Chapter 41: Chapter 40: Hippie Chics Bank Their Karma

Okay, we haven't seen a picture of Cam in this series, have we? I imagine he's pretty adorable:

Ashlynn, ten minutes ago

Walking Cameron back to bed doesn't feel like reality. It feels like deja-vu. I feel like I'm high.

Now, Cam has collapsed into the bed, and I've got the covers over him. He's shivering, and I'm holding his hand. He's stroking his thumb on mine, just like the first time he held my hand. And just like the last.

But something's wrong inside me. I don't feel what I should be feeling. I should me feeling...more for his situation, but all I can do right now is work the problem.

My head is pulsing with a hundred ways in which I can make him feel better. I adjust his pillows.I sit closer, my hip against his side. I glance at the bedside table. He has water and two pill bottles, and I'm sure my mother has made him take his medications. I offer him the water, and he dutifully takes a sip. From the grimace, I know he can barely stomach it. I lay my other hand on his head, stroking his hair.

He smiles at that, and I smile back, but I can't feel it. Not like I used to.

What's wrong with me? Cam is horribly sick and he needs someone to care for him and there is no one on this whole damn planet that should be feeling more for him in this moment—in this situation—than me.

He was so loving, so sweet, so good to me, for the nearly seven years we were together. He never did a single thing wrong. It was just that life fucked us. I know he loved me, and I loved him. Our intimate life wasn't all that super hot, but that's not the only measure of love. I have loved Cam since I was fifteen years old, and I know what I have to do now.

I have to take care of him, because I still love him, even if I don't feel it like I used to.

When I look at him, my mind is made up, but my spirit refuses to cooperate with the task. It feels like my heart is stabbed full of Novocaine.

That's kind of strange, considering all the years I self-medicated to kill not only the pain in my head but my feelings for Cam. Now the feelings of love have faded naturally, because there is just not room for them. I'm entirely filled with loving Leed.

"You shouldn't be here," he says, wearily searching my face. I open my mouth, but he squeezes my hand to stall my words. "You shouldn't be here, but I'm selfish, and I'm glad you are. It's...it's going to get rough, and I can't imagine your mom..."

"Shhhhh..." I coo. "You're pretty sick, Cam, and you have a right to be selfish. I'll take care of you. Whatever you need, until you are better." I will. He's right. He needs me. I know exactly how rough it's going to get. What kinds of things Cam did for me, when I was hurting too badly or too high to take care of myself. Of course he wants someone who knows him...intimately.

He closes his eyes. Without their dark warmth, his face seems grayer. "You have to take care of yourself."

"I can do both. I've got my  self-care down to a science, now. I'm good. You just have to trust me that I know how to balance things."

"It's not that I don't trust you. I know how you put other people first," he says hoarsely. I sigh. He does know me. Or at least, the old me.

"Maybe that was true once, but I figured out I can't be any good to other people if I'm not healthy myself.  So...you'll just have to suffer quietly while I do yoga twice a day."

He smiles weakly, his eyes still closed. "If you let me watch, maybe that would ease my suffering."

I swat at his arm. "Don't flirt. That's not going to fly," I tell him gently, trying to set the boundary right now, so he understands.

There's a long silence.

"Because of Lawson?"

At the thought of Leed, my heart clenches, pain bursting through the numb feeling. I try to keep my voice steady. "Yes, because of Leed. But he'll understand why I need to help you right now."

His eyes open and he focuses on me, almost reluctantly. "You're together now? Really together?"

"Very. But...he's the best person I know. He'll understand," I repeat firmly, willing it to be true.

Cam's eyes close again, but his hand grips mine tighter. "This is all kinds of fucked up. I'm sorry...for asking this."

"You're not asking. You don't have to ask, okay?" My voice is wavering, but my intention is resolute. I can do this. I will do this.

"Okay," he gasps, and his face is drawn as if he suddenly feels worse. "Damn...it's best if I don't talk...if I lay perfectly still and quiet...I don't feel as sick..."

I rise. "Of course." I move to the en suite bathroom, bringing the small plastic waste basket to his bedside, along with a cool cloth I put on his forehead. I take his phone from the bedside, find my name in the contacts, leave it expanded on the main screen, and place it on the bed just beside his hand. "I'll let you rest. I'll be back in just a bit. If you need anything, just press call, okay?" I shake my own phone at him.

