Foul Ball
Chapter 41: Jayce

Two weeks went by without me hearing from Macey, and each time I stopped by the fire house to see if she was there or working, she never seemed to be. I didn't see her around in any of her classes, either, despite being asked by multiple professors if I'd seen her recently. I had to tell them what I told everyone else. No, I hadn't.

"Have you heard anything from Macey?" Candace asked one Thursday afternoon, leaning up against one of the door frames of the locker room. I glanced up from tying my shoe and shook my head. "No. She's still ignoring my calls and texts, and I don't really see her around campus, either. Every time I go to the fire house, she's not there. At least, that's what they tell me anyway."

Candace nodded, and I could tell by the way she was looking at me that she was debating whether or not to say what she wanted to say, and a squeezing sensation in my chest forced me to attention. "Is something wrong?" I asked, hitching my game bag over my shoulder. "Have you heard from her? Is she okay?"

Candace swallowed, taking a small breath. "It's none of my business, Jayce, but I've been volunteering at the hospital on the weekends, and I've seen Macey there."

"Oh," I said, disappointed that this was the big revelation. "Yeah, well she's an EMT right? She's bound to be there sometimes. Not that anyone sees her anymore, I guess. Maybe she went back to Michigan to see her-"

"That's not what I mean," Candace said, cutting me off. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was around, then she stepped into the locker room and closed the door behind her until it was just the two of us left. "I mean, she's there as a patient."

"A patient?" I repeated, and it took a moment for my brain to wrap around what Candace was telling me. "Is she okay? Is she hurt? Or-or sick?"

"I don't know," Candace said with a weak shrug. "I'm just a volunteer so I don't have access to patient files, but she's been there every time I've been there. She hasn't seen me, though."

"What floor?" I asked, and a huge part of me was terrified to hear the answer.

"I don't think I should say," Candace whispered. "She's the one you need to talk to, Jayce."

"What floor, Candace?"

"The third floor. Oncology."

~ ~

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a hazy blur, and even before the start of my last class I ditched early, heading straight to my car to drive home, to my mother's house. She was there, which was rare, and I felt like I had steam escaping from my ears as I pulled into the driveway and stormed up to the front door, opening it without even knocking.

I found my mother sitting at our old dining room table, a glass of wine a few inches from her fingers. She looked up when she saw me come in, but she didn't look surprised. Not even a little bit.

"Hi, J," she said, and I scowled at her.

"You knew," I snarled, knuckles clenched in anger on top of the dining room table. I wanted to hit something, to scream, to pull the fucking photos off the wall and slam them against the floor until the glass shattered and flew. "You knew and you didn't tell me."

"You know that's not how this works," Mom said. She reached for her half-empty wine glass and raised it to her lips but didn't drink before lowering it again. "It was not my business to tell you. I'm Macey's nurse, and that's all there is to it. There are rules about these things, honey, and I wasn't about to go behind my patient's back."

"All this time." I shook my head, cracking my knuckles between each finger. "Both of you have been hiding this from me."

"You know as well as I do that it's her right when it comes to deciding who to tell," Mom said. This time when she raised the glass to her lips, she took a long drink. "She's frightened, Jayce. Alone."

"She's not alone," I hissed, and my mom nodded, reaching across the oak tabletop to rest one hand on top of mine.

"No, she's not. But this is her business."

"So what is it?" I asked. "What type of cancer? Will it kill her? What's the survival rate? What can I do?"

"I'm sorry, Jayce,” Mom said, shaking her head. "Even now, I can't disclose anything. You'll have to talk to her." "Where is she, Mom?"

"Home, I presume," she said, and then added softly, "She's not scheduled to be seen today."

"I'm going over," I said. "I'm going to confront her."

"Is that a good idea, Jayce?" Mom asked, and I stopped walking, hovering near the front door. "Can you handle it if she doesn't change her mind? If she doesn't want you around?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I have to try. I-I love her, Mom."

My mom put her hand over her mouth in surprise, but she said nothing, only watched me go as I stepped out of the house and closed the door behind me, walking to the car. I knew where I had to go to next. I had to see Macey.

It didn't take long to get from my mom's house to the apartment Macey shared with her roommate, and relief pooled through me when I saw her little car sitting in the driveway. I sat there near the curb for a full minute, just staring straight out the windshield as the car idled, wondering if I was ready for this. Could I handle what was about to be thrown at me?

Shaking the doubt from my head, I pocketed my keys and crossed the lawn until I was at the door, hand raised. It trembled for a moment in the air, just hovering there, until I closed my eyes and knocked on the door.

It was probably less than five or ten seconds, but it felt like hours before the door opened and Macey appeared, her eyes going slightly wide as she stared at me from the porch.

“Jayce.”

"I know," I said, taking a step forward until I was in the doorway to Macey's apartment, hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jeans. She stood on the other side of the threshold, one hand on the door, the other hanging limply by her side. Her face was gaunt, hair limp, and exhaustion seemed to seep into every limb, but those brilliant eyes saw through me still, just like they always had.

"You know what?" she asked, but it wasn't a question, not really. She knew. I knew. We both knew.

"Can I come in?"

The hesitation was brief, but serious, and I feared she might just turn me away. But she didn't. Not this time.

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"Sure, come in." She stepped back to allow me through, into the darkness of the cold living room, shutting the door behind us. A single lamp near the sofa provided some light, but not much. On the couch, a thick, well-used throw blanket sat crumbled. A pillow, too. Ignoring these things, I turned to Macey, and only then could I finally see the truth in her eyes. The fear. The terror. The sadness, loneliness, and desperation.

She needed me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I reached out for her, and she didn't shy away as I took her in my arms and pulled her against me, feeling her tremble beneath my touch as I rested my lips on top of her head and closed my eyes, fighting my own emotions.

"I didn't want to drag you into this," she said with a quiet sniffle. "I didn't want this to hold you back from your potential."

"Potential? What are you talking about?"

"Your baseball." Macey pulled away from me then, forcing distance between us. "Your life. I wasn't going to be that person, Jayce. I couldn't be the one to take it all away from you."

"You don't seem to understand, baby," I said, closing the gap between us once more. "You are my life. You have given me everything, not taken it away."

"Oh, God." Macey shook her head, eyes pinned on the wall behind me. She allowed me to hold her, but she still didn't hold me back. Not really.

"What is it?" I asked. "What kind is it?"

"Leukemia," she said, forcing out the word like poison. "It's aggressive, and it's fast, and they've already started me on chemotherapy. It's why I've had to miss classes and haven't been able to work."

"Jesus." I closed my eyes, resting my chin on top of her head. Even though it had been less than two weeks since I'd seen her last, she'd lost weight, and just holding her reinforced just how dangerous this thing might be. After a moment I held her out in front of me, gripping her shoulders, and Macey sniffed.

"Listen to me," I said firmly, and she shook her head, ready to breakdown again. "Listen to me," I insisted. "You're not alone in this, baby. Do you understand? I'm here for you. I'm here for you."