| |
The evening after the biopsy, Helen’s breast was swollen and bruised, yet if she were careful and moved deliberately, she could do everything she needed to without real pain. Not that she needed to do much at all, as Nathan barely left her side. That hadn’t been the plan—she’d intended he simply drive her home and then get back to work—but he’d surprised and touched her by announcing he’d made other arrangements and wasn’t going anywhere.
The sedative had left her feeling slightly drunk and for the first few hours all she did was lay on the couch, watch the Food Network and drift. Nathan was quietly attentive, refreshing the ice packs she used to minimize the swelling at the surgical site and brewing multiple cups of tea, which she accepted, and offering crackers and fruit, which she declined. When she did grow hungry, he made her chicken soup as if she were suffering from a fever, and whether it was his ministrations or simply the passage of time, by ten o’clock she was feeling back to normal. So normal she became vaguely irritated at his hovering and shooed him home.
“Thanks for everything,” she said, every syllable sincere. “I’ll be fine on my own for the night.” Which was also the truth. She needed to be alone, needed to stop putting on a brave face for at least a few hours.
“Of course you will.” He gathered the dishes that cluttered the coffee table and brought them to the kitchen, then returned to loom over her with a worried expression. “Are you sure? I can stay if you want.”
She raised herself to her feet, moving gingerly, testing herself. “I’m sure. Besides, you need to get some rest before your big presentation tomorrow. You won’t do that if you’re here, pandering to my every wish.”
He smiled at her hyperbole and then moved toward the front door. Helen stepped down the short flight of stairs gingerly, relieved her limbs once again felt connected to her body. “I appreciate everything you’ve done today. I know it was bad timing for you, with Mount Morgan and everything.”
“I would never not make time for you, Helen.” His hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. “About tomorrow. I don’t feel right leaving you on your own all day.”
“Are you offering to cancel your meeting?” She said it jokingly, so was surprised by the hurt that stabbed her chest when his eyes widened to show the whites around his irises. Irritation at her weakness caused her to speak more sharply than maybe she should have. “I didn’t mean it, Nathan. Don’t look so horrified.”
His expression flattened too late to hide his true reaction. “I would if I could but—”
“I said I didn’t mean it. I’ll be fine on my own.” This was why she didn’t ask for help. It made people feel pressured and guilty.
“Maybe Megan could—”
“No.” She cut him off a second time. “No. Megan couldn’t, because Megan doesn’t know about this. She can’t know about this.” Helen gripped his wrist and shook it for emphasis. “When I tell her or anyone else is my call, my decision, not yours. You promised you wouldn’t say anything about the biopsy.”
“I did, but I don’t feel right—”
She interrupted him a third time, fighting off full-scale panic. “No one can know, Nathan. I mean it. Promise me again.”
The depth of her fear finally got through to him. His look of exasperation faded. “I won’t tell anyone about the biopsy, or the reason for it. I promise.”
She searched his face and saw nothing but sincerity and concern. Her death grip on his arm eased. “Please, don’t make me regret telling you.”
“I won’t.” His hand cupped her cheek and he kissed her gently on the forehead as if to seal his vow.
A flutter of emotion wriggled in her belly and for a second she sagged against him. “Thank you. Goodnight, Nathan.”
“Goodnight, Helen.” He stepped through the door and she closed it behind him. Through the frosted glass window, she could see the gleam of the outdoor light glowing down on his vague form, and then he was gone.
Soon, he’d be gone for good. It was time to start getting used to the idea.
She dragged herself up the stairs and down the hall. Without bothering to brush her teeth, she curled up in bed and let the dregs of the drugs lull her into a restless sleep.
––––––––
WHEN NATHAN STRODE into the Mount Morgan Mining boardroom Thursday morning, he was surprised to see Stanley Allbright and Oscar Thames seated with the Specialist in Vendor Management and other team members he’d met the week before.
After the obligatory round of handshakes, he nodded at the two men. “Stanley. Oscar. I didn’t expect to see you here today.” He smiled to take any perception of criticism from the words. Advanced notice of their presence wouldn’t have changed his presentation, though it did make his adrenaline pump faster now.
“We always intended to spend a week in Prince George.” Oscar spoke as if Nathan should have known that fact, his expression as disapproving as it had been at the golf tournament.
“I assume you don’t mind.” Stanley’s tone, while friendly, brooked no disagreement.
“Of course not. I’m flattered you decided to attend. I am sure you’re very busy.” He slid his laptop out of its case and hooked it up to the monitor attached to a wheeled stand at the end of the table. “Shall we begin?”
Nathan had thought the time he’d spent with the Mount Morgan executives on Sunday had been intense. By the time the meeting was over, he realized he’d only seen them in their laidback, casual roles. Stanley and Oscar zeroed in on every potential issue, every possible crack in the contract, and he’d been kept hopping to answer their insightful questions. He was glad he’d put so much effort into his proposal because their analysis left nothing unturned.
Finally they’d wrung every last drop they could out of the discussion and the meeting began to break up. The Specialist of Vendor Management gave Nathan a sympathetic nod, as if she knew how demanding the last two hours had been, and he returned it with a grin from which he tried to hide his elation. His blood was racing with excitement. He’d done well, he knew it. His instincts were telling him the deal was as good as signed.
