget, trying to forgive, trying to move on. But just like that, the Jenga game of her existence removed one crucial piece, and she’s back to teetering.
Panic was something she became more and more accustomed to over the years. Panic in the overwhelming aspects of her job. Panic in the thought of living out the rest of her inconsequential life alone–never having another to share pancakes with on Sunday mornings, or stealing a kiss as the New Year’s Eve clock strikes midnight. Panic in the memories of a life not lived to the fullest; a life that never quite weighed as much as all the pressure she put upon it. Panic in not being enough, not doing enough.
Right at that moment, her panic was real. It took over her nerves, shaking her body to the core–her thoughts racing around a Daytona track. Her panic was time and the idea that there really might not be enough of it.
She picked up her phone with shaking hands, a wavering thumb hovering over her contacts. She knew who she wanted to call, who she wanted to wrap her in a comforting embrace.
Instead, she called the doctor she hadn’t heard from in years. Her tweety voice answered immediately, chirping about how long it had been. Julia couldn’t engage in the small talk, couldn’t waste another moment, and so she blurted it out mid conversation.
“I have a lump under my breast,” she gulped, leveling her voice.
She didn’t cry. The panic within her, squeezing the life out of every cell within her, didn’t reach her outside composure.
“Okay,” Dr. Rosel said quietly. “When can you come in?”
“What does this mean?” she asked, her quiet voice like a loudspeaker in her empty room.
“It could be a lot of things,” she said reassuringly. “We’ll get you in on Monday. We’ll take some scans, and we’ll tackle this together.”
Together. Just her and a distant doctor she hadn’t seen in more years than she cared to admit.
“Okay.”
“Is Marin there? Can I talk with her?” she asked, her voice full of satin comfort.
Julia’s chest clenched in agony. She placed one hand over it, twisting her skin into her fist until the pain was worse than what came from the inside.
“No. Marin and I aren’t together anymore.”
There was silence over the phone; too much silence. Why was there always so much silence? The type of silence no words could fill and make whole again.
“Do you have someone you can call?”
“Of course,” Julia lied.
“It’s important that you have someone, Julia.” She knew. Did everyone know? Was she made of glass, a spectacle for all to ogle at?
“I’ll see you first thing Monday morning, Dr. Rosel. Thank you for taking my call.”
