First Impressions

I sunk myself down into the chair and sighed with relief. After being on my feet all morning, rushing around in the coffee shop, I was finally able to take a break. It felt good to just wind down.
I gazed outside, watching the locals go about their business out on the High Street. It was definitely summer; everyone was out enjoying the warm weather. They would pass through the coffee shop, ordering their drinks to go. It kept business healthy. For a small shop, we were doing rather well, but then again it had been doing well since I could remember.
My parents opened The Mill Café before I was born. It was a small business, set in the middle of Cranbrook's High Street. It had been their dream to open up a place that resembled where they'd first met, and the café did just that. Since its opening, the shop had been a number one hotspot for the locals.
I stretched out my arms and yawned. My body felt completely drained. It was going to be another on of those days.
It wasn't unusual for me to feel like this. In fact over the last year or so it had become a recurring problem for me. It had been getting a lot worse lately though. I knew it was my own fault, but I was willing to suffer with the pain just to have control of my life again.
I glanced across the room, my eyes drifting over the regulars until they landed on my father. He stared at me with his tired, worrying eyes with one question: Was I okay? I knew that my condition wasn't easy on him, but I admired him for being so strong. If it were me in his place, I wasn't sure I could go through something so heart breaking.
I smiled at him reassuringly to put his mind at ease. He wasn't convinced but at least it kept him off my case for a little while longer.
Once my father dealt with the last customer, he headed over to me. Women of all ages turned their heads as he passed. It appeared that they thought there was something slightly attractive about him. For the life of me, I couldn't understand it. He was my dad, no one special. His blue eyes were tired from the thirty odd years he had spent working, his hair was going grey, and he was starting to look his age. The only thing he had in his favour was that he didn't have many wrinkles, unlike other men his age.
Apparently, back in the day, my father was a right goer. Good looks, the charm, and all. That was why my mother had fallen so hard for him. Personally, I couldn't see it. He was only my father.
“Dad, I'm fine,” I moaned. I knew exactly what he was going to say before he got the chance to open his mouth.
“You look like hell, Liz,” he sighed.
Charming! “I had a bad night, that's all,” I shrugged.
“Go home.”
I threw my head back, flinging my flaming, auburn curls along with it. “Oh, Dad...” I whined.
He did this to me all the time. It must wear him out. Being so protective of me must have been a tiring, daily chore for him, but he never showed it.
“Just go. I'm sure I'll be fine on my own. Now that the rush is over, it should be fairly quiet for the rest of the day.”
I rolled my eyes, but accepted his offer. I was completely beat and it would give me a chance to go through my notes and start on my novel.
I had been writing ever since I could remember. My mother had inspired me to write. She used to be a journalist, and would read her work to me before it would get published. Her pieces were so meaningful and heartfelt, because she actually cared about the things she was writing about. The world could do with more sensitive and kind people like her, but sadly she was cruelly taken away from us five years ago when I was only 15.
My mother was on her way home after working late that night. I remember it so vividly, because I stayed up late that night to speak to her. I was going through my moody teenager stage, and we had a massive argument that morning. I wanted to apologise for my behaviour.
I waited up until way past midnight, but she still hadn't returned home. The hours flew by rapidly. I remember falling asleep on the sofa and being rudely awakened by a banging on the front door and four o'clock in the morning. I thought my mum might have forgotten her keys, but it wasn't her. Instead, two police officers greeted me at the door.
My younger sister Jane and I sat on the stairs as my father spoke to the two officers. I had watched through the crack in the door as he broke down and buried his head in his hands. His reaction told me all that I needed to know.
My mother had apparently fallen asleep at the wheel after a late night and had a head on collision with a lorry travelling on the opposite side of the road. She was announced dead at the scene. There was nothing mysterious about her death, just an unfortunate accident.
Everyone paid their deepest sympathies, and the newspaper dedicated a special release on her, including every article she had written for the paper. It was a sad week, but her memory lived on through all the happy thoughts people had of her.
Shortly after her death, my father caught me in her study going through some of her articles that never made it to print. That evening, after dinner, he had given me a white box, a present. He told me that it was meant for my sixteenth birthday, but that I had deserved it. The key to my mother's study was in the box along with a picture of her and I when I was only a baby. The study was now mine and still looked the same to this day. I didn't have the heart to change a thing about it. Part of her was still in there, and that was the way I wanted to keep it. I had a wall full of every article she had ever written. She deserved to be remembered for what she was good at.
