~Chapter Three

Almost ten years later:

Beth had stood staring unblinkingly at her image in the mirror for what seemed a lifetime, but just then was suddenly caught off guard by her penetrating eyes gazing back at her soulfully.  She jumped.  What was it her dad had always called them?  

Oh, yes, she remembered.  Iridescent blue.  A familiar wave of nostalgia swept over her and she had to bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling.  It was certain days, like these, when every memory of her dad would come flooding back to her, catching her off guard.  It was certain days, like these, when he should have been there.  He would have hugged away her tears.  He would have teased away her nerves.  He would have smiled away her sorrow.

Not ever again.  

Beth's hand reached out and traced her reflected image with her fingers on the cold glass.  Sometimes she swore she saw her dad staring back at her, smiling that dimpled smile that could warm her to her toes.

He's dead.  

The sudden thought chilled her to the bone, and her hand froze mid-air, and then dropped mechanically at her side.  It was as though Beth hadn't known this truth for years, as though she had just heard the news for the very first time.  It left her just as paralyzed as it had all those years ago when she had been just a girl, too young to lose a father, too young to understand just what sort of an impact death could have on a person.  

She tried to shake herself free from dwelling on the past again.  She knew it wouldn't bring him back.

Now, tentatively, she reached up both hands and ran her fingers through the few thin, faded strands of brown hair that had just started to grow again.  It was the one thing that brought the softest smile to Beth's pale face, because, to her, the way her hair was ever so slowly beginning to grow back was like the first signs of spring. 

Something new and beautiful appearing after what's dead and lifeless.

The doctor's words continued to resonate in her mind from a few months ago: "It's going to be a big change for you.  Take it easy-- step by step, day by day."  

She could still remember when she'd first come home and her initial phobia of what her reflection in the mirror would reveal, which is why she'd kept herself away from it until she couldn't bear it any longer.  When she'd finally given in, she had hated to see how her figure had vastly changed.  And she was, still, so thin-- unhealthily so.  Her fingers felt around her sagging waistline of her old jeans, now, and remembered how they had once fit her perfectly.  They had been hanging in the closet in the same spot they had always been when she had returned after being confined in the hospital for so long, as though wanting to tell her nothing had changed.  She had been eager to get back into her comfy and familiar settings.  Everything-- to the smells of her brother's strong cologne and the blond hairs of her golden retriever that clung to her clothes in little patches-- reminded her of how it used to be.  She longed for her former life with such an intensity that sometimes scared her.  Just be content, her heart cried.  This is the new you, now.  You might as well get used to it.  Things will get a whole lot better in time.  

"Beth!" her mom's call from downstairs jolted her back into reality.  "Are you ready?!"

Am I ready? she wondered.

"Oh, come on, get a grip," she reprimanded herself.  "You know you can do this."  

And if you can't, then just act like you can.  

Her mom could read her like an open book, and, with one glance at Beth, she could easily send her back upstairs and in bed, insisting there was always tomorrow.

Today, Beth was putting her foot down-- hard.  She was determined, even though she had become terribly self-conscious of herself, she was going out today.  She was going to get back to normal and she was going to fit in.  Somehow.

"I'm coming," she called weakly and grabbed her phone and backpack, walking carefully down the stairs, clinging to the rail until her knuckles turned white.  The haunting memories of her sickness-- or disease, some might say-- was going to end starting now.  

My cancer might have affected my body, but I will not let it affect my spirit.

~*~

"You know, we don't have to do this."  

Beth wasn't one bit surprised at the entreaty.  She had been sitting across her mother in the passenger's seat, content to watch the many acres of farmland roll by outside her window without trying to fill in the silence with something shallow and meaningless.  She avoided small talk as often as possible, which had caused her, without realizing, to create a tighter cocoon around herself like an imprisoned caterpillar.  All she wanted was to drink in this peaceful quiet she had nearly forgotten existed-- yet the whole drive she had felt her mother's tension; it hung around her like a black cloud.  She didn't have to voice it for Beth to see that it was there.  Beth knew it like the back of her hand.  Her mom just wasn't ready to let her go.

