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“Gramma!” Nora raced through the front door with her usual abandon and flung her arms around Helen’s knees.
“Hey, sweet pea, how are you?” Helen always looked forward to Wednesdays, the day she babysat her four-year-old granddaughter. Today she was more than pleased to have such a delightful distraction from the events of the day and night before.
The worrisome need for a biopsy.
The head-banging sex with Nathan.
“Can we go to the water park today?” Nora peered up, short blonde pigtails dangling, blue eyes bright with innocent manipulation. “Pretty please with sugar on top?”
Helen laughed and booped her snubbed nose. “I don’t see why not. It’s going to be another scorcher.”
“Hi, Mom.” Megan followed her daughter much more sedately. She placed Nora’s pink sequined backpack on the floor. “She’s been talking about the water park for ages, so I brought her swimsuit in case you were up for it.”
Helen stifled the pinch of resentment at the implication she was too old to take her granddaughter to the park. Megan didn’t mean it that way. She hoped. “It’s a great idea. We’ll have fun.” She turned her attention back to Nora. “I made the batter for our pancakes. Why don’t you go give it a stir while I talk to your mom for a minute?” They always had breakfast together on these days, and pancakes were Nora’s favourite.
“Yum!” Nora ran to the kitchen and seconds later Helen heard the scrape of the snooping stool as Nora positioned it to reach the counter.
“What’s going on?” Not for the first time, Helen wished Megan weren’t quite so observant. Intuitiveness was an excellent trait for Dr. Megan Willson, but could be rather irritating in a daughter whose diaper she’d changed and tears she’d dried.
“Nothing important.” Helen smiled, hiding her discomfort at her white lie. “But I won’t be able to take Nora next week.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem if I remember Nicholas’s schedule correctly.” Megan’s husband was a dentist who worked twelve-hour days in a pattern that seemed confusingly random to Helen. She thought she’d gotten away without providing further details, until Megan narrowed her eyes. “So...why can’t you take her?”
Other people might be thrilled to have a doctor in the family, especially after they’d been given bad news about their health. Helen knew she wasn’t other people. She needed to protect her secret as long as possible.
When her mother had been diagnosed, she’d expected a nineteen-year-old Helen to abandon her life, come rushing home from university. Out from under her parent’s domineering thumb for the first time, and attending school on a scholarship that couldn’t be deferred, Helen had taken a stand for her independence and refused. Frequent visits hadn’t been enough to placate her mother, and the rift had only widened through the months of her illness. Helen would never lay such a guilt trip on Megan.
If the biopsy were clear, there’d be no need to tell her anything. If it weren’t—well, she’d deal with it then. Megan was aware of the family history of breast cancer, and this would affect her personally. Better to let sleeping dogs lie until absolutely necessary.
“They need me at Golden Dragon,” Helen said. “The receptionist that does Monday to Wednesday is away.” Helen’s regular shifts at the tattoo parlor were Thursday and Friday. She didn’t like lying to Megan, but she’d had to prepare an excuse, and this had seemed the simplest.
“You’ve never had to cover before.” Megan’s scrutiny made her look every inch Dr. Willson.
Helen felt exposed, as if the tumour were a glowing beacon flashing its cruel message for all to see. “Of course I have. It just hasn’t interfered with looking after Nora.” Helen tried to sound nonchalant, but was sure she failed miserably.
“So that means you can’t take her at all, then? You’re working all five days?”
Helen hesitated. She hadn’t thought past the day of the biopsy, and Megan’s question reminded her she’d have to arrange to take Thursday and Friday off, as per Dr. Chesley’s instructions for recuperation after the surgery. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Nora will be disappointed.”
“I’ll make it up to her.”
Megan’s piercing stare relaxed and she lifted a corner of her mouth in a small smile. “Ice cream works.”
Helen grinned back, relieved Megan appeared to have accepted her explanation. “Like mother, like daughter.”
“I should get to the office.” Megan hesitated in the doorway, the picture of professionalism in a sleeveless white tank and a deep pink pencil skirt with coordinating pumps. Her features were a more delicate version of Aaron’s, and she had his dark hair and brown eyes. Helen couldn’t help a rush of pride for her successful, intelligent, beautiful daughter.
“Mom?” Megan tilted her head thoughtfully. “You’d tell me if there was something I needed to know, right?”
“Of course.” That definitely wasn’t a lie. There was nothing to tell Megan yet. But when—if—there was, Helen would be sure to couch the news as positively as possible, to avoid alarming Megan or giving her the impression Helen needed help. Her daughter had her own life to live, and Helen refused to lay any extra burdens on her. She would handle this on her own, as she always had.
“Okay.” Megan tapped her short nails on the door frame in a restless tattoo. “Love you.”
They weren’t the type of family that said such things out loud that often. The tears that seemed to come so easily since yesterday welled again, and she willed them away. “Love you, too.”
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A RAPID KNOCKING DRAGGED Nathan’s attention from the spreadsheet on the computer monitor in front of him. Head still swirling with figures, he blinked at the woman standing in his office doorway. “Hey.”
“Got a minute?” Melanie Devane was the Regional Sales Manager for Nechako Industrial Supply, where Nathan had worked most of his adult life. She was also his direct supervisor.
