Luanne Rice (20 page)

“I can’t—”

“If you
can’t for yourself, do it for Rose,” he said. “I’m a biologist, not a doctor.
But I know this—the two of you were imprinted on my heart the minute I helped
bring Rose into this world. I never thought I’d say this, Lily—I’ve never been
married, never been engaged, never been a father. I’m none of those things to
you and Rose, but I’m yours for life. It’s just the way it is.”

“Liam—”

“It’s just
the way it is,” he repeated, his blue eyes serious and steady. “Like it or
not.”

And then
the doctor had called them in. It was time for Rose to be wheeled away for
open-heart surgery. Standing there as they took her daughter away, Lily thought
her own heart would explode—but Liam held her hand. He held it the whole time
Rose was in surgery. The team performed a double bypass on her baby daughter,
using the Blaylock-Taussig shunt.

When the
doctors emerged, Lily let go of Liam’s hand. What he had said was nice—very
noble. But Rose had survived the surgery, and now Liam could go back to his own
life and they’d continue on with theirs. The surgeons explained to her and Liam
that the procedure was merely palliative, until Rose grew big enough for
more-extensive surgery.

“More?”
Lily asked, feeling her knees go weak.

“Ms.
Malone, Tetralogy of Fallot means that there are four different defects. Rose
will need extensive, complex open-heart surgery to reconstruct her heart. A
hard road lies ahead. But Rose is amazing—strong, a fighter.” They kept
talking, but Lily stopped listening. She just shut down, unable to take it all
in.

“We can’t
go through all this,” Lily said to Liam, sobbing again when the doctors left.

“Yes, you
can. You have to.”

“I can’t,”
she cried. “I can’t watch her suffer!”

“Lily, my
mother couldn’t stand to see me suffer after we lost my brother. I had a lot of
surgeries too. But she just … went away. I needed her, just like Rose needs
you. I promised you, and I’ll never break it—I’m going to help you. Anytime you
need to be strong, call me and I’ll help. The doctor is right: Rose
is
a fighter. You’ll see. She’s a
miracle girl.”

“A miracle
girl,” Lily murmured, grasping the phrase, looking up with red, swollen eyes.

“She is,”
Liam said. “I knew it from the minute she was born.”

“How?”
Lily asked.

“Well,” he
said. “I’ll tell you sometime.”

Now, nine
years later, they were all still on that same hard road. Lily sat by Rose’s
bed. The balloons Liam had brought were still tied to the rail. They had
fizzled out some, but Rose refused to let them be taken away. Lily looked at
her watch—Liam still wasn’t back. She tried to needlepoint again, but her heart
wasn’t in it—she couldn’t concentrate on the canvas.

She
constantly told him she didn’t want him there, but the truth was, when he
wasn’t, she felt empty. During the nine years since leaving Rose’s father, she
had become very strong and sure of herself. She had done a lot of research on
domestic violence, realized the danger she’d been in. She had dealt with her
guilt over staying as long as she
had,
and her grief
over having to leave behind everything she’d left. She was a fighter, like
Rose.

But at moments
like this, she realized how much Liam’s promise had meant to her. Being so
strong and tough, she didn’t want to rely on anyone else. Liam was in a
category all his own—he wasn’t “anyone else.” She told herself that the promise
was for Rose. Rose loved him—that was for sure.

So, on
Rose’s account, Lily stood up from her chair and went to the window. The World
War I monument shimmered in the reflecting pool. A few doctors and hospital
visitors had pulled park chairs into the shade and were reading beneath the
trees. Lily pressed her forehead against the glass, trying to see the heron.
She couldn’t—the bird wasn’t visible from here.

And neither
was Liam. Maybe he had finally gotten tired of strong-arming her into letting
him keep his promise. She could hardly blame him.

The thing
was
,
she realized she’d never gotten him to tell her
why he’d first called Rose “the miracle girl.” Maybe she hadn’t wanted to hear,
was afraid to believe. But knowing the difficult surgery that lay ahead for
Rose, the one that might finally fix her heart, Lily thought that now would be
a really good time for her to hear that story. She found herself hoping Liam
would come back soon.

Chapter 18

L
iam pulled into the hospital parking lot just
before eight—he wanted a chance to see Rose before visiting hours ended, and he
was elated by what he had just seen on his computer screen—MM122 blinking away,
safe and alive, but in a spot so completely unexpected, he had failed to plug
the GPS coordinates into the program—because it had been too unlikely.

Walking
into the lobby, climbing into the elevator, he was struck by the
juxtaposition—from the wild, fresh air of Cape Hawk to the hermetically sealed
atmosphere of the hospital. When would Rose be well enough to stay out of
places like this? Liam’s excitement over finding Nanny disappeared, replaced by
a physical aching for Rose’s confinement—the nine-year-old girl he loved,
having to spend so many summer days imprisoned in here, in her body.

But by the
time he got to the floor, he’d calmed himself down, set the expression on his
face. He paused at the door to her room.

