Together—You and Me - The Epilogue

Shelly squeezed Amy's hand. "Give him room. It will be a shock for both of you. Don't hide your body from Dean. He needs to adjust, as well. Amy, I'll leave my card with you. We'll talk when you get on your feet. That's when it will really hit you." Shelly gave her a big, strong hug. "Do you think you are attractive?"

Amy wiped a tear. "Yeah, I do."

"That's what I like to hear."

"How will he take it, after I'm, ah, cut?"

"I don't know. Some men handle it quite well, other can't."

A few quick taps on the door and then Dean popped his head in. "Safe to come in now?"

"Sure is."

Dean stood in the doorway.

"Amy, promise me you'll think about what I said."

"I will."

Amy watched as Dean's eyes followed her out of the room. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing much. She's a volunteer, and we talked a bit about the surgery."

"Oh."

For the next half-hour they waited, and they talked about nothing in particular: the weather, the kids, and work.

Dean didn't like to wait. He was a man of action, and patience was not one of his strong points. Sitting in the room, he felt like a man with fire ants crawling inside his gut. Several times during a lull in their light conversation, Dean would get up and pace. Then he'd peek outside, and watch the nurses as they scampered from one room to another. He took a few steps out, and when he returned, he noticed Amy's bottom lip quiver. Like water overflowing a dam, the tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Amy thought about what Shelly had said about her boyfriend leaving. "I'm scared!" She wailed so loudly it hurt Dean's ears.

Dean rushed to her side, and took her hand. "We talked about this before."

Through tears, Amy explained, "It's not the surgery. I'm scared you won't be there when I wake up. You'll be gone..."

Dean took her hand, and tried to console her. He looked at her arm, and he noticed that the filament-thin hairs stood like a cornered porcupine. A million stiff little goosebumps popped. "I'll be right there. You know that, don't you? Always faithful."

Just then, Naomi entered the room. "Did you see the cat? Must have 'cause I sure heard it scream when someone stepped on its tail." Naomi came to the side of the bed.

"She's having bit of a rough time," Dean said.

"So I heard." Naomi looked at Amy's chart. "Let's see what he has down?" She studied the medical hieroglyphics on the paper and quickly returned it to its hook. "He's a good surgeon; there's a standing order from him if a patient needs something to calm 'em down before they go upstairs."

"That would be great," Dean said.

"What're you in for, honey? They don't put that on the charts anymore. Privacy thing, you know; they won't tell us."

Right this minute, this very second, the reality of the past six months struck him like a satchel charge, and the first real chills seemed to dance in the corridors of his heart. Dean felt as green as a billiard table. He looked at Naomi's eyes that gleamed at him like the eyes of a curious old barn cat. He wet his lips.

"My wife, Amy, is scheduled for a double mastectomy this morning."

A brief smile flickered on Naomi's face for a few seconds. "Well, then, I'll pour her a double."

Dean patted Amy's shoulder. "She'll bring you something to make you feel better."

It seemed only seconds ticked by when Naomi returned, a small hypo in hand. She pushed the needle into the IV stint. "You'll feel better in a minute or two. This stuff acts quickly. But this is all you get." She winked at Amy. "Besides, too much and you'll end up talking to dead Indians."

"I don't know any Indians; dead or alive."

Naomi's smile returned. "That's my point." She took a few steps toward the door and then stopped. "Shouldn't be too much longer."

The drug quickly worked its magic and Amy's world went in and out of focus. Her arms and legs went limp. "That's good shit." Amy rolled her head so she could look at Dean standing beside her.

"When this is over, we'll go shopping for a long black evening gown with a slit up the side," Dean said.

"What do you mean?" Her words came out slowly.

"I know someone that has a dream about being a spy and getting caught. Terrible-good things happen to this lady."

Amy stared at the ceiling, while tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. They broke free, and trickled down her cheeks. "Say, how about saving those tears for something more important than this?" He cupped her face with one hand while she slipped her right hand into his. Amy nuzzled her face into Dean's palm.

Amy didn't speak, but her eyes spoke volumes. "We have two daughters who will marry, and the mother of the bride always cries, so save these tears."

Dean's voice became low and soft. His eyes bright and clear as a Colorado summer sky. "You know, thirteen years ago, I told you that you were a pretty good catch. I was right.

"Amy, life is nothing more than a series of choices. You and me, we made the right choice. We made the right call. Trading two breasts for another fifty years with you seems pretty damn good in my book. I love you, Amy. I always have and I always will. Semper Fi."