It took me a while after her death to start writing again, but suddenly ideas started coming to me. I began to jot things down wherever I could and finally built a story out of the notes I had.
I was working on a romance novel. Being a hopeless romantic myself I thought it was a good idea. It was hard because I had never experienced love in a perfect way. How did the like of Jane Austen and the Bronte sister's manage it? I was giving it my best shot, and that was all I could do.
I didn't have the same confidence and charisma as my mum had. None of my work saw the light of day; it was for my eyes only. I wasn't ready for anyone to criticise my work, because I didn't think it was good enough. One day, however, I'll eventually show someone my material. For now it was best kept locked away.
I fetched my bag and coat from the back room. A sudden feeling of dizziness overcame me. Not again. I gripped the nearest thing to me, which turned out to be the table, to hold me up and too a few slow, deep breaths as I gained my composure. The feeling had passed as soon as it had come.
I was used to having small attacks like these where I would come over feeling dizzy or weak. At first they scared me but they had become such a regular occurrence that I just shrugged it off. It was the consequences of the decisions I had made to get my life back. Did I regret making them? Not for one minute.
The door burst open and my best friend Jennifer scurried into the room. She stopped in front of me and pushed her silky caramel hair out of her face. My smile soon faded as I realised that she wasn't happy to see me, she was furious.
“You've stopped having treatment!” She hissed.
Here we go.
I pulled her away from the door and closed it quietly. I should have known it wouldn't be long until someone found out but I would rather Jennifer knew than anyone else at the moment. I knew how to handle her.
“Did you go through my files?” I questioned her, slightly furious at the thought.
“Do you think I wanna lose my job?”
She made a good point. She had literally just passed her course and was now a trainee nurse at Benendan Hospital.
“How did you find out?” I asked.
“How can you be so calm about this?” She shook her head.
“Jenny, how did you find out?” I asked her again.
“Henry told me.”
Damn. “Isn't there supposed to be some kind of patient confidentiality?”
“No Elizabeth there isn't, especially when your health is involved. You've missed four appointments with Henry, what are you playing at?”
I ignored her and stared into thin air. I couldn't believe that Henry would betray me like that. My health was no one else’s concern other than my own.
“Do you wanna die?” She choked.
My eyes shot to her face. Her eyes were flooding with tears by now, it choked me up to see her so sad. I dropped my bag to the floor and wrapped my arms around her.
She should have known the answer to that question, god knows she had asked it so many times. The truth was dying sounded like a good idea to me, at least it would stop the pain I suffered with from my Lymphoma. I had been diagnosed with the illness a year or so ago and since then everything had changed around me. I was constantly being monitored by everyone. If I so much as sighed someone would be on my case asking if I was OK. At first I admired them for their kindness but it soon got too much for me. I still wanted a normal life, cancer or not.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I had made the decision to stop all treatment. It wasn't working for me anyway. Everyone believed that it was making me better but it was by far the worse thing I was doing. The last appointment I attended left me bed ridden for almost a week. So I made the choice by myself to give it up and I was sticking to it.
“Jen, you know more than anyone what this is doing to me. It's painful enough without having the treatment. And whether you want to admit it or not the therapy was only making me worse,” I explained.
“But you were getting better,” she sobbed.
“Do you honestly believe that?”
She nodded but I saw the doubt in her eyes. She had seen how ill I had become after the chemotherapy but still insisted that it was going to work. I shook my head at her and cupped her chin in my hand.
“I feel more alive now than I ever did during my therapy,” I said. “Haven't you noticed.
“I'm scared of losing you, you're my best friend Liz and the thought of not having you around any more rips me apart,” she admitted.
That felt like salt in an open wound.
“Hey I'm a tough cookie. You know as well as I do that even surviving this long is a miracle. Lets just wait and see what's around the corner,” I spoke softly.
She managed to force a smile.
I wasn't lying when I said that she probably had one of the most beautiful smiles you could see on a woman. Some would have been jealous of how naturally beautiful she was but not me. I had so much admiration for her. She never used her beauty to her advantage, if she wanted someone then it was for the person she saw inside and not the good looks on the outside. She even had a tendency to bring the best out in people. I could only wish to have that kind of effect on someone.
“You can't let anyone else know about this,” I told her as we headed out of the shop. The last thing I wanted was everyone else having a pop at me.
“I won't,” she promised.
