Foolish Notions (16 page)

“Of course.”

“I’ll need all access codes
and passwords.”

“I’d like to be there when
you access the information.”

“I understand,” Al
answered. “Contact me when everything is ready and you want to
meet. I think the sooner the better.”

“It’s going to take me at
least a day to get everything. And when we meet it’ll have to
be after hours.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll call and let you know
when.”

James clenched the cell phone tightly
before he tossed it on the desk, seething with rage. Whoever was
responsible for this would pay dearly, he would make sure of it. He
pictured McDonald. He would take the man down if all this led back to
him.

* * * * *

Marie sat in the deep settee, each
elbow resting on the arms, crocheting a pale green blanket. “You
know, I’m feeling much better today.”

“I told you, you would,”
Samantha said from the kitchen, where she was filling a large plastic
watering container.

“It wasn’t that I doubted
you, dear.” The older woman looped the yarn twice over her
needle. “I was so ill I couldn’t imagine ever feeling
good again.”

“I know.” Bless her heart,
Samantha thought as she lifted the container out of the sink and
carried it into the adjoining room. Marie had been such a trooper
through it, too. Never once had she complained about anything. And
there had been more than one occasion that she could have cried like
a baby. God knows, she herself would have broken down if she had to
go through half of what Marie has gone through so far.

“It’s a good thing I’m
feeling better.” She shook her head. “Staying in my room
was starting to depress me.”

“I know. Something as simple as
coming downstairs is a nice change, isn’t it?”

Marie nodded in agreement. “You’ll
never know how nice. I’ve been so thankful for the break in
between treatments. I’m dreading this next round. I’ll
undoubtedly be quarantined to my room again.”

“If you’d take—”

“I’m not taking a handful
of pills, so don’t even suggest it,” Marie interrupted
sternly. “I know you want me to, but I hate the thought of it.
I already take enough with what’s mandatory.”

“I want you to have the least
amount of side effects. The medication will help take the edge off,
that’s why I’m so adamant about you taking them.”
Samantha moved around the room watering the houseplants. “But
ultimately it’s up to you whether you take them or not.”

“Thank you for respecting my
wishes, but I’ll pass.”

Samantha turned toward Marie and smiled
lightly. “Do these miniature roses get water?”

“Just a little, dear. We don’t
want them to get root rot.”

Samantha went back to the sink and
refilled the pitcher. She added several drops of plant fertilizer to
the water. “The side effects that you have now are more than
likely all you will get.”

“I’m not sure if that’s
a relief or not.” Marie tugged on the green fiber to unravel a
portion of it from the ball that rested on the floor at her feet.
“James has been working late these last few weeks.”

Samantha made no comment.

“I think he’s been leaving
very early, too.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed.”
It was the truth. She hadn’t noticed the hours James was
keeping because, frankly, she didn’t care. She rolled her eyes
the second she’d finished the thought. Okay, there might have
been a few nights she wouldn’t allow herself to fall asleep
until she heard his car pull into the drive.

But that was it. She cringed. That
wasn’t true, either. She had also heard him almost every
morning out in the hall, checking on his mom. She had even caught him
cracking her door and checking on her, too. Of course she had
pretended to be asleep.

Marie’s hands and crochet hook
stopped moving as she watched Samantha. “Are you okay?

“What? Yes, I’m fine.”
Samantha pulled herself together long enough to pinch off a dead leaf
and stare at it.

“I hate it when he works so
hard.”

“He works hard all the time.”

“Yes, but not this hard. He needs
to take a break.” She shook her head. “My husband used to
say that hard work kept a man young, but I don’t think he meant
this.”

“He knows his limits.” She
held her voice steady.

Marie sighed loudly. “I’m
not too certain that he does.

That’s what bothers me.”

“He’ll take care of
himself.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re
right.” She sighed heavily again. “He might burn himself
out though.”

“Not likely. He loves his work.”
She shook her head in disagreement. “James was meant for the
corporate world. It races through his blood like an addictive drug.”