I reach the door before Cam croaks, "Ash...thank you. I really am...so fucking sorry for needing you like this. I know it's not fair to you."

The pure desperation in his voice makes me return to him and kiss his damp forehead. I was hoping to feel some of his tension release, but if it does, I can't tell. My lips are leaded with Novocaine, too.

When I close the door, I walk slowly from the guest apartment through the sunroom, trying to return to reality. The beautiful one that has so recently and so completely twined me with Leed.

I hear his voice, calm but dangerously earnest.

My sister used to say love is a loser's game. One way or the other, you always lose. To meaningless betrayal, or to the discontent that breeds over time. Maybe to another that loves better than you, or maybe you lose to tragic circumstances. And if none of those kill your love—even if you love for a lifetime—sixty or seventy years on, one of you loses. Love always ends with a broken heart.

You know what? I don't fucking care. I will make loving Ashlynn worth it. No matter when or how it ends. No matter if she changes her mind one and decides Cam Martin, or a Cam Martin, and the white picket fence are what she really wants. No matter if she stays with me and we live the rocknroll life until it kills one of us. I will love her with joy. Not with fear of the loss that's coming, sure as fuck, one way or the other. That's how much I love your daughter...I'm willing to take the L for her. Happily.

The way he says the last word—happily—with a kind of crazed, self-aware joy—there's no Novocaine in my heart anymore. Only pure ache, because I am too damn far from him.

But that's an easy fix.

Suddenly I'm in his arms, and unexpectedly sobbing.

I can't stop. I love Leed so much and and I'm so heartbroken that Cam is sick and I don't want this thing that is happening now. I just want Leed.

He gives himself to me. He wraps his body and his spirit around me and he comforts me wordlessly for a long time. I'm aware of my parents and I don't care that they are watching. At some point I guess they leave, because when Leed finally speaks, we are alone.

He takes the edge of his t-shirt and wipes my face free of tears and mascara. He dips his head, his eyes meeting mine with patience. "Are you crying because you heard what I said and it hit you that hard—how much I love you? Or are you crying because you want to stay here and take care of Cam?"

I'm crying for both, but I want Leed to understand how much I only want him. I take his face between my hands and meet his eyes.

"I'm crying because I wish we were back at the cabin. Out of service range. Now and forever."

His mouth lifts on the right in that adorable way of his. "Is that all?" he says mildly. "We are still there, Sunshine." He pulls my hand to his heart, and puts his on mine. "Nothing can take that away."

I want to cry again, just for the love of this beautiful man, but I decide to be brave for him instead. "Fuck," I say.

He laughs because he always thinks it's funny when I curse. "Fuck, indeed." He kisses my forehead. "You have a plan? Or the beginning of a plan? I've got your back, no matter what you want to do here..."

His eyes are light—full of emotion—but every other part of him is at ease. His smile, his spine, his muscles beneath my hands—they are all pliant, flexible. In stark contrast to the sharp, startling color of his eyes. He already knows what I'm going to say, has already accepted it, everywhere except his heart. Just like me.

"I want to do the right thing. I want to take care of him. At least until he feels better from this first round of chemo. I don't know what happens after that."

He nods. "I figured." After a long moment. "Where's his mom again?"

"Australia. I'm sure she wants to be here for Cam, but I doubt she can come."

His lips tighten. "Why's that?"

"His sister lives there with her Australian husband. She is heavily pregnant with twins. Her first baby was still born last year. It's a very scary time for her. It's why Cam's parents moved there."

"And the fiancee? What happened?" Leed's voice is calm but it has that gravelly lion's edge.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to Cam since LA." I turn in Leed's arms. "Mom? Dad?" I call. "Can you come back? We need to talk."

My parents, who were hovering in the other room, probably as anxious over my emotional outburst as they are over anything else, are suddenly back. My mother is gently extricating me from Leed, looking me over with worried eyes.

"This is not your responsibility. I can manage Cam. He's like a son to me."

My mother is so different than I remember her growing up. She used to look much more like Kat—warm, tan, compact, earthy, strong. She's fragile now—thinner, paler, slightly slower in her natural movements. Gone is the ball of energy she used to be, the relentless force that underpinned our family, supporting us in every way.