She knew what this meant to me. I just hoped that everyone else would be so understanding once they found out. It was going to hit people hard but this was my life and I was taking back all the control. None of them really knew what it was like for me and it was pointless trying to explain it. They just wanted to do everything in their power to keep me alive. The only thing that could possibly keep me alive was a miracle and I didn't believe in them, not since my mum's death.
Jennifer and I stepped out into the road as we did almost everyday. A car braked abruptly, screeching as it came to a halt. Jennifer pulled me back out of the road shaking, but things like this didn't frighten me at all. Sometimes I wondered if it would be a less painful way to go.
A bloke jumped out of the black Audi S5 Coupé and headed for us. He didn't look so happy, bearing in mind that it was his fault. He sure wasn't from around here. It was obvious by the make of the car and the reckless way he had been driving the narrow streets. The way he was dressed was a little out of the ordinary too. No one wore designer clothes like that around here, hell no one looked as smart as that, especially while they were rocking the casual look.
“Are you crazy?” He yelled.
I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“Do you usually step out in front of cars like that?”
“You were the one that came out of nowhere,” I argued.
He glared at me and although his green eyes were stone cold, they were deeply captivating. For a moment I was utterly speechless, I had to think about what to say next.
“We didn't see you,” Jennifer said calmly. “We're sorry.”
“How about opening your eyes next time,” he said dryly. Ignoring Jennifer's apology.
How rude.
“How about sticking to the speed limit next time,” I snapped.
“How about you watch where you're going,” he snapped back at me.
From the corner of my eye I saw a girl approach us. My eyes shifted from the stranger to the blonde now standing beside him. I was slightly shocked when I recognised who it was.
“Poppy, what are you doing here?” Jennifer asked.
I rolled my eyes. Wasn't it obvious?
Poppy blushed and dropped her head a little.
She was always such a sweet girl, a year younger than me Sure she was a bit of a flirt when it came to the lads but her heart was always in the right place. She had been through her fair share of bad boys but none like the man standing beside her at the moment. She had really picked a wrong one this time around. I just hoped that she would get rid as soon as possible.
“Daniel just leave it, it wasn't their fault,” she said.
I turned my attention back to him. So the arse has a name.
“If I were you I'd do as she says,” I told him.
He looked me up and down, for a minute I felt a little insecure. No one had ever looked at me like that before. I never caught anyone's attention, especially not a bloke as attractive as him.
“What makes you think I'm that sort that takes orders?”
“No of course not, you're probably the sort that gives them,” I smiled sarcastically.
“Got that right,” he smirked.
“Disappear,” I spat at him.
“You don't get rid of me that easy sweetheart,” he winked.
My eyes narrowed. I barely knew him but my mind was already made up. I really didn't like him.
“We're sorry Lizzy,” Poppy said.
“Speak for yourself,” Daniel grunted.
“Ass hole,” I mumbled.
His eyes glared at me again. This time I mocked his stare.
Poppy managed to drag him away from us. I watched after them in disbelief. Never in my life had I encountered someone so arrogant and despicable as Daniel, he was the worst kind of person I had met.
As he drove past us, his eyes lingered on me until he was out of sight. I sighed with relief knowing that he was gone. If I bumped into him again it would be too soon.
“It would've been easier to apologise,” Jennifer sighed.
“No way, he was far too rude.”
“He may not have been if you had just said sorry.”
I shook my head. “Never mind about him. Listen how about we go out some time?” I asked.
She raised an eyebrow and didn't seem so keen on the idea. If I had asked for a night out over a year ago she would have been well up for it, but since everything had changed the boring side of life seemed to be my only excitement.
“Just for a few drinks down the serene,” I convinced her.
“I dunno,” she said wearily.
“Please it's been ages since we last had a good night out.”
She looked at me carefully for a long moment, but eventually sighed and gave in.
“OK, but not tonight, I'm doing a late shift.”
“Sure whenever suits you,” I smiled.
It made me happier than ever. After a year I had spent locked away from the real world in my room, and now that I was off of my medication I was able to go out and enjoy myself. I don't think I had been this happy since before my diagnosis. Even Jennifer had a smile on her face. I was hoping to make her realise that what I was doing was for the best. I could see that some part of her believed it but another part of her wanted to scream at me and beg me to start chemotherapy again.
I was determined to start living my life the way I wanted and not how everyone else wants me to. I didn't want to feel like I was dying, I wanted to feel alive.