"We can turn back right now and go home, watch a chick-flick, pop some popcorn, and yada yada.  What do ya say?"

Beth, without turning to look her way, only shook her head.  "Don't you think I've been hiding out long enough?"  Her voice was almost a whisper.  "I feel like I'm some sort of refugee, trying to hide from someone or-- " she threw her arms up in the air, "well, something."

Her mom didn't find the comment at all amusing, and, no matter how lame the analogy, Beth wished she had laughed.

You used to laugh, Mom, she thought.  All the time.  When's the last I've heard it?  Beth recalled it sounding like music.  More than once she remembered her dad had glanced at her and older brother, Charlie, amidst a joke that had caused her mom to giggle uncontrollably and he'd wink, especially at Beth, whispering how "her mom" sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl.  Beth, merely a toddler at the time, had laughed her childish howl, and her mom had just smiled, shook her head, and attempted, but failed, to appear greatly annoyed at her dad's teasing.

It was funny how her parents had fit so perfectly, though quite oddly, for her mom was the less emotional one; or perhaps it was that she always wanted them to see her as a perfectly happy mother.  On the contrary, her dad was always more blunt, never afraid to hide his emotions, and spoke in a way that was nothing less than inspirational.  He not only adored her mom more than anything else in the world, but her and Charlie, too.  There was never a question about it.  He had been her hero.  As just a child, Beth had thought them to be a picture-perfect family.  Her almost college-age brother, Charlie, had always been the fun-loving, teaser type, which he got in his genes straight from Dad's side of the family, and, when he was just a tyke, had always called Beth by her nickname "Bethie."  The name had stuck and Beth had always enjoyed playing the part of coddled little sister.  He hadn't changed even when she was inflicted with her leukemia, not so many years ago now.  She was glad she had never lost him, as she had her dad.  In some unusual way, though, she felt she had lost a part of her mom for always.  If she used to mask her feelings before, she became a professional at it, now, and never allowed painful, past experiences to be brought up.  Yet the one thing she couldn't hide were the new worry lines that creased her forehead, and they weren't so easily overlooked in Beth's eyes.  She knew her sickness had caused quite a toll on her mom.  Then again, that certainly wasn't the only thing that had... 

~*~

Well, this is it, Beth thought in her moment of distraction, taking an enormous breath when she saw the high school building coming into view.  Can I do this?  Not allowing herself to ponder this major decision, Beth immediately opened the car door and hopped out.  

"Now, listen, Beth, if you don't feel well or anything else happens, you call me, alright?" her mom began nervously, her hands fluttering about like a restless hummingbird.  "And, if not that, at least inform your teachers, okay?"  To both of these questions, Beth only nodded in attention.  "Oh, and don't forget about your medicine.  And please, please don't overwork yourself, ya hear?  Promise me."

Beth gulped, and nodded for the third time, almost wishing she could break down her barrier of pride and beg her mom to take her back home.

Chip off the old block, Dad would say, she thought.  A good dose of pride seemed to run in their family. 

Before she could gather any courage to get the words from her lips, her mom's car was already crawling away.  She couldn't run after her-- tell her that she was afraid.  So, she stood there stock-still, in the midst of the parking lot, feeling terribly out of place and alone.  She felt a tight knot in her stomach as she made her way to the door where other students were already gathering-- most of them in too much of a hurry to notice her, which she was relieved.  She clung to her backpack more closely.  Okay, you've made it this far.  All you need to do is breathe-- in and out.  Just breathe.

Author's Note

Here you meet Beth. <3 I already love her so much and I think your heart will really be touched by her story, which, by the way, is based on TRUE stories of three people in my life, one of them being my amazing friend, Maggie <3 So, while you read this, picture the emotions, picture Beth's life, picture it all happening for real... because, for people I know personally, it was as real as it gets.