Still, I Cannot Save You by Kelly S. Thompson

Author:Kelly S. Thompson [Thompson, Kelly S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

seventeen

The end-of-April air had a chill even as tulips pushed through mulch and robins scratched at snow-flattened grass. I checked the time and watched the main entrance of Royal Victoria Regional Health Centre from my parking spot, where I sipped a Tim Hortons iced coffee that was laced with sweetness, despite having requested sugar-free. I didn’t need the caffeine, much less the sugar high. I felt like an overstretched elastic threatening to snap.

My phone blinked.

Meghan: All finished.

I threw my car into gear and zipped towards the hospital entryway, then leaned across the console to push the door open for Meghan. “All good?”

“Yup.” She settled in, pressing on the tiny bandage that sat like a bull’s eye in the crook of her arm. Five other bandages were scattered nearby where the phlebotomist must have struggled to find a vein. “They’ll wait for my blood test results to come in, then I’ll meet with the oncologist. Anywhere from an hour to longer, the receptionist said—which, by the way, is an awfully loose timeline when you’re literally waiting to find out whether or not you’re going to die. I’ll lose my mind by then.” She put her face in her palms while I drove and tried to summon a response.

Google had informed me that her specific chemo medication was a last-ditch effort for advanced ovarian and pancreatic tumours—cancers that communicated time in months or weeks, not years. Meghan approached this oncological checkup like an ostrich, just as she had all the others. Our parents had wanted to come to the appointment, as support, they insisted, but Meghan wanted only me and begged me to stop Dad from pushing his way into the car as he called out promises we knew he wouldn’t keep. I won’t ask any questions! I’ll stay quiet the whole time!

I can’t stand it, Kell, Meghan had said as we drove away. I’m too tired and scared to make them feel better.

“How about we keep busy at the mall? A little retail therapy.” I eased us into highway traffic.

“There isn’t enough retail therapy in the world to make me forget all this. Especially when I only need new bras because I look like no one feeds me.”

We were beyond pretending she didn’t look sick, laughing when we used her haunted look to skip a line or get a free latte from the gullible Starbucks barista. The burls on those trees are bigger than my tits. Look on the bright side, at least you’ll go out as the skinny sister. We snickered, looked around like teenagers caught smoking during free period. But in the space between breaths, a palpable knowing strung between us like a tether.

“Don’t take Cundles, for Christ’s sake,” she screeched. “We’ll be in traffic forever. Watch out for that pedestrian. God, you’re driving so slow.” She pointed this way and that.

“Did you want to drive, Miss Crazy Town? Or can I master my own vehicle?”

“Sorry. I’m being controlling. I’m just . . .” She looked down into her lap, picking at the cupid’s bow of her lip.

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