Early Thursday morning, Dave sat with Dee in the back seat of the car as Beattie taxied them to the hospital. Holding Dee’s hand, he prayed that the surgery would go smoothly and that she would heal according to schedule.
Dee looked over at him. “Sweetheart, please wipe that worried look off your face. I’m going to be fine. I’m visualizing that nasty cancer leaving my body today and never coming back.”
“That’s a fantastic idea. I’ll think about that, too.” He smiled. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be comforting you?”
Beattie laughed as she looked in the rearview mirror at her passengers. “Don’t be fooled by Dee’s delicate exterior, Dave,” she said. “Under that soft skin is a woman of ...