When We Were Young

Taking Sides

Rachel arrived the next morning with fresh orange juice and homemade banana bread. Apparently married life enhanced her baking skills. The bread was quite good. To say that she was happy that our reunion was a joyous one was an understatement. She still squealed in delight just like she used to do, except now the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth were more pronounced. I would have expected Rachel to have plastic surgery and I guess I underestimated her. She was growing old gracefully.

What I realized was that she didn't treat Skylar any differently. Sure she was careful when she hugged her but she didn't speak to her as if Skylar was sick. I wondered if I had been doing that and made a mental note.

"Andrew will be here soon," Rachel said, sipping her juice. "My husband," she smiled when I looked at her in question.

"Dr. Andy."

"Oh! Good for you," I teased.

Rachel grinned. "I have Skylar to thank. How do you think we met?" I was stunned, looking back and forth between them.

"Andy was the first doctor I saw when I was diagnosed. Rachel was with me."

"Is he still your doctor?"

Skylar shook her head and frowned. "He tries to be."

Now Rachel frowned and shot her friend a look of disdain. "Yes, when he tries to talk some sense into our bull-headed Skylar."

"What do you mean?" I circled the counter in the kitchen and sat down next to Skylar on the couch. She was shaking so I handed her the blanket from the basket on the floor.

"Please, Rachel. He just got here. He doesn't need to be..."

"Well, maybe you can talk some sense into her," Rachel said and sat on the chair across from us.

"I'd love to if I knew what the hell you were both talking about."

"Rachel, please."

"No. I'm sorry. I have done everything you ask. I argue with the doctors. Andy argues on your behalf, getting you what you want. Agreeing..." she snapped and then glanced at me slightly. "Agreeing to go with the treatment you wanted. But not this. I can't agree with you."

"Will someone please..." I started throwing my hands up.

"They want to put me in hospice care and I won't go."

"Web agrees, Maria agrees, I agree, your doctors agree, everyone agrees except Skylar."

"Stop referring to me like I'm not in the room and I'm not the one who has to live there!"

"You need help. You need someone to be watching you all the time to make sure," she choked on her words. "AJ can't stay here forever and he can't take care of you the way a nurse needs to."

"I know he can't stay here forever but I'm not going to live forever, so that's okay," Skylar snapped in her typical case-closed tone.

"God damn it, Skylar!" Rachel yelled and stood up. "Will you stop being so casual about the fact that you have people who love you and don't want to see you go?" She was crying. I had only seen Rachel cry once and that was the night of my going away party. She knew I was leaving and Skylar wasn't following, and she cried because she probably thought she would never see me again.

Skylar rested her head in her hands. Her shoulders were slumped over. "Rachel," she said a little breathlessly. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you. I know it is. But, this is my life. And I want to die with dignity."

"There's that word you always use. Dignity. Well, I don't want you to die. I want you to live."

"Well, I'm stubborn but I don't really have a say in the matter anymore." Skylar reached out her hand and Rachel took hold. "I want to be here, in my home, with you, and my brother, and Albert. Not in a hospital, not surrounded by doctors and nurses who can't do anything to help me."