I shake my head at her. "You should have told me you were sick. I can understand why you didn't tell me after my accident, but you should have told me last fall. I could have helped you."

"You needed to focus on recovering your own life. And anyway, I'm better." Despite what she says, she looks like she is still struggling, more than I am.

"So am I. And I'm not leaving you to care for Cam alone." I take turns looking them all in the eye. "I need to be here for him. It feels...necessary. Like I'm called to it. Like karma."

My dad is nodding. "Of course. I knew you would feel that way, Sweetheart. Which is why I had concerns for both you and your mother, but...well...here we are. Maybe it's better for both of you if you help each other care for him." He looks at Leed. "So what happens? If you are staying, does that mean Leed stays to?"

Leed puts his hands on my shoulders. "I...I can't. I have my son next week, and...babies and cancer patients don't really mix, I don't think..." Leed frowns.

I stiffen.I feel so connected to Leed right now, the idea of him not staying in Atlanta with me hadn't even occurred to me. I hadn't thought that through. But he's right. Even if Tamara is cool with Leed traveling with Ollie, he shouldn't bring him here right now. Cam's immune system will be low because his chemotherapy is trying to kill off his cancerous white blood cells and Ollie's immune system is just developing. Cam has been in and out of hospitals and doctor's offices—serious germ incubators for bad bugs. He will be at risk for secondary illnesses. Ollie doesn't need to be around a new environment where he could pick up a virus via Cam, and Cam doesn't need to be around Ollie, who might bring an unfamiliar virus from the West coast. They could easily make each other sick.

I turn back to Leed. "I hadn't thought of that, but you are right. You'll need to go back to LA. But it will just be a temporary thing...us being bicoastal...right?"

Leed makes a dismissive sound and wraps an arm around me. "Of course. This is just a trial run at the rock star life, baby. Next time it will be me, going on the road, and you needing to be at your job or something." He pats my back, kisses my temple. "Life is messy. We'll make it up as we go along. We'll make it work."

My dad and mom exchange a glance. My mom's eyes fall somewhere in the vicinity of Leed's stomach and her mouth twitches into a small smile. I realize she's looking the the streaks of mascara, makeup, and snot on his white t-shirt that doesn't bother him at all, but for some reason, seems to amuse her. "Let's make some tea and I'll tell you both what I know about Cam's treatment. And his fiancee."

It's strangely normal, sitting around the kitchen table with Leed and my parents, drinking chamomile tea. My parents seem much more relaxed now. It wasn't just me that was moved by Leed's "I'll take the L" speech. I think he's begun to win them over. Truthfully, my mom probably already liked him. Leed's charm is hard to resist. I think what he said has at least given my dad a slightly improved opinion.

My mom does most of the talking. She explains what Cam's mother told her. Cam's been feeling fatigued for months, but thought he was just worn down from a couple of rigorous rotations in med school. After he had to leave a surgery observation last week, his supervisor insisted he get a work-up in the ER, and that's when he found out he had Hodgkin's lymphoma, a cancer in which his white blood cells are growing out of control.

Things happened fast. He had a surgery to remove an involved lymph node before he even called his parents to let them know. He's apparently very calm and optimistic about his prognosis, and insisted his parents stay in Australia with his sister. His parents agreed, because they thought Michaela would be caring for him. But when his mother called her, Michaela wasn't returning her calls. Finally, after a confusing text exchange, Michaela explained to Cam's mother that she and Cam had called off their engagement and she had already moved out of their apartment. She said she was aware of his diagnosis, but she needed a clean break and could not be involved in Cam's care, even under such serious circumstances.

"Damn, that's a cold bitch," Leed mutters. I pat his leg.

"You don't know that. We don't know what happened."

He grins. "I know what happened. Dude came to LA, saw you looking fine as hell, accidentally said your name in bed while he was giving it to her and she freaked out and dumped his ass—"

I slap a hand over his mouth, "Just shut-up, you cretin!" I'm laughing, though. I'm glad Leed can joke about this situation. At least he's not angry.

My mom looks amused at our exchange, my dad looks...uncomfortable. "Sorry," I shrug. "Leed has no filter. You get used to it." I cover my face, because I'm blushing, thinking of the outrageous things Leed sometimes says. Especially to his "Honeypie."