Oscar escorted Nathan to the front door. While his expression was still severe, the courteous gesture sent Nathan’s hopes soaring even higher. “Nice presentation.” Oscar held out his hand and Nathan shook it. “We’ll be in touch within the week.”
The inside of Nathan’s vehicle was hot and stifling. He turned the air conditioning to its max and let the cool air wash over him.
His longed-for promotion was in his grasp. He couldn’t wait to tell Helen. She’d be thrilled for him. He pictured her wide grin, her green eyes alight with joy at his success. The rush of warmth was immediately followed by a chill that rivalled the icy air blasting from the vents.
Achieving his dream meant leaving Prince George and all he’d built there. Leaving Helen.
He hadn’t allowed himself to think of her until now. Of course, he had, because such a goal was impossible. But he had managed to keep her at the back of his mind.
He’d found a special sort of comfort in caring for her yesterday. While he’d had to fit in working on the final pieces of his proposal between offering her food and drink and pain relievers, he’d felt balanced, as if both parts of his life complemented, not diminished, the other. And when she’d sent him on his way, he hadn’t wanted to go, even though he knew she was right. He couldn’t encourage her to lean on him, not when he wouldn’t be around for long.
As he put the car in gear and headed back to his office to tell Melanie the hopeful news, he pondered what he should do about Helen. If he knew she had people to rely on once he was gone, maybe his nagging sense of guilt would ease.
He'd promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about the biopsy. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t call in a few favours, did it?
––––––––
WITHOUT WORK TO DISTRACT her during the two days after her surgery, Helen grew fractious and cranky. On Friday evening, she was sulking on the back deck when Nathan carried a flat box down the path between their houses and up the stairs.
“How are you feeling?” He placed the container on the low table in front of her. The savoury richness of cheese and pepperoni and tomato sauce wafted toward her and she scowled.
“Stop asking me. I’m fine. Bored out of my mind, but fine.” It wasn’t fair to take out her frustrations on him, but it was his own fault for being handy. He’d brought her dinner the night before, too, but the novelty of being taken care of had worn paper thin. Pushing aside her unreasonable grumpiness, she said, “How was work? Any news from Mount Morgan?”
Nathan had been uncharacteristically quiet about yesterday’s meeting. He’d told her it had gone well, but given no specifics, as if he didn’t want to jinx it.
Which meant he believed he had an excellent chance at closing the deal.
Which gave her the selfish urge to yell shutout in a superstitious attempt to derail his dream.
Which made her a terrible friend.
“Not yet, but I wasn’t expecting anything today.” He gestured with his thumb toward the house. “I’ll get the plates.”
He had no way of knowing about her inner turmoil—which illogically made her angrier yet. “No. I will,” she snapped. It was time he stopped treating her as if she were helpless. She shifted to stand and winced when she used her right arm for leverage.
Nathan was at her side instantly, his hand on her elbow. “Are you okay?”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m fine?” She shrugged off his light grip. The twinges were nothing she couldn’t handle, would be little more than a nuisance if they didn’t constantly remind her she was waiting for results that would determine her future. Or lack of it.
He studied her with narrowed eyes and then dropped onto a seat, stretching his legs out. “I’ll wait here, then.”
It was easy enough to dig out the napkins and silverware, and if she had to take the plates down from an upper cupboard with her left hand that was no big deal. She placed everything neatly on a large bamboo serving tray, added two wine glasses and an unopened bottle of pinot grigio, and gripped the handles.
The ache in her right breast intensified with the strain but she gritted her teeth and headed outside.
Nathan shot to his feet. “Damn it, Helen! You’re not supposed to carry anything more than five pounds.”
“And I’m not.” She had no idea how much it all weighed, of course, but only the wine bottle had any heft to it. He snatched it away and she felt immediate relief which she refused to show. Bending over to place the tray on the table beside the pizza box had the breath hissing from her tightly clenched jaw and she couldn’t hold back a sigh once it was safely lowered.
“I knew you were stubborn,” Nathan said, “but I had no idea how stubborn.”
“I am not an invalid. I had minor surgery that is already healing. If you’re going to act like this you can take your pizza and go home.” She seated herself and surreptitiously cradled her right elbow in her left hand. “I won’t get the results back for more than a week. I have to keep busy or I’ll go crazy.”
Dr. Chesley had warned her the delay might be longer than usual as the surgery had been done before a long weekend. The first Monday in August was a statutory holiday in British Columbia, and often the hottest weekend of the year, even when they weren’t in the middle of a heat wave. Normally she would spend it with Megan, her dentist husband Nicholas, and Nora, but she’d begged off the usual family events not sure she’d be up to taking part and unwilling to risk extended time under Megan’s eagle eyes.
“You won’t do yourself any good if you screw up your recovery.” Nathan slid a piece of pizza onto a plate and handed it to Helen.
She took it without thanks. “That’s the last thing I want to do. But I can’t sit here and do nothing.” She wasn’t shifted to be back at Golden Dragon for almost a week. If she’d been able to plan for the takeover, she’d have something to occupy her mind, but she couldn’t make any decisions until the results were in. It was a vicious circle.
One she was sick and tired of travelling.