Scars

His dad hacked so hard it scared Shane before saying, "How about the duct work?"

"That, too. Everything."

"We've got the special going. Did you tell her about that?"

Shane was going to answer him when he looked over on the nightstand and saw several tissues laced with blood.

"What the hell is that, Dad?" he asked pointing to them.

"Ah, it's nothing," his father replied waving dismissively.

"Coughing up blood is not nothing! How long has that been going on?"

"I dunno. A day or two maybe," Newt said before coughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"Okay, listen to me. This one time, you're doing this my way. You're getting up, getting dressed, and we're going to the hospital."

His dad started to protest but couldn't even talk.

Finally he said, "Doc Adams can give me some pills, and I can work through this. Just make an appointment for me with him, okay?"

Shane waited for the next episode to pass and was horrified when he saw his dad's hand covered with blood.

"Jesus, Dad! That's it. Get up and get dressed. Right now, you hear me?" he said feeling sick to his stomach.

"Okay, okay," the older man said.

When he threw back the sheets, Shane could see they were soaking wet.

Shane reached out and put his hand on his forehead and he was burning up.

"Damn you! Why didn't you say something?"

"I'm fine! Relax. It's just a cold or maybe the flu," his dad insisted as he tried to stand up. He barely made it to his feet when everything went black and he passed out cold.

Shane caught him as he fell and gently laid him on the bed then grabbed the phone and called 911.

He didn't even try to put something warm on his dad. He knew the EMTs would know what to do once they arrived. He ran to the end of the hall and tapped on the door.

"Yes?" he heard her say.

"Shandy? My dad's really bad. I just called 911 and they're coming to take him to the ER. But you just relax and..."

The door opened and Shane could tell she was covering herself with a sheet.

"I'm going with you," she insisted.

"No. No way. You need rest. Besides, there's nothing you can do for him. I appreciate the offer, but we'll be just fine."

He handed her the keys to his dad's truck then said, "I'll follow them in my truck, but if you need to go anywhere, feel free, okay?"

"Shane? How bad is he?" she said as she laid the keys on the dresser.

"He's got a fever, night sweats, and he's been coughing up blood for 2-3 days. Stubborn bastard!"

"Are you sure I can't help?" she asked.

"I'm sure," he said as they both heard the sounds of a siren getting closer.

"Can you at least call me?" she asked.

"Um...sure. There's a land line in the living room. I'll give you a call when I know something," he told her. "I gotta run, okay?"

"Yes, of course. Do whatever you need to do and if I can help in any way..."

"I'll let you know," he said as the wail of the siren grew deafening once it pulled into the driveway.

At least it was light outside when they wheeled the gurney out of the house and into the rescue vehicle. Shane knew both of the EMTS. One of them had gone to high school with him and he assured his old friend they'd take good care of his dad.

Shane hadn't cried since his mother's funeral, but he was on the verge when he watched them take his father into the ER after following the EMT vehicle to the hospital.

Several hours later, the doctor on call asked Shane to come with him where his dad was resting comfortably.

"We've given you something for the cough, but it's only temporary until the antibiotics take over. So far we've taken x-rays, done blood tests, and run a CT scan," he told them both.

"How bad is it, doc?" Newt asked him.

"I'm not gonna pull any punches, Mr. Kirby. You have a large mass on your left lung. We need to do a biopsy to be sure, but it sure looks like it could very well be lung cancer."

Shane watched his father turn his head to the side and stare at the wall.

"I shoulda quit smokin' ten years earlier," he finally said.

His dad quit shortly after his wife was diagnosed with cancer even though there was no causal link. Still, he blamed himself because of the second hand smoke all those years. It had been tough, but he'd quit. He just may have done so too late.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," the doctor said. "We need to be sure it is cancer and not just a very large granuloma, a benign mass. If it is then we'll need to see what stage it's at. From there we'll get you to an oncologist who'll devise a treatment plan. There's a whole lot we can do if it does turn out to be cancer so keep the faith as it could turn out to be something much less serious."

"What else can we do, doctor?" Shane asked.

"We'll keep him here overnight for observation. He's very dehydrated and he's on the verge of pneumonia in his right lung which is the cause of the fever and the night sweats. We'll pump him full of antibiotics and fluids and keep an eye on him. That and some good old chicken soup is about it until we do the biopsy."

