K. Bromberg - Slow Burn

I clear the lump in my throat, the ever-stoic Colton Donavan showing just a tad of emotion to someone other than his wife. The notion touches me deeply, and I squeeze his biceps and mouth, Thank you , as I’m spun around in another direction.

I land squarely in the arms of my mother, who pulls me in and squeezes me so tight, I can’t breathe, and my tears have nowhere else to go but to leak from my eyes. “I love you so much, my Haddie,” she whispers through her own tears. “We’re going to beat this. No question.”

I nod my head, unable to speak from the emotion clogging my throat. We stare at each other for a moment when she looks down and notices my new necklace. “Wow, so beautiful,” she says to me, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth as I think of Lex and our jokes about Mom’s damn necklaces.

For the next thirty minutes, I feel like I’m on a constant spin cycle, being pulled from one pair of arms and well-wishes to the next. My dad, then Danny, and so on.

My cheeks hurt from smiling, and my heart overflows with the love and support surrounding me. Love and support I thought I could do without but now realize how much I need it.

I hug an old friend from PRX when I turn around and come face-to-face with Becks, his arm around the shoulder of an older woman. When she looks up, there is no mistaking the resemblance between mother and son.

She’s beautiful, with hair the same color as him, tall in stature and graceful in her movements. When Becks nods my way, she turns her face so her eyes meet mine, and the smile that spreads on her lips is so full of warmth and welcoming that the nerves I’d normally have meeting his family are nonexistent.

“Mrs. Daniels?” I ask, holding my hand out.

“Oh shush,” she says, stepping forward and pulling me into her arms. “I do hugs, so get used to it.” She squeezes me tight and keeps her hands on my shoulders when she steps back. “So nice to meet you, Haddie. She’s so beautiful, Beckett,” she says, looking over to her son with an approving smile, which makes him roll his eyes and me laugh at his discomfort.

“Nice to meet you too. Sorry it’s in this fashion.”

“Nonsense. It’s Trisha, and don’t you go apologizing to me!” She furrows her brow just like Becks does, and it warms my heart. “I’ll let you go, but I wanted to come meet this girl my Becks here was telling me I had to make lasagna for. I know if he’s sharing it, he must really like you.” She pulls me in tight and hugs me again, her mouth close to my ear when she speaks. “It’s okay to use my boy when you need strength. His back won’t break if you do, but his heart just might break if you don’t.”

She presses a kiss to my cheek as she steps back again, her hands sliding down my arms to grab my hands. She squeezes them as I accept the advice she’s just given me and realize how true it is.

“My Becks here is a good man…. I’m all for him ruining your lipstick, but if he ruins your mascara, you need to come let his mom know so I can put him back in his place.”

“Oh, Jesus, mother!” Becks barks out, cheeks flushing, and it’s rather adorable.

My grin spreads from ear to ear as I look at Trisha, her eyebrows raised to make sure that I’ve heard her request. I nod my head. “I will.” I laugh out.

“Now, go be with your friends. My boy is going to walk me out because I just wanted to meet the girl I’m making dinner for once you feel up to it. So nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

Trisha starts to walk away, Becks already beginning to scold her, when she stops and turns to look at me. “You wouldn’t happen to have a pair of pink flip-flops, would you?”

I look at her for a moment, my forehead scrunched up in confusion since she’s thrown me for a loop. “Yes, several. Why?”

Trisha’s grin spreads to megawatt proportions as Becks swears again. “Perfect. I just knew it!” she exclaims as he walks her toward the door. I can hear her voice chattering away excitedly the whole way there.

What the heck was that all about?

I turn around and take in the whole scene. My friends, my family, all of them are here to support me, and I feel truly blessed. I wander over to the table of food, only slightly aware that I have only so many hours left I can eat before my presurgery food cutoff time.

I grab an appetizer from the table, making small talk with everyone, and accept a cocktail when it’s placed in my hand. When in Rome, right? I reach the end of the table and the laughter starts again when I see the cake. It’s the torso of a woman, with a matching bra and panty set, but it’s what’s written on the abdomen of frosting that cracks me up. “Save your bumps, check for lumps.”

“Funny, right?” Becks’s voice is in my ear as his arms slide around my waist and pull me back into him.

I close my eyes and accept his warmth and the calm that comes with his touch. “Thank you,” I whisper into the crook of his neck, my eyes squeezed close as I accept the risk he took throwing this party tonight.

“Well, Rylee helped a lot, so she deserves most of the credit, but we figured you were worth it,” he teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“A lot worth it!” Rylee’s voice is to my left. I turn, still in Becks’s arms, to face her and belt out a laugh to find her with a trayful of shot glasses filled to the hilt with amber liquid. “If this toast was needed at any time in our lives, it’s tonight,” she says with a gleam in her eye, referring to our salute, which has stuck with us through college parties, bad boyfriends, and all the things life has thrown at us.

I step out of Becks’s arms and help her place the tray on the table so nothing spills. When I turn to hand one to Becks, I notice that almost everyone in the room around us is double-fisting full shot glasses like the ones on the tray. I guess I was too absorbed in my boob voyage cake to notice.

Ry grabs a glass and hands me one. “You ready?”

I grin with a nod to her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” And the look she gives me tells me that she knows I mean more than just slinging back shots.

“Okay, everyone! On the count of three. For my best friend, my sister from another mister … time to make cancer your bitch.” The crowd around us hoots and hollers, me included as we all raise our first shot glass in the air. “One, two, three …”

“One for luck and one for courage!” The entire room erupts into a synchronized toast before falling silent as they toss back the first and then the second shot. Cheers erupt, followed by people swearing as the burn hits their throats.

And hell yes, it burns … but it also feels so good right now. All of this, all of them, because it means I’m alive. The thought causes more than my throat to burn as I blink back the tears that sting my eyes now as the entirety of the moment hits me.

I fall silent as I take it all in, my eyes watching everyone I love around me, and I don’t realize I’ve zoned out until Becks removes the empty shot glasses from my hands. “Sorry,” I tell him, startled at how lost in thought I was.

And I think he can see the emotion that’s running rampant within me because he steps up and brushes a soft kiss to my lips. “I think it’s time to step into the ring, Ms. Montgomery,” he murmurs, trying to break me from my funk by turning our bodies toward the inflatable boxing ring. “You need to get a little practice in…. Hit me with your best shot.”

“You’re on, Country.”

“I’m sure I can find one of those sexy ring girl outfits somewhere you can put on.”

I punch him in the shoulder at the comment and shake my head.

“You’re gonna have to hit me harder than that. You fight like a girl.”