Between Sisters

“You act like no one ever visits you. ”

Meghann sidled past Claire and walked to the door. By the time she got there, the bell had rung another eight times. “Damn good doorman,” she muttered, opening the door.

Gina, Charlotte, and Karen stood clustered together.

“Where’s our girl?” Karen cried out.

Claire appeared and the screaming began. Karen and Charlotte surged forward, mumbling hello to Meghann, then enfolding Claire in their arms.

“Sam called us,” Gina said when she and Meghann were alone in the hallway. “How is she?”

“Okay, I guess. The radiation went well, I think. She goes every day for four weeks. ” At Gina’s frightened look, Meghann added, “She didn’t want to worry you guys. ”

“Yeah, right. She can’t be alone for a thing like this. ”

“I’m here,” Meghann answered, stung.

Gina squeezed her arm. “She’ll need all of us. ”

Meghann nodded. Then she and Gina looked at each other.

“You call me. Whenever,” Gina said quietly.

“Thanks. ”

After that, Gina eased past Meg and went into the living room, saying loudly. “Okay, we’ve got spas-in-a-bucket, gooey popcorn balls, hilarious movies, and, of course, games. What should we do first?”

Meghann watched the four best friends come together; they were all talking at once. She didn’t move toward them, and they didn’t call out to her.

Finally, she went back to her office and shut the door. As she sat there, reading the latest literature on chemotherapy and the blood-brain barrier, she heard the high, clear sound of her sister’s laughter.

She picked up the phone and called Elizabeth.

“Hey,” Meg said softly when her friend answered.

“What is it?” Elizabeth asked. “You’re too quiet. ”

“Claire,” was all she could say before the tears came.

Joe sat sprawled across the sofa, drinking a beer. His third. Mostly, he was trying not to think.

The ephemeral chance for redemption—the one that only last week had glittered in front of him like a desert oasis beside a long, hot highway—had vanished. He should have known it was a mirage.

There would be no starting over. He didn’t have the guts for it. He’d thought, hoped, that with Meg he’d be stronger.

“Meg,” he said her name softly, closed his eyes. He said a prayer for her and her sister. It was all he could really do now.

Meg.

She wouldn’t clear out of his mind. He kept thinking of her, remembering, wanting. It was what had sent him reaching for the bottles of beer.

It wasn’t that he missed her, precisely. Hell, he didn’t even know her last name. Didn’t know where she lived or what she did in her spare time.

What he grieved for was the idea of her. For those few moments—unexpected and sweet—he’d dared to step onto old roads. He’d let himself want someone, let himself believe in a new future.

He took a long drink. It didn’t help.

In the kitchen, the phone rang. He got slowly to his feet and started that way. It was probably Gina, calling to make sure he was okay. He had no idea what he’d tell her.