Sinner's Creed (Sinner's Creed #1)(86)

—

When Saylor is asleep, I call Donnawayne and Jeffery and ask them to come over. It’s only been ten minutes and they are at the front door. Judging by their disheveled looks, they came in a hurry with no regard to their appearance, which speaks volumes for them.

“I need a favor,” I say while I pour my coffee. My back is to them because I can’t look them in the eye. I know it’s stupid. They care about Saylor too, but it’s a blow to my pride to ask them for help when I should be able to handle everything.

“Whatever you need, Dirk.” Donnawayne’s voice catches me off guard. I know he is doing this for Saylor but the fact that he is addressing me says we are making progress.

“I shaved Saylor’s head this morning.” This time, I meet their eyes and the room is filled with a silent sadness so thick you couldn’t cut it with a knife. “I don’t know much about fashion, so I was hoping y’all would go get her a wig or some head scarves and shit. Something to make her not so self-conscious. We all know how important her hair was to her.”

“We will take care of it. Anything else she needs?” Jeffery asks, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face.

“Some more pajamas. Maybe some that button up.” Diapers probably wouldn’t be a bad idea either, but I don’t want Saylor having to wear those. I could never ask her to do that. Cleaning her didn’t bother me anyway.

They go to leave, and I have to force them to take the wad of cash. I don’t know their financial situation. All I know is that she is mine and I will take care of her. When I tell them this, I might have growled it because they stopped arguing.

—

Wednesday, Saylor stayed in bed. She was so sick Tuesday night that her body was too physically exhausted to get up. I’d had to carry her to the bathroom, and even hold her head while she was sick. Her mouth was covered in sores, making it painful for her to talk and impossible for her to eat. Due to her condition, Dr. Zi sent over the home health nurse again to administer more fluids.

Donnawayne and Jeffery came over Wednesday evening, and I had never been more thankful to see them. They brought not only wigs, scarves, and pajamas, but large, cloth changing pads, new sheets, Pedialyte, Ensure, and a home spa kit. After the fluids, Saylor was marginally better and was able to drink a bottle of the grape-flavored Pedialyte.

I stood in the doorway and watched her smile through her cracked lips at the men as they modeled all of her new wigs. She chose the short purple one to wear to treatment to match her purple stage-three dose of Skittles. Saylor told me to get out of the house awhile, but I couldn’t leave her. I didn’t want the responsibility to fall on Donnawayne and Jeffery, but after thirty minutes of them convincing me that they could handle it, I finally gave in.

I was missing my bike, and was more than surprised to find it sitting at the clubhouse. Shady had pulled it on a trailer back with him when he brought our car. His kindness earned him a hug from me.

After only an hour of riding, I was anxious to get back to Saylor. I found her in bed, with green mud shit on her face and cucumbers on her eyes, wearing one of her new scarves and gowns. A straw sat in a half-empty bottle of Ensure, and an empty bottle sat beside it. The sight of her relaxed and not sick and in pain made me smile.

Then I noticed the two men who lay on either side of her. How had I not noticed them? They too were covered in green mud and cucumbers, wearing jogging pants and nothing else. Both of them held one of Saylor’s hands in theirs, and even though it made me feel weird, I grabbed Saylor’s camera and took a picture of them together. Either they were asleep, or they didn’t know I was here. I was betting on the latter.

—

Thursday was more of the same. The vomiting and diarrhea were now pure liquid, and the mouth sores were so bad I called the doctor again. He called in a prescription for some kind of medicated mouthwash and told me to have her rinse with it every couple of hours. Because of the pain, we had only done it twice today.

Without my knowledge, Saylor had asked the guys to pick her up some of those adult pull-on diapers. I didn’t realize it until I found her struggling to remove it. I helped her take it off, put on another one, and we never said a word about it. I just kissed her on her head, told her she was perfect, and was rewarded with a smile.

Carrie came over that night and painted her fingernails and toenails, then laid in the bed and watched Sex and the City until Saylor fell asleep. Before she left, she told me she was only a phone call away, which was reassuring considering she was a friend and a nurse.

Every day, Saylor managed to find the time and strength to write in her diary. And I always managed to find time for myself too. But, if it was pushups in the hallway or TV in the living room, I was always only a few steps away.

By Friday, Saylor was so sick I was afraid she was too sick for her treatment, but she managed to find the strength to tell me to help her get dressed, that she was going. So I did. And that included putting on her purple wig.

When we got to the hospital, the report from the doctor was good, even though Saylor was anything but. Since she hadn’t been prone to any infection, or had yet to be hospitalized, they felt confident that her body was responding well to the treatment.

But it’s Monday and we are at the emergency room at UMC. Saylor came down with a fever earlier today and when I called Dr. Zi, he said to bring her in. I’m watching her sleep and listening to the monitor around her beep while they pump her body with antibiotics and fluids. She’s lost a total of fourteen pounds and it shows. She looks small and fragile, almost lifeless. And the good doctor just informed me that things are fixing to get worse.