“That he does. But, I know all
this is hard on him.” She shifted restlessly in the chair.
“It’s hard for him to see me sick.”

Samantha’s smile weakened. “Yes,
it is. But he’s coping with it. We all are.” She turned
to Marie and looked at her thoughtfully. “You know what really
amazes me? It’s the ability we have to muster up strength when
we didn’t believe there was any.” She touched Marie’s
shoulder. “He’s fine.”

Marie nodded, but spoke quickly. “But
he’s alone. He doesn’t have anyone.” She fidgeted
with the yarn. “I have him, but who does he have? Whom will he
turn to when it’s too much for him?” Her eyes found
Samantha’s and settled.

Samantha moved away from her and
swallowed the gagging knot lodged in the back of her throat. “He
has friends.”

“Friends can only do so much,”
Marie insisted. “Besides, his friends are mostly employees and
coworkers; they’re not true friends. There’s a
difference.”

“Marie, I promise you, he’ll
be fine.”

“I just worry about him.”

“I know you do.” She smiled
as she shifted the subject. “Now, what sounds good for dinner?”

“Nothing.”

“You can say that every evening,
but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fix anything.”
Samantha went back into the kitchen and stored the watering can and
fertilizer under the sink. She made sure she put everything back
exactly where she had found it. Ginger would have her head on a
platter if she didn’t.

Marie raised her shoulders. “You
might as well not. It goes to waste anyway. Every bite tasted
metallic, like I’m sucking on a coin. Why bother eating if it
doesn’t taste good?”

“You need to eat for your
strength.” She looked across the room. “You’ll get
your appetite back and when you do it will be twofold.”

“I hope you’re right. If I
lose any more weight I’ll look like a skeleton.” She
tugged on the yarn. “What about take-out?”

“Do you have something in mind?”
Samantha asked hopefully. She hadn’t thought to suggest
ordering out when she had been trying to find something that Marie
could keep down. She had been trying to keep it simple. Perhaps what
she needed wasn’t something plain and bland but something
packed full of flavor.

Marie wrinkled her nose. “Not
really. But you’ve cooked every night for the last few weeks. I
think you need a break.”

“Nonsense. What else do I have to
do?” Samantha said as she searched through the cupboards. She
was hoping that some unforgotten recipe would pop into her mind when
she saw the vital ingredient. There had to be something around here
that Marie would eat.

“Well, if you put that much
energy into it, the least I could do is eat it.”

Finding nothing, Samantha turned and
said, “If you could have anything your little heart desired,
what would it be?”

Marie thought for a moment. “Chinese
sounds good. I love the one down on the boardwalk.” She
gestured with her hand. “I think James has a menu in the drawer
by the kitchen phone.”

When the front door opened, then
closed, Marie stuffed the blanket along with the remaining yarn into
a tote. “How was your day?” she asked when James walked
into the room.

“Long, but very productive.”
His meeting had ended earlier than expected. This had been the first
evening in weeks that he had been able to get home this early. “It’s
good to see you out here.”

“It feels good to be out here.”
She gestured at her tote. “I’ve even got a little
crocheting done, too.”

“Wonderful.” Seeing her
like this made him almost forget that she had cancer. Despite the
fact that her hair was thinning and she had lost weight, she looked
like her old self. Recently, her life had been nothing more than a
struggle to get from one day to the next. It was nice to see this
normality, for her sake.

James looked around for Samantha and
spotted her in the adjoining kitchen, where she was digging through
the junk drawer. Her hair was down, shielding her face from him as
she intently searched for something. He would love to thread his
fingers through the golden strands, pulling them back at the nape, so
he could place a kiss just beneath her ear. Her pulse would beat
wildly against his lips in response to his touch. The image caused
his body to tighten.

“We’re having Chinese
take-out. Do you want any?” Marie asked.

James blinked and brought himself back
to attention.

“Chinese sounds good to me,”
he answered, reluctantly taking his eyes off Samantha. He sifted
through the mail, dropping a few piece onto the table and tossing the
rest into the trash.