My dad clears his throat. "Well, whatever the reason for Cam's broken engagement, Leed has a point. This situation could be...emotionally complex. You are very easy to love, Sweetheart."

"On that last part, we are in perfect agreement," Leed tells my dad, lifting his tea cup. After a swallow, he turns his lips to my ear, but his words are still loud enough for my parents to hear. "But your dad is also wrong. It's pretty fucking simple from where I stand. I don't care how sick he is, if he touches you, I will have no qualms about kicking his cancer-ridden ass...so you better make sure he understands...you're my girl and he's just getting the pity treatment."

I slap Leed's thigh. "To be the best person I know, you are truly awful sometimes."

He sets his cup down and throws himself back in the chair with a chuckle."How awful I am in this situation is entirely based on your ability to keep your ex in check, Sunshine," he grins at me.

"I already told him you and I are together. You have nothing to worry about," I murmur.

"Good girl," Leed growls. His body is still relaxed, draped back in the chair, but the tone of those two syllables is pure Lion. He holds my gaze, and I can't look away. Finally, he gives me the chin tip. "Good," he repeats more softly, and he takes my hand under the table.

After that, we talk about Cam's treatment. My mother says Cam will probably have four rounds of chemotherapy, spaced a month apart, if he's responding to the treatment as his oncologist expects he will. I figure I'll stay with him at least a week for right now, maybe more depending on how he feels. I know chemo patients usually feel better between their chemo treatments and can resume their normal activities, especially in the early rounds. I don't think I will necessarily be hanging out with him full time for months, more like nursing him during his most acute needs.

"Maybe I can fly back to LA next weekend?" I say hopefully.

"It's all good," Leed shrugs and repeats, "We'll make it up as we go along. If he still needs you, I'll come back to Atlanta when Tam gets back from her honeymoon. He'll have to share, Sunshine."

I beam at him. "You're amazing."

He tosses his head arrogantly. "Pffft...I know."

My dad snorts. My mom pats his leg. "He's joking, dear."

I laugh. He's not, but maybe it's better if she thinks that.

I pull out my phone and start making a list of things to do. Call Kat, have her pack up my things in Nashville and take them back to LA with her. I have a few days worth of clothes but I'll need to orders some stuff online. I want to read up on Cam's condition. I need to call Ravi and Gabe and let them know what's going on.

"You have an acupuncture appointment next week, right?" Leed prompts.

"Shoot. Yes." I add canceling that and looking for an acupuncturist in Atlanta to the list.

I add picking up some toiletries to the list. And some greens for juicing. Cam needs lots of anti-oxidants right now.

While I'm thumbing in my list furiously, Leed and I get a group text from Marley.

Are you guys still coming?

Leed groans.

"You have to go. You told him you were coming," I tell him regretfully.

Leed runs a hand over his face. "Fuck," he growls. It's the first time I have seen any frustration over this whole situation.

I glance at my parents. "We were supposed to visit Bodie. He's...living in Atlanta now..."

"Bodie's the drummer?" my mother says. "Well, perhaps he should visit here."

"He's in no shape," Leed says grimly. "He's detoxing. Well, he'll be detoxing for a while, I guess..."

"What does that mean?" Ellen looks confused. "A detox usually only takes a week or so..."

"He's on a step-down regimen." Ash says quietly. "Methadone treatment."

I see the look on my dad's face. Disapproval. "Your drummer is injecting prescribed opiates and you think it's okay for Ashlynn be in the mix with that?"

"Do I think it's okay to put Ashlynn in situations that make her sobriety difficult? Of course not." Leed snaps. "But this isn't one of them. We aren't going to shoot up with him, we're going to support him, for Chrissakes. He isn't just, 'our drummer,' he's my best fucking friend. He's been MIA since the end of our tour and we've all been worried as shit about him, and now that he's committed to kicking his habit, we are all committed to supporting him. And you know what else, man? The world is full of people with prescribed opiates, and Ashlynn is no innocent to that. She could get pills anywhere at any time, and she knows that. She chooses to stay sober, and it's my job to support her sobriety, not police her interactions. I'm not her keeper." He looks at me with tenderness. "I trust her to run her life. Completely."

The way he says that, with such conviction, it washes over me. Leed's love is like an ocean. Wave after wave. Powerful. Buoyant.