There came a tap at the door, and Naomi walked into the room followed by a young man wearing a green smock and matching green booties over his shoes. "Your chariot awaits. It's time to go up."

"Hi," the man said.

"May I tag along?" Dean asked, while he pulled the back of his arm across his eyes.

"Sure, but only to the elevators."

Soon Amy's bed made it's way down the hallway and toward the surgical elevators. Amy watched the fluorescent lights flash overhead one-by-one. The man stopped, and pushed the call button. "This is where we part."

Dean leaned over, and held Amy's head in his hands. He whispered against her lips. "I love you, Amy. God knows I do." He kissed her gently and squeezed her fingers. The elevator doors swooshed open. "I'll see you on the other side."

Dean watched as the bed entered the elevator. The bed rolled to a stop. "Wait a second," Amy asked. She rolled her eyes toward Dean looking into the elevator. In a glassy whisper Amy said, "Semper Fi." The doors sealed, and she felt the elevator move.

"Were you in the Marine Corps, ma'am?"

"No. But, my husband is."

"Still on active duty?"

"No, but a wise old man told me you can take a man out of the Marines, but you can never take the Marines out of a man." She stared at the ceiling. "I've never known a braver man than my husband. But, I've never seen fear in his eyes like I had just now..."

"We'll take good care of you."

The door opened and soon Amy found herself in a row with other patients along a short wall. A young nurse wearing a brightly colored SpongeBob squarepants smock walked to her bed. "I'm Mary and I'll be prepping you for surgery."

"How long?"

"Won't be too much longer. I'm going to give you a few things, and get you prepped for the anesthesiologist." The nurse emptied a few hypodermic needles into the stint. Amy watched as the nurse vanished in the controlled confusion of the pre-op area.

She stared at the ceiling. The drugs began to work on her body. She couldn't feel her toes anymore. Then her fingers and arms seemed to vanish. She couldn't move. Her eyelids grew heavy and she fought to keep them open.

Suddenly, an image flashed on the screen of her mind. It was high school. Then she heard the sound of an old slide projector. The sound of the mechanism as it moved another slide into place. Her first date. College. The dance where she met Dean. Another slide dropped. Now they seem to flash, one right after another. Who, she wondered, was pushing the button? The Kodachrome images were so vivid they looked alive. More slides illuminated on the mind's screen; now even quicker. Their first night together. The promise they made at Molly's. The images moved faster. Dean's suicide attempt. Images roared by. Dean's marriage proposal. The birth of her children. The pictures seemed to flash so fast they became nothing but a blur. The photographs were colliding and exploding into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Then they stopped as suddenly as they started. All she could see in her mind's eye was the most brilliant, pure-white light she ever saw. She tried with all her might to raise her hand to touch what she could see, but an unknown pressure pushed on her head. She sucked in a breath of air; the light went out.

*****

Her eyes opened slowly, and she saw what looked like a giant upside-down ice cube tray hanging from the ceiling. It was bright; she tried to turn her head away. She felt someone touch her hand.

"Hi," the voice said, "welcome back."

She tried to speak, but couldn't. Her tongue seemed to be stuck to her lips. Every pair of dirty socks in the world seemed to have been stuffed into her mouth.

Amy noticed something cold on her lips. "Here's some crushed ice." Amy opened her lips. The melting ice felt so good.

"When... When is my surgery?" Amy stammered.

"You're all done. You're in recovery. In a few hours, you'll be in your room."

In the twilight of her mind, she smiled. "You're a nice lady..." And Amy drifted back to sleep.

*******

Amy's eyes opened slightly. She saw a blurry face and as her vision cleared, it didn't take long to discern that it was Dean looking back.

"It's about time you woke up."

"Where am I?"

"In your room. Your surgery is over."

"Oh... It feels like you parked your Jeep on my chest."

Dean's infectious grin brightened the room.

"Your surgeon talked to me while you were in recovery. There were no cancer cells in the surrounding tissue or lymph nodes."

Amy moved in and out of her world. "That's good?"

Dean's smile didn't diminish. "That's excellent news, Amy. You beat it."

Amy moved her head ever so slightly. "No... Together, me and you, beat it." She moved her hand along the bed sheet and Dean put it into his palm.

"That's right; you and me." Dean squeezed her fingers gently. "I promised you I'd be here when you woke up, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

Dean put his finger to her lips. "Hush now and rest."

She nodded as tears pooled in her eyes, then Dean brushed them away with his thumb. He placed his hand along her cheek, caressing her with his fingers.

Amy looked at her husband through teary eyes, and then Dean began to softly sing...