Reesa understood the tradeoff inherent in chemotherapy, namely, that for the cancerous cells to die, some healthy cells would too, but this didn’t change her aversion to the side effects.
“Are you comfortable, Mama? Do you need your blanket?” she asked Hazel. They, along with a cheerful Joanne Adkins, were spending their afternoon at Rhode Island Hospital.
“I’m fine, honey. More than fine. I can’t believe I’ll go from being hooked to this machine to getting shots after today.”
Reesa, in one of the first genuine expressions of joy she’d displayed since returning to Providence, smiled.
“Now that you’re feeling so good and strong, we can be partners in crime,” Joanne said.
Hazel’s face took on a look of horror. “Girl, no. If I let you, you’d have me out here playing numbers and joining your fake book club.”
“Fake?” Reesa asked.
“Yes, fake. They don’t talk about books. They make snacks and gossip.”