"When will that happen?" he asked.

"It could be tomorrow if we have an open O.R. If not, we'll schedule him for the earliest possible time. I'd tell you to try and relax, but I know that won't do any good. All I can tell you for sure is we'll do everything we can for him from here on out."

"Okay. Thanks, doctor," Shane said still reeling from the news.

"Come here, son," his dad said quietly.

Shane stood next to the man he'd admired his whole life and willed himself to be strong.

"Look, I heard most of that. There's nothin' you can do for me here. But we got a full schedule today. You need to get to the office and get to work."

"Dad, come on. You gotta be kidding me. Did you not just hear what..."

"Shane? You said I had to do this one thing your way. I did it. I'm here. Now it's my turn. We're finally making some money and we can't afford to blow off a whole day's business. I'll be just fine. I promise," his dad said putting his hand on his son's forearm.

He wanted to argue but knew it was pointless. His dad was right. There wasn't a thing he could do for him except sit and watch him sleep or listen to him yell at the TV when he watched the news.

"Okay. Fine. You win," Shane said.

"That's my boy. The business'll be yours soon enough, Shaney Boy. Now go on."

He would have stood there and told him not to talk like that, but if he didn't turn away right then and there, his father would see the tears forming in his eyes, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

He turned his back to his dad, took a few steps, then without looking back said, "You stubborn old mule."

"Crybaby," his father said lovingly back knowing what his son was doing. He didn't fault him, though. He'd done plenty of it in private after his wife went into a coma and many times since.

Tears slowly fell down Shane's cheeks as the memories of going through this with his mom came flooding back. There was the diagnosis and then all the positive 'we can beat this thing' talk from his dad. They operated on her and tried chemo but nothing helped. Her deterioration was rapid and unabated. Then came the coma, and three days later she was gone.

He knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do, and he no longer believed in anyone or anything who could other than the doctors and nurses who'd be treating him. The feeling of helplessness was almost as bad as the disease itself. Almost.

It was a little after noon before he got in and started making calls to reschedule the routine appointments he'd missed. Pretty much everyone knew him and his dad and to a person they all wished him well and told him they'd keep Newt in their thoughts and prayers. He knew they all meant well, he just knew it was a meaningless phrase people said when they didn't know what else to say. If it did matter his mom would still be alive and well.

It was after 8pm before Shane realized he hadn't called Shandy.

"Shit!" he said as he stopped working on the furnace he was repairing and pulled out his phone and hit 'home' and waited.

She picked up on the first ring and said, "Hello? Shane? Is that you?"

The concern in her voice was palpable.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm really sorry for not calling, but..."

"No. That's okay. How's your dad?"

He explained what he knew and let her know when he thought he'd be home.

"Oh, my word. I'm so sorry," she told him. "I wish I had something more to say, but I know too well there's nothing more to say."

"Anyway, I'll be finished here soon, and I should back before ten," he told her.

"I made something for you. I'll keep it warm," she said sweetly.

"You cook?" he said trying to sound cheerful.

"I'm not great, but I'm a lot better than the guy at the diner, that's for sure," she said also trying to cheer him up.

"Wow. You're really something, Shandy," he told her.

"Me? Hah! I'm just trying to do whatever I can to earn my keep around here. You're the 'something', Shane," she told him sincerely.

"See you soon," he told her.

"Yeah. See you soon," she said sweetly before he hung up.

She sat there thinking back on how awful it had been with her mother and how badly she wished her husband had been there for her. But as always, he was so self-absorbed he couldn't be bothered, and like everything else, Shandy had been on her own.

And then she found a lump in one of her own breasts not ten months later. Tests revealed it wasn't cancer, but further tests revealed she had a very good chance of getting breast cancer at an early age just like her mother.

The hardest decision she'd ever had to make was doing what Angelina Jolie had done by agreeing to a radical double mastectomy as the best form of preventative medicine.

And now here she was in a total stranger's house feeling more cared for by someone too young to be taken seriously than she ever had by the man who'd promised to love 'until death to us part'. Perhaps he'd thought the vows were 'until with her breasts we do part.'

