Anything but Ordinary(52)

A couple moved to the dance floor, a woman in a sundress and her partner, a guy with dreadlocks. Carter looked at Bryce. They stood up together, moving around the table to find each other’s hands. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her waist. They swayed through the second verse.

I see la vie en rose.

“What’s la vie en rose?” Bryce asked Carter.

“I think it’s just ‘life in pink,’” he replied, close to her ear. “The rosy life.”

Bryce could feel everyone’s eyes on the two of them in their formal clothes, but for the first time, she wasn’t self-conscious. She knew she looked beautiful. Surrounded by these sounds, beside the candlelight flickering on the tables, everyone looked beautiful tonight.

She met Carter’s eyes, which wrinkled at the corners as he smiled, looking her up and down. They drifted closer, and her head fell on his shoulder. She heard his voice near her ear again, his lips grazing her neck.

“I’m crazy about you,” he whispered.

In reply, Bryce lifted her head, holding up a hand to the music. “Hear that?” she asked him.

When you press me to your heart

I feel a world apart

A world where roses bloom

“That,” she said, and returned her head to rest on him.

They stayed that way until the song ended, and quite a long time after.





t Bryce’s insistence, Carter parked on a side street, far from the center of downtown, so that they could have a nice, long walk to Gabby and Greg’s rehearsal dinner.

“It’s one of the last nights we can go outside before winter,” Bryce joked as she took his arm. He had been silent the whole car ride over, and Bryce was trying to lighten the mood. Winter did come in Nashville, and sometimes there was even snow, but it was the opposite of winter this evening in early September. The humidity was almost unbearable. They might as well have been walking through a jungle.

“I guess so,” he said, his eyes ahead.

Maybe he was tired. Today they had traipsed through the home section of Bloomingdale’s, looking for Gabby’s wedding gift. A skinny girl in a crocheted dress and huge glasses had scolded them for lying on the beds, and Bryce could have sworn she overcharged them for the oak tree–shaped bookends they finally picked off the registry.

Then Carter had to put in hours at the hospital. He showed up at her door looking dashing in loafers and a sport coat with reinforced elbows.

Bryce wore a dark blue, vintage-looking dress with a low neckline and a tapered waist, the skirt flaring out just above her knees. She was starting to recognize herself in the mirror, getting to know the shape of her curves and how to wear color. She liked who she saw in navy. It made her eyes stand out in fiery hazel. She had put up her waves in a loose bun on the top of her head, and slicked on some of Sydney’s cinnamon lip gloss.

But Carter hardly looked at her.

Bryce looked at his profile. He had known her so long, and she was just starting to know him. But it was more than the start of something. So many days he had just sat next to her when she was asleep, when she was awake. He was steady, balancing her out, anchoring the other side of an always-tipping scale. She couldn’t wait for the day when he needed her. She wanted to give back to him.

“Carter,” she said, and stopped.

He took longer to stop walking, and turned around a few feet in front of Bryce. I love you. She could say it now. She should say it.

“Bryce,” he said, his tone even. She wrapped her arms around him. “Bryce,” he repeated, unhooking her arms, holding her hands.

“What?” she finally replied. She sniffed, trying to smile. Had things changed? They couldn’t have. They were in love this afternoon, she knew they were.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” His jaw clenched.

Bryce pulled her hands from his. He let them go.

He crossed his arms, looking at the sidewalk. “This afternoon I sat down with Dr. Warren and reviewed what we were able to salvage from your CAT scan.” He took a breath. “There were too many neurons firing at once, Bryce. Every time these neurons erupt simultaneously, there is damage to the brain.”

“So?” she said petulantly. She felt childish, but she couldn’t match the cold, flatness in his voice.

He cleared his throat. “The more damage the brain receives, the more it swells. The skull restricts the brain from expanding, and this leads to a rise in pressure within the brain. This rise in pressure quickly equals the arterial pressure, limiting the blood flow to the brain.”

“What does that mean, Carter?” Every time he avoided her eyes, her insides felt like they were being ripped out. “Can you speak English?”

“I’m sorry, Bryce.” He put his hands up to his face. His voice shook. “Your brain won’t survive the lack of oxygen.”

Bryce’s angry heart stopped pumping. Her furious breaths were caught in her throat. The whole world was frozen.

“What are you saying?” she said, her words almost a gasp.

“You have less than a month to live.”

Bryce closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening. Maybe none of this was happening. Maybe this was another one of her visions. Maybe she was actually somewhere else. Her mind went to the morning of the CAT scan. She wished she had gone calmly into the machine and lain there peacefully as she listened to the radio. She would emerge from the scan without ceremony. Everything would be normal.