Carly's Gift (39 page)

Carly slowly replaced the receiver in its cradle. After another minute she stood and put on her robe. She felt weighted down, as if she'd put on thirty pounds during the four hours she'd been asleep.

While Carly had been home talking to Ethan, her mother and Wally had been giving Shawn and Eric the details of what had happened earlier that day, explaining how it tied into a night eighteen years ago, and trying to prepare them for what would likely be taking place with the people they loved in the near future.

At fourteen and fifteen, they were old enough to be repelled by the news that their mother and sister had the same father, but not yet mature enough to look beyond the effect it would have on their own lives. Carly was confident that in time they would realize they weren't the ones who'd been hurt the most and that they would be able to reach out to the people who needed them. But for now all they could see or feel was their own pain.

There was a light tapping on the door, followed by a soft, “Carly? Are you awake?”

“Come in, Mom.”

Barbara appeared, carrying a cup of coffee. “I thought I heard you moving around in here.” She handed the coffee to Carly. “How did you sleep?”

Carly put the cup on the nightstand and finished trying her robe. “I think I've figured out why you've kept this bed all these years—to make sure company doesn't stay too long.”

“I'll have Wally go over to Sears on his lunch hour and buy a new one.”

“The bed's fine.”

“Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“Andrea's nurse. I meant to call earlier, but forgot to set the alarm. I'll pay you back—”

“Since you're going to be staying here for a while, I think we need to get some ground rules set down right now. I'll not hear another word of what you think you owe me or when you'll pay me back. Is that understood?”

Carly should have known better than to bring it up. There was little enough her mother could control at the moment, it was certain she would take charge where she could and do it with a vengeance. Somehow, someday Carly would find a way to pay her mother back. Until then, she wouldn't mention money again. “Did Wally go to work?” she asked, moving on to a safer subject.

“An hour ago. Now tell me how Andrea's doing.”

“The same.”

“Shouldn't she be getting better pretty soon?”

“It's only been four weeks.”

“But I thought you said the doctor expected her to be in remission in six. Don't you think—” Barbara swallowed the last. “I'm sorry. With everything else you've got on your mind this morning you don't need me quizzing you.” She reached over to adjust the collar on Carly's robe. “Now, what can I fix you for breakfast?”

Carly knew better than to tell her mother she wasn't hungry. “Oatmeal sounds good.”

Barbara considered Carly's request. “It's amazing when you think about it. Wally asked for the same thing this morning. I'm surprised somebody hasn't written a book about the foods that make you feel better when you're down.”

Carly took a sip of her coffee. “They're probably connected to happy childhood memories.”

Barbara put her arm through Carly's. “It's nice to know you still have a few of those,” she said, a catch in her voice.

“We promised we wouldn't do that to each other, Mom. No more looking back, no more regrets, and not one single, solitary ‘if only.' ”

“How did I raise such a smart daughter?”

Carly slipped her hand into her mother's. “I learned by example.”

A half hour later, Carly was loading the dishwasher when the telephone rang. “I'll get it,” Barbara said, wiping her hands on a towel.

Barbara is clipped, “Hello,” was followed by a warmer, “We're doing just fine,” letting Carly know it was Wally on the other end. Carly folded her antenna and went back to work, reaching for the cereal bowls and rinsing them under the faucet. Not until she heard her mother ask in a hushed tone, “Are you sure?” did she look up again.

A stricken expression crossed Barbara's face. “I'll tell her,” she said. “That won't be necessary, I still have some money left that I can give her.” Several seconds passed. “I told you that you don't need to do that, Wally. I have plenty.” Again she paused. “All right,” she said with a sigh of capitulation. “I'll meet you at the bank in an hour.”

“What's going on?” Carly asked when her mother had hung up the phone.

“A friend of Wally's up in Boehm County called him this morning. He said it looks like Hallie's going to get her way on this thing. We have some time before the ball gets rolling too fast, but Wally thinks you should get out of here and back to Andrea as soon as we can make the arrangements.” She hesitated. “He said not to let you tell anyone that you're leaving, not even Shawn and Eric, and that I should drive you over to Pittsburgh to catch the plane.”

Wally would not have suggested anything so melodramatic without being convinced there was a real possibility that if she didn't leave now, she might not be able to leave at all. “My suitcase is at the house,” she said, thinking out loud. “I'll go over there and pick it up while you're at the bank.”

“What are you going to do if Ethan is there?”

“He said he wanted me out. As far as he's concerned, I'm just doing what I'm told.”

The next day, Carly was waiting for her suitcase at Heathrow listening to the telephone ring at David's house.

Victoria answered. “Carly,” she said with surprising warmth, “David has been near frantic trying to reach you.”

“Has something happened?” she demanded, at the same time fighting an urge to hang up before Victoria could answer.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Andrea's the same. Hanging in there like the trooper she is. Actually, it's you David has been concerned about.”

Carly almost choked on her relief. “I'm here—at Heathrow. I know I should have called before I left, but there wasn't time.”

“Shall I send Harold round to pick you up?”

Carly was taken aback by Victoria's seeming change in attitude. It was as if in the short time she'd been gone, they'd become close friends. “That would take too long. I'll grab a cab.”

“Will you be calling David at the hospital to tell him you've arrived, or would you like me to do that for you?”