After hearing from him, she was now even happier about what she'd done to try and help out while Shane was busy taking care of his father and their small business.

Shane got in about a quarter past ten and just stood there when he walked inside.

"Is this okay?" Shandy asked with a hopeful look.

"Holy cow," he said as he looked around the room.

He knew things needed a little straightening, but until he saw it look like it used to when his mom was alive, he had no idea what a mess it had been.

As he kept walking, he saw three stacks of laundry all neatly folded on the washer-dryer. The dirty dishes piled in the sink were washed, dried, and put away. Both bathrooms had been thoroughly cleaned and his dad's bedding had all been washed and changed and any trace of the 'bio-hazard' area was gone. As if that wasn't enough, the entire house had been vacuumed and dusted.

"I know I went a little overboard. I was just so worried about your dad I had to stay busy, and I was so grateful for your hospitality I wanted to..."

Shandy saw a tear fall from his eye, and she instinctively knew it wasn't from weakness. It was from the build-up of stress. She knew he'd watched his mother die, and now his father might well be gravely ill. He had a business to run and a guest to look after and this act of kindness had pushed him over the edge.

She didn't say a word as she put her arms around him and her hand behind his head. She just stood there and held him knowing how he felt and wishing she could have done more.

"Sorry," he said a few seconds later. "I wish you hadn't seen that."

"Seen what? That you're a real, live human being with normal human emotions? That you're a loving person who's also kind and caring?"

"Okay, when you put it that way," Shane said turning away to quickly dry his eyes.

"Are you hungry?" she asked cheerfully.

"I should be starving, but not really," he told her.

"That's okay. It was just mac and cheese."

"Yeah, that's about all we've got around here," Shane admitted. "Did you eat?"

"A little. I had a piece of toast for lunch. I wasn't too hungry, either, though. I'm fine."

"Wow. What a day," he said as he finally pulled his coat off and set it on the couch.

Shandy didn't pick it up or even say anything. The last thing he needed was a surrogate wife. Well, in this case more like a surrogate mom, but still...

"You've been up since since I called this morning. You must be exhausted."

"I am, but I know I won't be able to sleep. I've got to be at work by seven, but if the hospital calls, I need to get over there right away, too."

He looked at Shandy and asked, "Did you miss work today?"

"No, I have today and tomorrow off, and I'm more than happy to take something to the hospital if you need me to," she told him.

"Thank you, but I'm more concerned about when they might schedule his biopsy."

It was a little after midnight when they realized they'd shared just about everything they could where losing their mothers was concerned while folding in Shane's concerns about his dad and the impending diagnosis. The only thing Shandy didn't share with him was her own scare with breast cancer.

"I think I might be able to fall asleep now," he told her during a rare moment of quiet.

"Me, too. I didn't work all day, but I've been up almost as long," she told him.

"You didn't work? Are you kidding? I haven't seen this place look like this since..."

"Your mom was alive?" she said filling in the blank in the sweetest way Shane could imagine.

"I just don't get it," he said as he sat there looking at her.

"What? What don't you get?"

"How could any man not love you with all his heart? How could he possibly not see how truly wonderful you are? That's what I don't get," he told her sincerely.

"I would give anything to hear my husband say something like that to me," Shandy said wistfully. "Or at least I would have before I gave up hoping it might ever happen."

The sadness was back in her eyes but only for a moment as she perked up and said, "Okay. How about we get ready to go to bed?"

Before she could even cover her mouth, Shane was chuckling politely.

"Oh, my goodness! I can't believe I just said that!"

"If you could have seen how big your eyes got!" he told her still smiling.

"All I can say in my defense, your honor, is that someone has shown me more care and concern today than anyone has in a very long time. So I plead guilty even though I didn't mean it like that. Cross my heart," she said as she made an 'x' over the place her beautiful breasts used to be.

"If I wasn't so tired I'd feign being offended at your being so...repulsed...by that notion," he told her with a smile as he stood up. "Then again, it's been so long since I went to bed with an attractive woman, maybe I should be thanking my lucky stars you weren't serious."

"I hate to admit it, but it's probably been longer for me since I went to bed with any man, so you're probably the lucky one," she told him as she tried to remember the last time she had.