My dad doesn't have much to say after that. Again, I reluctantly encourage Leed to visit Bodie and he reluctantly agrees that he should. I walk him out. He brings my luggage inside the door, while I stand on the porch, looking at Trace's old house. It's vacant, still for sale.

Leed wraps his arms around me, following my gaze.

"Does it bother you, like it bothers Trace?"

"His old house?" I shake my head. "Maybe it should, but it doesn't. I didn't remember at first...my accident...you know. Trace told the police I tripped down the stairs and that's what I thought happened. But later, I remembered the argument Trace and his dad had. His dad was angry that Trace let Kat get drunk, that we were hiding it. I think he was also worried that Trace and Kat were being inappropriate...sexually...because she was so young, and he was trying to figure out if that's what was happening. It was...a dad's normal reaction, but it spiraled into a confrontation because he was drunk and back then...Trace was hugely aggressive, interacting with his dad. I got in the middle when they started shoving each other. I know Ross is accountable for knocking me down, but he had no intention of hurting me that night. I also know what it's like to live with the things you've done to hurt other people. I'm an addict, just like his father is an alcoholic. I don't blame him for my accident. Not like Trace does. If anything, I just feel sadness for what Trace has been through, when I look at that house. Plus, I hate to see it vacant. My parents said it doesn't sell because the new owners are getting divorced and they are upside down in the mortgage. Neither party can afford to take a loss on the property, but I wish they could get their asking price, so they can move on. And I wish someone could bring some happiness back into that place."

Leed turns me from the house. "You have enough to think about, besides worrying about divorcing neighbors and sad vacant houses."

"I know," I wrap my arms around him. "Like how sucky this is going to be."

"Oh, you won't miss me at all. You'll be too busy cleaning up puke," he assures me with a distasteful nose wrinkle. He looks so cute like that.

I kiss his nose. "Well, you'll have your hands full of poopy diapers and baby spit-up," I remind him.

He grins. "I don't want to talk about puke and shit right now."

"No?" I ask. "What do you want to talk about?"

"The phone sex we are gonna have?" he says hopefully.

I roll my eyes at him. "Is that all you think about?"

He grabs me to him. "Let's review the facts. I abstained for five months, waiting for you. I've had you for three days and I'm in a dry spell again, thanks to Dr. Cock-Blocking-Cancer-Patient. Not to mention,  I'm leaving you to play nurse to his doctor, knowing...fucking knowing...that the second he feels strong enough, he's going to have his hand around his dick, with you as the angel of his fantasy. So yeah, I think feeling sorry for the bastard and yet perversely horny for you at this moment is a completely justifiable reaction on my part."

I grab his t-shirt in fisted hands. "You have no reason to be jealous. I'm wild about you. You are the only one that gives me butterflies and giggles and wet panties."

Leed bites his lip while smiling. "Butterflies and giggles and wet panties, huh? Sounds like a song lyric..."

I slap his chest. "Don't you dare write a song about me like that!"

He pulls me tighter. "I can't make any promises, Sunshine."

"I can. I promise I'll miss you like crazy. I promise, this changes nothing, between us..." my words fade into the kisses I plant on his lips. He respond with a passion that takes my breath away.

Butterflies and giggles and wet panties, indeed.

Then my phone buzzes in my back pocket. He pulls it from pocket and sighs. "Dr. Sick-Bitch needs something, apparently."

I shake my head at his unending fount of insults for Cameron, kissing him lightly twice more. "I should go."

"Me too. To the airport. After Bodie's, I mean."

"I know." I'm disappointed, but it makes sense. The airport is on the complete opposite side of Atlanta, near Bodie's new place.

He takes his head in my hands. "I love you, Ashlynn. I even love you for this—that you are the kind of person to do this. Even though it sucks, it's still a beautiful thing you are doing."

I tear up again. "Thank you for understanding. I love you, too. So much."

My phone rings again. This time it's my mother.

He kisses me quickly, with fervor, and shoves my phone into my hand. "I think they need you. Go. This isn't good-bye. This is I can't wait to see you soon." One more solid embrace, one more kiss, and he turns and bounces quickly down the steps, jumping in his car and not looking up at me as he roughly bounces down the driveway.

As I watch him speed away, I realized I just learned something new about Leed.

He doesn't do good-byes.