Marie rose to join Samantha, who was
still in the kitchen trying to stuff the bulky contents of the drawer
back in so she could close it. “Did you find it?” she
asked as she moved beside her.

Samantha looked up for the first time
and waved the bright, yellow paper menu in the air. “Yes.”
She caught James’s glance.

“Hi.”

“It’s good to see you.”

Samantha held his eyes momentarily
before she looked back down at the menu. Positioning it in front of
Marie, she said, “What sounds good?”

Marie scanned over the options.

“How about some soup?”
Samantha suggested, pointing to the egg drop soup. “This is
very light and would be easy on your stomach.”

Marie shook her head.

Samantha pointed out a few other items,
and when Marie turned them all down, she asked, “Do you see
anything you like?”

“Not really.”

“We can order something else if
Chinese doesn’t sound appealing,” James said from across
the room. His mother’s appetite had decreased as her treatments
progressed. Finding something appealing was becoming a challenge. He
would ship it in from China if that were what she wanted. He clicked
opened the gold latches on his briefcase after he set it on the
coffee table.

“No, that won’t be
necessary.” Marie searched the menu for several seconds before
she looked up. “I have a wonderful idea. Why don’t you
both go pick something up?”

James shrugged his shoulders,
discarding her suggestion. “Whatever you want we can have them
deliver. There’s no need to go out if we don’t have to,”
he said as he pulled folders from a narrow compartment then arranged
them on the table.

Marie disappeared into the foyer and
then returned to the living room holding Samantha’s sweater,
which she’d taken off the hall tree. “Here, sweetie.”
She held it out until Samantha walked over. “Put this on. It’s
a little on the cool side this evening.”

“Mom, I have work to finish.”
James motioned to the open briefcase on the table.

“Nonsense. You just walked
through the door. Put that briefcase away and start thinking about
something else other than work,” she snapped.

James looked up suddenly.

“Neither one of you”—Marie
looked at each of them—“has been out in weeks.” She
did nothing to soften her tone; if anything she made it a little more
intense.

“I go out every day,” James
countered. She was looking at him like he was twelve. And why was she
reprimanding him in that harsh motherly tone of hers? He had done
nothing to warrant it.

Marie tossed her hand in Samantha’s
direction. “What about Samantha? Do you realize she has only
left the house to take me to the hospital and to get food?”

“I’ve gone to yoga class.”

Marie moved over to her son and looked
down at him with stern, narrow eyes. “Do you hear that? There
is more to life than chemotherapy treatments and yoga.”

James sat in stunned silence as he
gaped at his mom. It wasn’t until she raised a displeased brow
that he realized it was his turn to plead his case. “Mom.”
Oh God, he even sounded like he was twelve. He cleared his throat.
“Samantha knows that she can leave—”

Marie brought her hand to her head.
“I’m very tired.”

“What?” James dropped the
pen and papers he was holding and stared at her.

“I’m so tired. And I
haven’t had the house to myself in awhile. I could use a little
time alone.” She waved her hands in front of her. “It’s
always busy here. Something is always going on. I’ve lived five
years alone without your dad and to be quite honest with you, I like
my solitude. I’ve grown used to it.”

“I didn’t know you wanted
to be alone,” James said, rising from the couch. He assumed he
had thought of his mom’s every need. He didn’t like the
idea that he had overlooked something, especially something as simple
as peace and quiet.

“I like having you both here, but
I could use some quiet time.” She allowed her shoulders to
droop.

“If there’s something you
need, please tell me,” James said.

“I just did. A little quiet time
will do me good.” She put her arm around her son’s waist
and ushered him and Samantha to the door. “Go out and get some
fresh air. And have a nice dinner.” She took the car keys from
the table in the foyer and pushed them into James’s hand.

“What about you?” James
asked as he took the keys.

“To tell you the truth I’m
not really hungry.”

It was James’s turn to inflict
the narrow eyes on her. “You were up for take-out just a minute
ago.”