Choosing a Chance

“Happy Anniversary, Sunshine,” Jake said as he set large white plates on the hospital’s over-bed table.

It wasn’t the exact day, but it was close enough. Five years dating before five years of marriage. Jake felt incredibly lucky. He married the most beautiful, kind and funny woman possible. Just the chance of them meeting was stroke of luck.

They were both in school at the time. He was taking accounting at Dalhousie and she was taking child and youth study at Mount Saint Vincent. They met at a bar that neither of them went to.

Jack wasn’t much of a drinker, but that night his friends had talked him into going. She didn’t live nearby, but she was soothing a friend going through a breakup. Even then, the bar was full, so the chances of him getting her number was even slim. Not only the chance of him asking, but the chance of her saying yes. But he did, and she said yes.

Her room was full of all sorts of decorations. The nurses had helped her hang up all the get well cards from her grade three class. There were several vases of flowers and stuffed animals. Many of which came from Jake.

“They’re not going to let you light those,” Rachel said as he placed two white candles in the middle of the table.

“Good thing I didn’t ask for permission then.”

It took a few tries for the lighter to come to life. The candles flickered as he rolled the table over her lap.

Rachel noted how crowded the small table looked with the full dinner Sept up. “This is such a fire hazard.”

“Like a fire is the worst thing that could be happening,” Jake said as he dug through the grocery bag to pull out a Tupperware container. “For our first course,” he said as he opened it with a flourish, “A chicken Caesar salad.”

Using a fork, as he had forgotten to bring tongs, he piled the salad onto each plate.

“I should blow those out,” Rachel said.

“Just a little longer. Please.”

“Just a little longer,” She agreed.

They held the plates in the air as they ate. Rachel took small bites. Each bite she chewed until it had just about dissolved in her mouth. For the next ten minutes they quietly ate. She still winced with every swallow, but managed a quarter of the plate.

“Didn’t they give you something for that?” Jake asked.

“I asked them to stop. I’m ready.”

Jake quietly held her hand. She had become so frail that it felt like she would break if he held too tightly.

“So what’s next?” She asked before Jake fell apart.

Jake was a nervous wreck on their first date. He spent hours trying to make sure everything was perfect. He had prepared a three course meal. The plan was a picnic in the park.

The day was supposed to be beautiful, but while it was sunny, the wind made it impossible to eat. They spent more time trying to keep the blanket on the ground than actually eating.

Jake spent most of the date apologizing, but Rachel laughed it off. Because the picnic was a bust, Jake tried to call off the date. Instead, Rachel took his hand and they walked to her place to finish the meal. If anyone asked, she would say that she was dating him for the food.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “For our main course I made bacon wrapped scallops with a side of buttery roasted broccoli.”

“No soup course?”

“I thought that you’d be sick of soup.”

“I am, but you’ve always did a soup course.” While she didn’t ask for the soup, she had been looking forward to it.

“Maybe next time.”

Rachel squeezed his hand back. “It’s alright.”

Jake scraped the leftover salad back tin the container to make space for the entree. He spent ten minutes trying to plate the scallops as artfully as possible. She quietly watched as he fussed. Once he was satisfied, he poured then both a glass of red wine. White would have gone better with the scallops, but she never liked white, even when the food was better with it. It was her day, so he got her the sweetest red wine he could find.

The food was made perfectly, but both of them were taking their time chewing. It was as if each bite brought them closer to the end.

Rachel’s eyes went wide after her second bite. She barely had time to grab her vomit bowl. The contents of dinner trickled out with a spew of red. Despite not wanting to know, Jake tried to calculate how much of that was wine.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Jake said as he pushed his remaining broccoli around his plate.

“No,” Her voice cracked from the resent strain, “I’m so happy you did this. It’s perfect.”

Rachel gagged a few more times before she could settle her stomach. “It’s even delicious coming out. You made it perfectly, but maybe it’s time for dessert.”

“Are you sure?”

Rachel didn’t answer. She waited until Jake brought out the final container from the bag.

They missed a lot for the signs that she was getting sick. Maybe they didn’t want to see them. They found the cancer on her thirtieth birthday, but by then the treatment chances were slim.

He spent the next few months looking up all he could about cancer and her odds of living. It didn’t look good. Nearly half the people who get stomach cancer die.

It wasn’t fair. She lived healthily enough, but a genetic copying error caused her cells to start over dividing and forming tumors. She wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to die of old age after a family and a happy life.

“It might still be frozen. I thought… kind of hoped that we’d take longer with supper.”

“Why would it be frozen?”

“It’s the same dark chocolate mousse cake we didn’t get to have because… I know it’s been a while, but I didn’t want it to go to waste. Maybe we could start that day over.”

Jake took a small plate and placed her slice with a small candle in the middle. He lit the candle and placed it in her hands.

“Happy birthday.” He whispered.

Rachel took a breath and with a small puff of air she blew out the candle.

“Did you wish for anything?” He asked.

“What would I wish for?”

“I was just hoping you would.”

Rachel took a bite of her cake. She closed her eyes as she savored it. Jake watched her, savoring in his own way.

Her eyes slowly opened. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Absolutely.”

“Would you mind going to the cafeteria and getting me some milk? I think I need some milk to wash this down.”

Jake set his plate on the table and stood up. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

She weakly smiled. “Thank you.”

Those were the same words he said after their wedding night. They were lying in bed, talking about the future when he said, “What are the chances that someone like you would marry someone like me?”

“You’re saying like I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“No, I mean, you’re beautiful and smart. You could have picked any person in the world, but you picked me. The chances of us meeting are so small, and the chance of us getting together.”

“Chance is for gambling. Chance is for natural disasters and diseases. This,” She held up the hand to show off her wedding ring, “Is a choice.”

He took her hand. “Thank you.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I am glad I chose you too.”

The elevator was painfully slow. There was not much of a line at the cafeteria, but the wait for the elevator was torture. There wasn’t much time left.

He cursed at the elevator for ruining things. The elevator bank was down to a single elevator. Not only was it moving at a crawl, it seemed to stop at every floor on the way down to pick him up.

The frustration was about to bring him to tears when the doors finally opened and a flood of people exited. He wanted to yell at them to get out of the way. Didn’t they know he had to get back to his dying wife?

He might have fully let himself cry if several people didn’t on with him. A few of them had floors before his. He wished there was a way to prioritize the floor.

Once he reached his level, he walked as fast as he could back to her room. Determination fueled him, but he couldn’t make it past the door.

She was so still. Her eyes were half open and her jaw relaxed to let her mouth hang open. The candles on the table had gone out.

The milk was warm by the time he placed it on the table. Tears finally came and he said the words he hoped that he said often enough, “Thank you for choosing me.”