Shandy smiled at him then went to stand up, too. Shane extended a hand, and after looking at him then down at the floor, she looked back up and accepted the offer.

"Come on, little lady. Let's do go to bed—separately," he said drawing another small laugh.

As they walked down the hall Shane said, "Something tells me that isn't true."

"What isn't true?" she asked not knowing he was referring back to the conversation about who the lucky one was.

"That I'd be the lucky one," he told her.

"Ah. That. Well, I suppose we'll never know, will we?" she said with a sweet smile.

They stopped when they reached his bedroom, and Shandy asked if he wanted to use the bathroom first.

"No, you go ahead. I think I might take a hot shower before I sack out. It'll save me a few minutes in the morning and every minute counts."

"Okay. I won't be long. I just need to brush my teeth."

"Take your time," he told her.

"Well, goodnight, Shane, and for the umpteenth time, thank you so, so much," she said with sincere gratitude.

"We wouldn't have it any other way," he told her.

"Okay, so...see you in the morning then," she said.

She smiled, stood on her toes, and kissed him on the cheek before saying, "Nite."

Shane heard the water running in the sink then heard it shut off. He peeked out of his room and saw her head down the hall to her room then went to take a shower.

He was normally in and out in less than five minutes having been lectured all his life about wasting water, but tonight he was so exhausted he couldn't sleep. He realized that seemed counterintuitive, but he'd been this tired a few times before and knew it was true. His hope was that a long, hot shower would do the trick.

Twenty minutes later, he stepped out and grabbed a towel. He dried off then realized he didn't want to have a wet towel in his room, so he draped it over the bar on the wall and decided to risk running the six feet to his room in the buff knowing Shandy was in bed and possibly even asleep.

Shandy was in bed but couldn't fall asleep because she'd been in such a hurry to let Shane have the bathroom, she forgot to pee. She heard the water running for what seemed like a very long time, and by the time it finally shut off, she thought she might burst.

She went to the door to wait so she could run back to the bathroom, and just as she peeked out, Shane did the same thing. She saw him and knew he hadn't seen her. She saw him quickly glance left then right, then dart across the hall.

She pulled back for a quick moment but couldn't help but look as he quickly walked to his room.

"Oh...my...God," Shandy whispered after getting a look at his naked body. She could tell he was in good shape, and she'd seen a little room in the house with dumbbells and a bench. But she had no idea he looked like...that. He wasn't a huge man, but he was very nicely defined from his shoulders to his flat stomach. And although she'd only gotten the briefest of looks, she was equally sure he was very well defined somewhere else after seeing something flopping around that reminded her of the band White Snake.

She closed the door and stood there feeling a tad embarrassed for having looked. She was also feeling something she hadn't felt in far too long after having seen this younger man's hard body for less than two seconds. That tight little tushy of his was so very...tight, while that snake of his was anything but little.

"Oh...my...God!" she said again to herself before peeking out into the hallway one more time. The coast was clear so she tiptoed back to the restroom thankful Shane's door was shut.

When the alarm went off at 5:30am, Shane felt like a million bucks, as he hadn't slept that soundly in months. The good feeling didn't last long, though, when he remembered where his dad was and why he wasn't just down the hall.

He checked his phone for messages or missed calls then pulled on some sweatpants and headed down the hall to the bathroom to pee. Just as he got there, Shandy's door opened and when she stepped out, she looked up then immediately almost jumped back into her room.

"Sorry!" she called out. "I didn't know you were up."

"I am dressed," he told her before realizing he was wearing what he always wore in the morning which meant he was only—half dressed. Then again, there wasn't normally a beautiful woman sleeping down the hall so it wasn't an issue.

"Um...that's not exactly dressed," she called back.

"Sorry. I'll go grab a shirt. You go ahead and use the bathroom, and I'll use my dad's."

Shandy watched him walk away and saw the huge oblique muscle on his side. She had no idea what it was called, but she knew that to be able to see it, there had to be a stomach equally 'ripped'. She laughed when the word 'yummy' came to mind. As with hair loss, she didn't need muscles and definition, but having them—and hair—were very nice added bonuses in a man. Or at least that's what she seemed to remember from a time in her distant past.