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After learning of the biopsy, Megan had forced Helen to promise she would let her know the moment she had results. But her encounter with Nathan had left her soul torn and blistered, so she’d done nothing on Friday evening but huddle under a blanket while pretending to pay attention to whatever was on the television. Outside, lightning sparked and thunder boomed, so close at times the photos on her walls rattled and the lights flickered. The storm was still rumbling ferociously when she fell asleep.
She woke with the late dawn light shining in her eyes, a stiff neck, and an aching spine. For a single, stabbing moment she was back in the early days after Aaron’s death, when she’d rouse in much the same state. Unwilling to sleep in their bed and needing the comfort of people, even if they were only two-dimensional representations on a glass screen, she’d spent much of that first terrible month drowsing on the couch.
Dragging herself to the kitchen, she prepped the coffeemaker. As she waited for it to drip through, she stepped onto her deck into a world that smelled so fresh and clean it was like breathing champagne. A gentle breeze caressed her, the early morning air vibrant on her skin. Despite the evidence of last night’s storm in drenched cushions, broken branches, and scattered flower petals, she felt a rush of something too faint to call hope, but positive, nonetheless.
She may have lost Nathan, but she had survived tragedy before. Because of him she’d opened her heart and let others in. Sven and Jamie had become unexpected allies, and the Silverberries were proving to be more than casual acquaintances.
Somewhere along the way she’d also come to understand her own need for independence was rooted in a fear of rejection. If she didn’t ask, then no one could say no. But time and time again recently she’d been proven wrong. She doubted she’d ever be completely comfortable with sharing every need and want, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t bend a little.
Speaking of which...
Nora was a notoriously early riser, so she had no compunction at texting Megan even though it was not yet seven o’clock. She kept it light and chatty, inviting the family over for dinner. Megan replied with acceptance for her and Nora, but regrets from Nicholas as he was away at a dental conference.
Any news from the biopsy? Megan texted.
We’ll talk tonight, Helen texted back. She waited, biting her lip, as the three dots flashed. But all that came back was a thumbs up emoji. With a sigh, she went to get her first coffee of the day.
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NATHAN WAS HOLED UP in his study, sunk low in his favourite chair, feet on the coffee table. On the television, a commentator spoke in a low, soothing, British-accented voice. Golf was the perfect sport for moping—long moments of peace between short instances of intensity, with frequent replays so he didn’t miss anything should he garner the enthusiasm to care.
Something was nagging him about Helen’s announcement yesterday. Well, a lot of things were nagging him, but she had made one statement in particular that, in the confusion and agitation of the moment, he hadn’t called her on.
It was hours after she left before he’d had the composure to recall the entire conversation. He’d been stretched out sleepless in his room, trying to forget the fact he’d made love to Helen in the very bed he was lying on, when it had come back to him.
I have an appointment with my doctor on Monday. She’s going to tell me I have cancer.
Going to tell. Not has told.
What exactly did that mean? Helen wouldn’t lie about something so important, so she must believe what she said. Of course, she could have been using it as an acceptable excuse to end their relationship, simply because she wanted out herself.
No. She wouldn’t do that. Helen was a straight shooter. If she’d decided to end what they had, she’d tell him, not use a horrifying disease as a get-out-of-jail-free card. But it would be just like Helen to break it off with him because she thought that was what he wanted and was trying to spare him the decision. Regardless of what she needed. What she wanted.
Once he’d clarified that, he’d turned to examining his feelings about the promotion. If he’d refused it because of Helen and she was serious about breaking off their relationship, then he’d given up the promotion for nothing. He should be feeling intense regret at missing out on his dreams a second time.
He wasn’t. He felt nothing but relief and a slight remorse at disappointing his sons. All these years he’d blamed Wanda for shortchanging his career, and now he’d done it to himself and was happy about it. He offered up a silent apology.
As he wasted the day watching grown men chase a little white ball, one conviction grew stronger.
His love for Helen had flared from an ember of friendship and loyalty and passion that was stronger than any challenges it might face. He wasn’t about to let her go at the first bump in the road. He needed to confront her about last night. If the ambiguity he’d spotted meant what he thought it meant, she wasn’t going to get away with it.
He wasn’t fooling himself about what the future might hold. How could he when he’d already lived through this scenario once? If she did have cancer, the road would be treacherous and fraught with peril. But the thought of Helen walking it alone made him sick to his stomach. She’d said she would be fine, relying on her friends and family to support her, but that wouldn’t be enough.
She needed him.
Whether she knew it or not.
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NORA BUILT A COMPLICATED structure out of Lego blocks as Megan and Helen sipped their after-dinner wine on the couch.
Telling Megan had been both distressing and comforting. For one thing, her daughter had called her out on her pessimistic outlook. It had been her constant refrain all evening, and she continued it now.
“I know waiting is painful.” She kept her voice low out of deference to Nora. Helen gave thanks her granddaughter was too young to catch the nuances in the conversation. “But I honestly think you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. Or at the very least, an unwarranted one. It’s common practice not to give results over the phone.”
Helen gave a tired nod, hoping this wordless response would be enough. Further argument was pointless. She and Megan were only repeating themselves, and she was exhausted.
More than a tiny part of her hoped Megan was right, and Helen had overreacted. But that hope was dangerous. While she’d give almost anything to have her verdict overturned, choosing to believe the news would be positive and then having the guillotine drop would be harder to take.
“Gramma! Look what I made!” Nora sat on her heels and beamed at the gravity-defying architectural marvel she’d created.
“That’s lovely, sweetie. Good job.” A crushing weight made it hard for Helen to breathe. She’d promised herself that, if her instincts were right and she was given the diagnosis she expected, she’d do her best to remain positive. Moments like these were precious, and she intended to store them up for the dark days ahead.
“Let’s help Gramma clean up, and then we should head home.” Megan wrapped an arm around Helen’s shoulders and whispered in her ear. “Unless you’d like us to stay? Nicholas doesn’t get home until tomorrow afternoon.”
Helen shook her head. “I’ll be fine. And I expect you to bring Nora on Wednesday as per usual.” No matter what happened at Monday’s appointment, she doubted any treatments would be in motion two days later.
“Of course.”
A few minutes later Helen waved goodbye to Megan and Nora after giving each a slightly longer hug than usual. She waited until the car was out of sight, then turned to go in. A flash of movement caught her attention.
Nathan stood in the shadows between their houses.
Every cell in her body cried out for him, to run to him and have him wrap her in his arms and make it all go away. Her need was so fierce it froze her in place. As he strode forward, she told herself she should race inside, lock the door. Because if he got within reach, she didn’t think she could keep her promise to give him his freedom.