Lily had
pulled the chair next to the bed, and was needlepointing while Rose read. Liam
saw the way Lily’s dark hair fell across her face, sharply angled and neatly
cut,
a raven’s wing. It blocked her vision, but Rose looked
up from the book, over her mother’s head, and saw Liam standing there. He put
on his biggest smile for Rose.

“You’re
here,” Rose said.

“Wild
horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“Are there
wild horses in Nova Scotia?”

He looked
deep in thought. “Wild eagles, I should have said.”

“Or wild whales.”

Lily
smiled, but she seemed to be looking everywhere but at Liam. He couldn’t quite
figure it out—usually she had no problem just gazing at him head-on, with that
inscrutable look in her eyes. There was most often a challenge in Lily’s
gaze—her chin tilted slightly up, as if saying “Bring it on.” But right now,
she looked almost fragile, as if the fight had gone out of her, her hands
trembling as they held the canvas.

He wanted
to ask, but he knew he had to wait until they were out of earshot. So instead,
he unpacked the bag Anne had sent.

“Anne
wanted me to give you these things,” he said. “Your friend Jessica made this
pillow—”

“My best friend!”

“Well,
that’s obviously how she feels too.”

“It’s
Nanny,” Rose said, touching the embroidered whale. “It smells like home.”

“Filled
with Cape Hawk pine needles,” Liam said.

“Why does
it say ‘Bring Rose Home’?” she asked.

“She misses
you,” Lily said as she gave Rose a secret look of pleasure and triumph.

“She does,”
Liam said. “The Nanouk Girls are helping her make more of these, and they’re
selling them at the inn, to raise money to get you well as soon as possible.
Nanny wants it too. Rose, she’s telling you in as strong a way as possible.”

“I want to
get well,” Rose said with a tiny voice.

“You will,”
Lily said. “You are getting well. It’s happening right now, every minute.”

“Jessica
also made these,” Liam said.
“For you to give the nurses.”

He watched Lily
and Rose look through the plastic bag of pinecone jewelry, and suddenly Lily
excused herself, dropped her needlework, and walked out into the hallway. Liam
wanted to follow her, but Rose was watching her mother anxiously, so he stayed.

“Why did
she go out?” Rose asked.

“Maybe she
went to get the nurses,” he said.

“We’re
going to Boston tomorrow,” Rose said.

“I know.”

“Did you
see Jessica? I thought maybe she wanted a new best friend. I wouldn’t blame
her—I’m not there anymore.”

“You’ll be
home soon,” Liam said. “And it seems to me that she has only one best
friend—you. That’s why she wants to ‘bring Rose home.’ ”

“She and
Nanny are waiting for me?”

“Rose,”
Liam began, not even knowing how to tell her. It seemed so scientifically
impossible—he hesitated to mention it, until he was able to tell for sure.

“Are you
coming to Boston with us?” Rose asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“I wouldn’t
miss it,” he said.

“Sometimes
I wonder …” she said, stopping herself. Liam didn’t push, or try to urge the words
out of her. He just waited. She cleared her throat. He saw all the tubes and
wires going in and out of her body, listened to the machines whirring and
clicking around her. He wanted to pick her up and hold her, tell her that
everything would be all right. But Rose knew too much for such platitudes. Her
nine-year-old eyes were wiser than those of most of the professors he’d had in
college.

“What do
you wonder, Rose?”

“I wonder
what Mom would do without me. I’m all she has.”

Liam saw
her reaching across the bed to hold his hand. He started to squeeze her
fingers, but she reached past his good hand and held his prosthesis instead.
Her tiny hand, tinged blue, with those clubbed fingers, grasping his big, fake,
clunky hand. The gesture touched and shocked him, and he had to fight from
showing it. Rose stared into his eyes.

“Maybe I’m
not all she has,” Rose said.

Liam felt
his pulse racing. She wouldn’t look away.

“Maybe not,
Rose,” he said.

They gazed
at each other for a long time, and Liam felt himself making a new promise, too
deep for words.

By the time
Lily walked back into the room, everything was clear. Outside, the sun had set,
and the footlights had come up on the tall monument. Liam saw it glowing out
the window. He thought back many years, to the day his brother was born. He
thought of how much love there was in the world, of how impossible it seems
that it will ever be taken away.

Gazing down
at Rose Malone, watching her mother brush her hair and get her ready for bed,
her last night in this hospital, he realized something he’d never known before:
it had to do with Connor, and his parents, and Lily, and Rose, and Liam
himself. He had never realized it before, but now he knew he’d never forget it.
He had to tell Lily, and he had to tell her tonight. And he had something to
show her, that not even he could believe.

After Rose
gave the nurses their pinecone earrings, and the doctor came for one last
visit, and the night nurse gave Rose her sedative, and Rose fell asleep, Lily
gathered up her things. She kept looking around the room, thinking she’d
forgotten something. But she had her bag, her needlepointing stuff, her hotel
key, the pine pillow Liam had brought. Liam waited at the door, watching
her—with anticipation, but as if he wanted to give her all the time in the
world.