The thought flashed through Carly's mind that Victoria was one of those women who excelled in times of crisis, but the explanation seemed too simplistic. “If you wouldn't mind—”

“Not at all. Glad to do it.”

“Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“He'll be pleased to hear it, I'm sure,” she said.

Carly was at the sink in the visitors' room scrubbing her hands for the prescribed three minutes when she looked up and saw Jeffery coming toward her. “You look tired,” she said by way of greeting, slipping back into the intense microcosm of Andrea's world as if she'd never been away.

He reached up and untied the hospital gown he was wearing. “Some fresh air is all I need to set me to rights again. Thought I'd find a sweetshop and pick up something soft. Might be good to have it around when Andrea starts thinking about food again.”

“Has she said something about being hungry?”

He shook his head. “I don't expect she will until she's through with the stuff they've got her on now. I just want to be prepared.”

Carly reached for a towel to dry her hands. Jeffery picked up her gown and helped her put it on. “Have you seen David today?” she asked.

“He left to get something to eat a while back. I should think he'd be back any time now.”

“If you pass him on your way out, would you tell him I'm here?”

“He wasn't expecting you?”

“Not this soon.”

“Then I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him. Hearing you're back will do him good.”

They walked out into the hallway together and said good-bye. As she started toward Andrea's room, she thought how different this floor was from the one where Shawn had been. There, the doors to the rooms had stood open except when the doctors were examining patients. Here, they were closed to keep out ambient germs. Shawn had been inundated with visitors, Andrea was restricted to immediate family, with Jeffery the lone exception.

Because of the bizarre transformation of Andrea's leukemia, Dr. Reardon told them he intended to continue her chemotherapy even in remission. He'd warned them that even though the drugs would be different and the dosage less, she could still be very sick.

Her only chance was a transplant.

Her best chance at a match had been her uncles.

The thought was eating a hole in Carly's stomach. How could she have been so sure and so wrong at the same time? Were there words she could have used to convince her grandmother? Was there something she could have done?

She had risked everything.

And it wasn't just that she'd come away empty-handed, she'd opened floodgates and released a torrent that could destroy the lives of the very people she'd been protecting with her silence.

Thirty-five

The blinds were
drawn in Andrea's room, blocking out the afternoon sun and changing the cream walls to a soft yellow. Carly quietly slipped inside and went to the bed to get a closer look at her daughter.

Andrea was wearing a brightly colored scarf wrapped around her head with the ends twisted and tied, making it look like a close-fitting hat. It could only mean that while Carly was gone, Andrea had lost most of what little hair she'd had left. The iPod David had given her for her birthday sat on her lap; the earbuds were stuck in her ears.

Carly leaned close to listen to Andrea's breathing, trying to decide whether she was asleep or just lost in the music. As if sensing her mother's presence, Andrea opened her eyes.

“Mom!” she said, and smiled. “When did you get here?” She tried to sit up, but the effort was too much.

Carly leaned over and pressed a kiss to Andrea's forehead, automatically checking for a temperature. She seemed warmer than she should have been, but maybe it was the scarf. “I just walked in the door.”

Andrea's smile turned into a sheepish grin. “Wait a minute.” She pulled the headphones off. “Now I can hear you.”

“I just walked in the door,” Carly repeated.

“You missed Jeffery.”

“We passed each other in the hall.”

“How did he look to you?”

Carly pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. “Fine. Shouldn't he?”

“He looks so tired to me.”

“To me, too,” she acknowledged. “But then, that's to be expected, don't you think? He's worried about you and with all the time he's spent here in the hospital, he's probably not getting as much sleep as he's used to.”

Andrea groaned. “I never thought I'd ever say this, but I'm tired of being the center of attention. I wish everyone would go back to doing what they were doing before I got sick.”

Carly had to work to keep the lightness in her voice. Despite what David and the doctor had told her, Andrea didn't seem the same as when she'd left. Even the slightest movement took effort. When she blinked, it took her eyelids a fraction of a second longer to open and close. “I'll make you a deal. The minute you get well, we'll go right back to ignoring you. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful. Now tell me what everybody back home is doing.”

“They're concerned about you, of course. And they all send their love. Grandma Barbara wanted to send cookies but I told her that you would appreciate them a lot more in a couple of weeks.”

“David and Jeffery will shoot you if they find out.”

Carly searched her mind for tidbits of information that would give her trip home an air of normality when all she could think about was Hallie. “Shawn and Patty broke up,” Carly went on, “but are back together again.”

“I'll bet Eric wasn't too happy about that.”

“Actually, I think he's beginning to bend a little where Patty is concerned. He even went to a party at her house a couple of weeks ago.”

The corner of Andrea's mouth drew up in a grin. She put her hand up to cover the grimace of pain the movement caused. Plainly she was still having trouble with the lesions in her mouth. “Patty doesn't have anything to do with it, Mom,” she said after the pain had eased, moving her mouth only as much as necessary to form the words. “Eric's been hot for Patty's little sister for months now.”

“How do you know that?”

“Remember when he called to talk to you that time in Bath? You and David had gone out to dinner,” she prompted.

Carly nodded.

“We were on the phone the whole time you were gone.” She reached up to adjust her scarf where it had begun to slip down her forehead. “He kept talking about the dumbest things until finally I figured out what he was after—he wanted to know what a girl expected out of a guy on the first date.”