“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They gave me all kinds of stuff to counteract the side effects and so far so good, other than the damn exhaustion.”

“Then sleep. I’m here and will get you anything and everything you need.”

“The only thing I need is you.” He kisses the top of my head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.”

“Your classes?” He’s always so worried about me, and how I’m dealing with all of this.

“My professors are awesome. I’m good.”

“Hmm. Good to hear.”

“Sleep, babe. I’m right here with you, if you need me.”

“Love you.”

“Right back to you.” I press my lips to his chest.

I didn’t think I was tired, but being in Drew’s arms, close to him, must have made me relax enough to fall asleep. When I wake up, it’s pitch black in the room. He’s still out, so I scoot out of bed and I’m shocked to see it’s after ten. I need to fix something to eat because my stomach just let out a huge growl, like Tony the Tiger. Then I chuckle to myself, thinking that’s probably what I’ll end up having to eat—Frosted Flakes. I doubt Drew has shopped for groceries with everything going on. But I get a big surprise when I open the refrigerator. It’s stocked full of things. So I grin and go to work.

Chicken and dumplings is on the menu, along with homemade chicken noodle soup. Those are two things I can cook and cook well. My mother taught me how to make them when I was young, and they are two of my specialties. Jenna always begs me for them, and Drew loves them, too. I’m just about finished with both when he makes an appearance in the kitchen.

And did I ever fuck up. He looks green. And then it smacks me in the face. The odor!

“Oh, shit!” I turn on the exhaust fan and light a couple of candles, but the damage is already done. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I was hungry and figured they would be a great treat for you.”

He has my favorite faded jeans on and a t-shirt and he says, “I’m just going to go and sit in my car for a minute.”

Now I totally feel like a douche. “Oh, no. I’ll open a window. The smell should be gone really fast.”

“It’s okay. I just need some air.”

I fist my hands in my hair. How in the fuck could I have been so damn stupid? The man just gets massive chemo, he’s bordering on nausea, and I’m in here cooking up a storm. What a dumbnut!

My first mission is to air the place out, so I open a couple of windows and burn some more candles. Luckily, everything I’ve cooked is done. I turn it all off and run outside to check on Drew.

He sits in his car with his head leaning back against the seat.

“Are you okay?”

“Just sweating. I got so nauseated, I was pouring the stuff.”

“Jeez. Nice to know your fiancée is a moron, huh?”

He laughs a little. “It’s all in the learning curve, babe.”

“Thanks for not being pissed off.”

“As if I could ever be that at you.”

“You never do get mad at me. Why is that?”

His head is still back and his eyes are closed. He shrugs and says, “What purpose would that serve? Anger only breeds anger. I get pissed at you, then you get pissed back at me, and it turns into a vicious cycle. It’s just better if I analyze my feelings and deal with them.”

I’m standing right outside his car, talking to him through his window. I lean down against the frame as I think about what he says. It makes so much sense, but most of us react before we process what’s happening. We don’t stop and listen to what the other person is saying. “How the hell did you get to be so smart and intuitive?”

“I’m not. I’m just a thinker.”

“I’m glad I fell in love with a thinker, then. And since you fell in love with a stinker, I’m going to check to see if the apartment still smells.”

I see his body shake as he chuckles. “Cate, kiss me first.”

Leaning in, I press my lips to his, then I run inside.

The smell leaves and Drew returns. It’s good to see green man is gone.

“I think I’m gonna be one of those people who gets affected by smells. Some people are fine with it, but I can already tell I’m not gonna be one of those.”

Putting my hands on his shoulders, I say, “If that’s one of your side effects, I promise not to cook on your worst days.”

“The weird thing is though, I feel like I could eat something.”

“I made chicken soup and chicken and dumplings. Want to try some?”

He nods. “Maybe a little bowl of the soup.”

I ladle up a little bit and he takes a few spoonfuls. “This is good, but my appetite isn’t in full swing yet. I’ve always heard how quirky chemo makes you. I’m starting to get that now.”

“I’m just happy as hell you were able to take a few bites. Why don’t you go and take a shower and I’ll fix you a glass of ice water.”

He gets off his chair and wraps me in a hug as I’m clearing his bowl. “You’re the best. Thanks.”

The next morning, Drew wakes up and shakes me.

“What is it?” I ask, flying out of the bed.

He lies there, laughing at me. “Damn, you’re jumpy.”

“You scared me!”

“I need a favor.”

“You woke me up out of the deepest sleep ever, to ask me for a favor?”

“Yeah.” He has his old boyish grin back and the sparkle in his crystalline blues has returned.

“You know I’ll do anything for you. What is it?”

“I want you to shave my head today.”

“Huh? Shave your head?”

Without any sadness, remorse, or regret, he says, “Uh huh. This mop of mine is going to start falling out in clumps and I don’t want the mess all over the house. I decided I want to shave it off to save myself the trouble. I have one of those barber clippers from when I used to wear my hair almost shaved. So, will you do it?”

“You trust me that much?”

He busts out in a knee-slapping laugh. “Seriously, Cate. I’m asking you to shave it all off. How can you possibly fuck it up?”

“You’re talking to the person who tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to wax Louise. Remember?”

“How can I forget? But I’m not asking you to wax my head. I wouldn’t dare do that.”

We both are in fits of laughter now. Finally I say that I’ll do it, as long as he doesn’t hold any fuck ups against me. So, later that day, I watch all of Drew’s gorgeous hair fall off as I work the barber’s clippers over it. And when I’m done, I can’t believe how damn sexy the man looks bald.

“You are the only man who looks as good without hair as you do with it.”

“Aww, you’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Get over here, Cate.”

I climb on his hairy lap and give him a smooch. “I hope you don’t usually ask your barber to do this.”

“My barber’s name isn’t Cate. It’s George. And no, I don’t. But he wouldn’t mind, because he’s gay.”

By Sunday, Drew is back to feeling pretty good. I hate to leave, but I have to get back to Purdue.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Go. You have a shit ton of stuff to do. And don’t try to fool me.”

I wrap my arms around him, hating to let him go. “I’ll call as soon as I get back.”

“And I promise to call if I need you.”

He repeats his treatments every Thursday for a total of three and then gets two weeks off. At the end of the first round, I’m at his place on a Saturday. He’s watching TV and I’m writing, and I happen to glance at him. His cheeks are as pink and flushed, almost sunburned looking.

Crossing the room, I touch his forehead with the back of my hand and he feels terribly warm. He has a thermometer in the bathroom, so I go get it. A half hour later, we’re headed to the hospital. One of the problems with chemo is it kills your white blood count and makes you very susceptible to infections. Chemo patients must be very cautious and if they spike a fever, they need to be admitted to the hospital. That’s where Drew ends up. He has what’s known as an FUO—a fever of unknown origin. And it can be life threatening. His temperature was one hundred three when I took it. I’m freaking, but don’t want him to know it.