Chapter 19: No

The scan came back on a Thursday, and the oncologist smiled for the first time since I had known her.

"The nodes in your chest have shrunk by more than two thirds," she said. "The one under your arm is gone."

I did not speak.

Abel's hand closed on mine so hard that the bones shifted.

"It's working," I said finally.

"It's working. We collect your stem cells next week, and if they look good, you're admitted for the transplant in three."

"Three weeks."

I laughed, and then I cried, and Abel put his arm around me in the little exam room and said nothing helpful at all.

He bought me a muffin from the vending machine in the hall and watched me eat every crumb.

The lobby doors were thirty feet away.

I walked through them with Abel beside me and my gray cap in my fist, because I did not feel like covering my head.

Dexter was in the plastic chair by the window.

He stood up when he saw me.

He had been coming every Thursday for three weeks, and every Thursday he sat in that chair and did not speak, and I had let it be.

Today he looked at my face and knew something had changed.

"It's good," I said. "Two thirds smaller."

His face crumpled.

Then it righted itself, with an effort I could see.

"I'm so glad," Dexter said.

"Thank you."

"May I ask you one thing? Not for money. Not a favor."

Abel stood a step behind me, quiet.

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