Claire whispered, “Oh, man . . . ”
“You can do it,” Meg said. “Radiation can save you. Just like we talked about. I’ll help you. ”
Claire’s smile was wobbly. “I need to do this alone. ”
Meg understood. This was Claire’s family, not hers. “Okay. ”
Claire got out of the car and walked haltingly up the path. Meg fell in step beside her, offering a solid arm for support.
At the front door, Claire paused, drew in a deep breath. “I can do this. Mommy’s sick. ”
“And the doctors are going to make her better. ”
She looked helplessly at Meghann. “How do I promise that? What if—”
“We talked about this, Claire. You promise it. We’ll worry about what if later. ”
Claire nodded. “You’re right. ” Forcing a smile, she opened the door.
Sam sat on the sofa, wearing a pair of faded overalls and a smile. “Hey, you two, you’re late. How was the spa week?” Halfway through the sentence, his smile faded. He looked to Claire, then to Meghann. Slowly, he got to his feet. “What’s going on?”
Alison was on the floor, playing with a Fisher-Price barnyard set. “Mommy!” she said, scrambling to her feet and running for them.
Claire dropped to her knees and scooped Alison into her arms.
Meghann saw the way her sister was trembling, and she longed to reach out to her, to hold her as she had when they were kids. She felt a fresh surge of rage. How could this happen to Claire? How could her sister possibly look into her daughter’s eyes and say I’m sick without breaking like finely spun sugar?
“Mommy,” Alison said at last, “you’re squishing me. ” She wiggled out of her mother’s arms. “Did you bring me home a present? Can we all go to Hawaii for Christmas? Grandpa says—”
Claire stood up. She glanced nervously back at Meghann. “Pick me up at six, okay?” Then, smiling, Claire faced her father and daughter. “I need to talk to you two. ”
Meghann had never seen such bravery.
I need to do this alone.
She backed out of the door, ran for the safety of her car, and drove away.
She didn’t even know where she was going until she was there.
The cabin looked dark, unoccupied.
She parked out front and killed the engine. Leaving her purse in the car, she headed across the street and walked up to the front door.
She knocked.
He opened the door. “You have got to be kidding me. ”
That was when she remembered their date. Last Friday. She was supposed to bring the wine and dessert. It felt like decades ago. She looked past him, saw a dying bouquet of flowers on the coffee table, and hoped he hadn’t bought them for their date. But of course he had. How long had he waited, she wondered, before he ate his dinner alone? “I’m sorry. I forgot. ”
“Give me one good reason not to slam the door in your face. ”
She looked up at him, feeling so fragile she could barely breathe. “My sister has a brain tumor. ”
His expression changed slowly. A look came into his eyes, a kind of harrowing understanding that made her wonder at the dark roads that had traversed his life. “Oh, Jesus. ”
He opened his arms and she walked into his embrace. For the first time, she let herself really cry.
Joe stood on the porch, staring out at the falling night. At the park across the street, a baseball game was being played. An occasional roar of the crowd erupted through the silence. Otherwise, there was only the sound of a cool breeze rustling the honeysuckle leaves.