They walked
outside, and the night air felt so hot compared to the air-conditioned hospital
chill. Lily felt nervous and keyed up about tomorrow, but also exhausted. She
headed for his truck, when she felt him grab her arm.

“What?” she
asked.

“Come with
me,” he said.

Lily gave
him a puzzled look, but he didn’t explain. He led her in the opposite
direction, toward the city park. Kids were hanging out at the band shell,
laughing and playing music on a radio. Liam steered her around the public
garden, straight to the reflecting pool. The monument, lit by bright halogen
lamps, rose into the hazy sky. Lily saw its image shimmering in the long pool
of water, and she felt a pang of homesickness for the sea.

“I miss …”
she began.

“What do
you miss, Lily?”

“Salt
water,” she said.

“It’s right
down the hill,” he said. “Melbourne Harbor …”

“I know,”
she said. “But I miss Cape Hawk. And even more than that, I miss my home.”

“I thought
Cape Hawk was your home.”

“Before
Cape Hawk,” Lily said. Her throat was
tight,
memories
flooding in of warm sand, silver-green marshes, and a beloved rose garden
tended by a woman she had loved her whole life. What did it mean? Lily usually
held herself together so well, especially gearing up for one of Rose’s
procedures. But right now, she felt as if she might die of old sorrow and
longing.

“The night
Rose was born,” Liam said, “you were crying for home.”

“I knew I’d
never see it again,” she said.

“And you
cried out ‘I need you, I need you …’ ”

Lily
nodded, staring up at the granite column. He was waiting for an explanation,
but Lily couldn’t trust herself to give it. She felt as if an earthquake was
just starting deep inside. She needed to contain it—hold back the emotions, try
to keep the plates from shifting. She felt the waves beginning, rising, and she
didn’t want to test their power.

“Who did
you need, Lily?”

“I want to
tell you, Liam,” she said. “But I can’t.”

“Don’t you
know you’re safe? I’d protect you from anything.”

“You can’t protect
me from my own heart. It breaks when I think of her—I can’t talk about her.”

He was so
silent for so long; crickets sang in the bushes, and animals rustled in the
woods. Lily’s heart ached—for love so deeply buried, she had almost forgotten
it was there. She saw flashes of an old smile she knew so well, blue eyes,
silver hair, gnarled fingers closed around the wooden handle of a garden
trowel.

“I wish I
could introduce you to her,” she said, letting her gaze move upward, to Liam’s
deeply set blue eyes. “She’s someone who was very important to me—the most
important person, until Rose. Liam, I don’t seem very grateful to you, I know.
But that’s changed this time. I know what you’ve done for me, for Rose. Thank
you for staying with us. The waiting has been so hard … I’m so scared, Liam.”

“About the surgery?”

Lily
nodded, hugging herself. The crickets sounded so loud. She looked
up,
saw bats circling the monument in the orange light. Her
heart split, to think of Rose’s school report, the one she had done on
echocardiograms and the sonar of bats.

“I’ve never
been like this before. Rose is just—well, you know. Everyone says she’s ‘such a
fighter,’ and she is. She is! She’s had this condition since she was born. You
were there—you know. We’ve just lived with it, never questioned it. I’ve
followed her lead, and she’s always been so brave. But this time—Liam, the
waiting is so much harder. What if something terrible happens? Or what if the
surgery doesn’t work?”

“It will
work,” Liam said, standing very close. She couldn’t stop looking into his
eyes—he sounded so sure.

“I just
can’t stand waiting,” she whispered.

“You told
me you had someone you wished I could meet,” he said. “It’s the same with me,”
he said. “I wish I could introduce you to my family.”

“I know
Jude,” she said, puzzled at the change of subject.
“And Anne,
and all the other Neills.
Camille—”

Liam shook
his head. “Others, who aren’t here
anymore
. It’s why I
wanted to walk you over here, to the monument. I stood here with my father the
day my brother was born.”

“Connor,”
she said. The little boy who had been killed by a shark …

“Yes,” he
said. “The day he was born, my father and I were standing out here. I was just
three, and I was really worried about my mother. She was in the hospital, and I
didn’t understand. My father pointed up at the monument, and he told me a
family story. My great-grandfather had fought in the war.”

“Your father’s grandfather?”

“Yes.
Tecumseh Neill—the
son of the sea captain
that founded
Cape Hawk, the one we named the boats after. He was over in France, and letters
were very scarce. Even his father, the fearsome whale captain, was terrified
that his son would never come home.”

“What
happened?”

“My father
told me that his grandfather had been wounded on the battlefront and was last
seen lying in a muddy trench. His squadron had retreated—and when they got back
to camp, he was gone. The word came that he was missing in action. The whole
family waited for word, but thought he must have been killed. Time went past—weeks
and then months.”