“Of course. What can I do for you?” He leaned back in his seat and waved her in.
She dropped into one of the visitor chairs and crossed her legs. “It’s more what I can do for you.” Her eyes gleamed with bright intelligence. As a woman in what was predominately a man’s world—the company provided tools and equipment for the forestry and mining sectors—she was fiercely determined and took no shit from anyone.
“I know you wanted my job,” she said. “I mean, before I got it. When it was available five years ago.”
“Yes, I did.” It wasn’t a secret, but he was a little blindsided by Melanie’s blunt reference. Not that she was ever anything but blunt. Her forthrightness was one of the many things he liked and respected about her, and all those things together had tempered his severe disappointment at not being awarded the position.
Nathan had joined Nechako Industrial Supply more than twenty-five years ago, starting as lowly counter staff before rising rapidly to local sales. He’d built up his client list with slow and steady improvements, and becoming regional manager, which involved overseeing all account executives in northern British Columbia, was the next logical step in his career. He had wanted the promotion, and rather badly.
But life was all about timing. When the position had become available, Wanda had been fighting cancer for a couple of years, and they’d just learned it had spread to her lungs. While he could have sought forgetfulness in work, he had barely enough energy to keep up with his familiar, day-to-day duties, let alone take on a whole new level of responsibility. The opportunity passed and he’d hidden the burning regret and resentment as best he could until Wanda’s death a few months later.
Melanie tilted her head, regarding him intently, reminding him of a sparrow. Short and thin, with brown hair sprinkled with grey, the bird-like impression was enhanced by the drab colours she preferred to wear. “Your boys live on Vancouver Island, right?”
Even further at sea with this tangential comment, Nathan could only nod. “Yes. Lorne’s a teacher in Nanaimo, Greg runs a greenhouse mid-Island, and Lyle is in Tofino. He’s a surf instructor.” That sounded better than beach bum. It wasn’t the career he’d dreamed of for his youngest son, but Lyle had time to sort out his life. He didn’t think Melanie had dropped in to talk about his parental worries, though. “What has that to do with the price of peanuts?”
Melanie grinned. “I intend to keep my job for a while longer yet. But the Regional Manager for Vancouver Island has been posted.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And you thought of me?”
“Not that I want to lose you, but it seems a great fit. You’d be near your boys and get the promotion you deserve. Because you do deserve it, Nathan.” Melanie expression was serious. “You’re one of the best salespeople we’ve ever had, and you’re a great mentor. I think you’d make an excellent manager.”
His heart thudded heavily. It did sound like a perfect match, at least on paper.
But what about Helen?
He’d thought of her off and on throughout the day—her scent, the sounds she made when he caressed her, the softness of her skin.
He wished he knew what had prompted her impulsive invitation. Because it had been impulsive, as his acceptance had been. If they’d been rational adults, they would have talked about it first, discussed what it might mean—or not mean—to each of them. Not blazed their way into bed like two virgin teenagers.
On occasion over the years he had dreamed of what might happen if he had the chance to explore his desire for her, but he had never thought past the actual deed. After all, it had just been a fantasy. But now the fantasy had come true, and he wanted to repeat it.
Not that Helen had given any indication she wanted the same, as evidenced by the way she’d scrambled out of bed. If anything, she’d acted as if she regretted their actions.
And now Melanie was dangling his ultimate career goal in front of him. He’d already lost one promotion because of Wanda. Would pursuing something with Helen put it all at risk again?
Melanie was waiting patiently for his reply, and he hurried to fill the silence. “Thanks for saying so. It means a lot. Do you really think I should apply?” He swivelled his chair. “I’m fifty-five years old. They probably want someone younger.”
Melanie, only a year older than him, scoffed. “You’re just a baby.” Planting her feet on the floor, she speared him with a glare. “Wait a minute. You’re not thinking of retiring are you?” She spit out the word like it had a bad taste.
“No. Not for a while yet. But I bet you’re not the only one wondering the same thing. Why would they invest in me if they think I’ll be gone soon?”
She relaxed, pursing her lips dismissively. “Tell them the truth—that you plan on sticking around. And I know something else that will prove you’re serious.”
He knew instantly what she meant. “The Mount Morgan account?”
She nodded. “The Mount Morgan account. If you can wrap that up before your interview, you’re practically a shoo-in. NIS has been trying to land that contract for years. The account exec who does will be the golden child.”
Mount Morgan Mining was an international firm that operated a huge copper and gold mine a few hours north of Prince George. It had been on another salesperson’s list for years, but Melanie had recently re-evaluated all accounts and it had landed on Nathan’s plate. He’d been putting out cautious feelers, but his thoughtful, deliberate approach would have to slip into high gear if he wanted to lock it down anytime soon. “When does the posting for the promotion close?”
“The end of the month. Interviews will be scheduled immediately after. So you have about two weeks.” She slapped her hands on her knees and stood up. “If anyone can close Mount Morgan, Nathan, it’s you.”
A flare of excitement kindled. He loved his job, and while he was certainly making plans for retirement, he couldn’t see himself twiddling his thumbs around the house for a decade yet. He still had time to make his mark. He’d always thought it would be here in his hometown, but maybe that had been short-sighted.
Yet he couldn’t shake his unease whenever he thought of Helen.