Between Sisters

“No. You?”

“No. ” Meg slipped an arm around her, held her tightly.

Claire tensed, waiting for the pep talk, but her sister said nothing.

Behind them, the glass door opened. “Morning, ladies. ” Bobby came up behind Claire, slid his arms around her, and kissed the back of her neck.

They stood there a minute longer, no one speaking, then they turned together and left the condo.

In no time, they were at Swedish Hospital. As they entered the Nuclear Medicine waiting room, Claire noticed the other patients who wore hats and scarves. When their gazes met, a sad understanding passed between them. They were members of a club you didn’t want to join. Claire wished now that she hadn’t bothered with the scarf. Baldness had a boldness to it that she wanted to embrace.

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There was no waiting today, not on this day that would answer all the questions. She checked in and went right to the MRI. Within moments, she was pumped full of dye and stuck in the loud machine.

When she was finished, she returned to the waiting room and sat between Meghann and Bobby, who both reached out for her. She held their hands.

Finally, they called her name.

Claire rose.

Bobby steadied her. “I’m right here, babe. ”

The three of them began the long hallway-to-hallway walk, ending finally in Dr. Sussman’s office. The plaque on the door read: Chief of Neurology. Dr. McGrail, the chief of radiology, was also there.

“Hello, Claire. Meghann,” Dr. Sussman said. “Bobby. ”

“Well?” Meghann demanded.

“The tumor responded to radiation. It’s about twelve percent smaller,” Dr. McGrail reported.

“That’s great,” Meg said.

The doctors exchanged a look. Then Dr. Sussman went to the viewbox, switched it on, and there they were, the gray-and-white pictures of Claire’s brain. And there was the stain. He finally turned to Claire. “The decrease has bought you some time. Unfortunately, the tumor is still inoperable. I’m sorry. ”

Sorry.

Claire sat down in the leather chair. She didn’t think her legs would hold her up.

“But it worked,” Meg said. “It worked, right? Maybe a little more radiation. Or a round of chemo. I read that some are crossing the blood-brain barrier now—”

“Enough,” Claire said. She’d meant to say it softly, but her voice was loud. She looked at the neurologist. “How long do I have?”

Dr. Sussman’s voice was gentle. “The survival rates aren’t good, I’m afraid, for a tumor of this size and placement. Some patients live as long as a year. Perhaps a bit longer. ”

“And the rest?”

“Six to nine months. ”

Claire stared down at her brand-new wedding ring, the one Grandma Myrtle had worn for six decades.

Meghann went to Claire then, dropped to her knees in front of her. “We won’t believe it. The files—”

“Don’t,” she said softly, shaking her head, thinking about Ali. She saw her baby’s eyes, the sunburst smile that was missing the front teeth, heard her say, You can sleep with my wubbie, Mommy, and it ruined her. Tears ran down her cheeks. She felt Bobby beside her, felt the way his fingers were digging into her hard, and she knew he was crying, too. She wiped her eyes, looked up at the doctor. “What’s next?”

Meghann jerked to her feet and began pacing the room, studying the pictures and diplomas on the walls. Claire knew her sister was scared and, thus, angry.

Dr. Sussman pulled a chair around and sat down opposite Claire. “We have some options. None too good, I’m afraid, but—”