One Mountain Away (42 page)

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

He ignored her. “Neither of us had the advantage of age or wisdom when that little girl was born. We’ve done well, considering, but we’re older now, and wisdom has to creep in, Taylor. Every hard-earned ounce of wisdom I possess tells me that we
have
to move forward.”

“I’m not going to give my permission.”

“Then I’ll see you in court.”

She got to her feet. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I would and I will. If we can’t come to a decision, we’ll have to ask the courts to appoint a medical guardian to study this and make one for us, because I’m not backing down.”

“I’m so sick of your threats.”

“And I’m sick of having to use threats to make you see reason. You know who you’ve turned into?” He didn’t wait for an answer and got to his feet, too. “Your mother.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you remember? You used to complain and complain to me about how your mother tried to control you. You said she worried about everything and wouldn’t let you do anything you wanted. Your mother hovered over you, but who’s hovering now? Maybe having a child with epilepsy is perfect for you in its own way. Because it’s a great excuse, isn’t it? To control Maddie and keep her at your side because you need her there? Who else do you have?”

Speech fled. She couldn’t form a reply, but she didn’t need to. Jeremy started toward the door, flinging his last words over his shoulder as he opened it.

“I’ll meet Willow and Maddie outside and say goodbye there. You and I will talk again when and if you can see reason. If not, we can both talk to a judge.”

* * *

Charlotte sat at her bedroom window and stared into the distance. She couldn’t see mountains, as her grandmother had from her window. She could see her shade garden and, in the distance, the edge of her neighbor’s garage. Trees formed a canopy over a brick walkway leading to steps to an outdoor patio that was seldom used. She was sorry she couldn’t wish herself there, but trudging down sounded tedious and exhausting, even though it was something that wouldn’t have fazed her in healthier days.

She wondered if Maddie had returned home this afternoon, as Ethan had said. She tried to imagine a life in which she could pick up the telephone, call her daughter and ask. She and Taylor would laugh about Maddie’s return, and Taylor would tell her mother that Maddie had gotten a tan, or pierced her ears. Charlotte would hang up after speaking directly to her granddaughter and promising a visit, so she could hear all the details about life in Nashville. She would arrive with a silly gift, like those stretchy bracelets she’d seen girls Maddie’s age wearing.

The window seat, despite a plush cushion, felt like steel against her legs. Today had been spent either napping or sitting at the window. Ethan hadn’t called, and she imagined he never would. She’d asked herself a hundred times if she’d been wrong not to tell him sooner about the leukemia. If so, which time would have been the right one? In his workshop, when he’d showed her the plans for his factory? Poolside, with children splashing and puppies yapping?

Last night, right before he put his arms around her?

Clearly she’d been wrong, yet she couldn’t ferret out that perfect moment, the one she had obviously missed.

Tomorrow she was going to the hospital, so the first round of chemo could be administered and her reaction observed. If all went well, she could leave and go back each day for a week. But there were no guarantees. There were still people who didn’t know she was ill, and things to do in preparation. She was trying to formulate a plan when there was a knock at her door.

Harmony opened it.

“Sam Ferguson’s here.”

Samantha had been at the top of Charlotte’s list of unfinished business. She wondered if Ethan had told her the news and Samantha had come to sympathize. Then she discarded the idea, because Ethan would be the last person to do her dirty work. Most likely Samantha was here to see why Charlotte hadn’t showed up at the clinic today. The walls were painted now, and today the volunteers had planned to move in tables and chairs Covenant Academy no longer needed in their preschool. Charlotte knew Samantha had expected her to be there to help arrange them and see what was still lacking.

“I’ll be right out,” she told Harmony.

“You’re sure? I could bring her in here.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be right there.”

Harmony looked doubtful, but she left. Charlotte slipped on shoes and combed her hair, then she went to find Sam.

Samantha was in the family room with the puppies, but she didn’t have Edna with her. For once Charlotte was glad not to have the little girl around. She could tell Samantha the truth in privacy.

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” Samantha said.

“Exactly the opposite. I’m really glad you did. Would you like something to drink?”

“The volunteers brought in a five-gallon jug of ice water, and I’m floating as it is. You were missed.”

She was holding a puppy—Velveteen, Charlotte thought—and now she set her down and stood.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there,” Charlotte said.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Charlotte wondered if anybody had glimpsed this thoughtful, perceptive woman inside the troubled teen Samantha had once been. She guessed Georgia had seen the truth and done everything she could to be sure Samantha soared. She also guessed that she, like Charlotte, had been devastated by her daughter’s early choices.

The difference was, Georgia had stood by
her
daughter.

“Something
is
wrong,” Charlotte said.

“You’re not well. I’ve had my suspicions.”

“Let’s sit.”

Samantha joined her on the sofa, the most comfortable one in the house. Charlotte propped pillows behind her back, which seemed to ache now no matter what she did. Slowly she told Samantha the truth. What she had learned and when, what she had done about it, why she had chosen not to say anything.

“I wanted time without the leukemia hanging over every interaction,” she finished. “I wanted time to straighten out my life—well, as much as I could—without people responding to me because they thought I was dying and they knew they had to.” She paused, because the same explanation had fallen flat with Ethan. “But I guess that’s hard to understand.”

“Understand? Not at all,” Samantha said. “I think it’s courageous, Charlotte. Sometimes when people face a challenge, like leukemia, it brings out the worst in them. They dive into themselves, and they never surface again. But you’ve used your diagnosis to reach out. I hope I’ll do the same if I’m ever in a similar situation.”

Charlotte felt tears on her cheeks. “Thank you. Not everyone has understood.”

“I’m just guessing, but I would think there are two sets of people who don’t. Those who don’t care about you at all, and those who care so much they can’t face what might happen.”

“You’re such a wise woman.”

“Oh, I came by it at a price, believe me.” Samantha reached for her hand. “You remember I’m a nurse, right? Even if blood disorders aren’t my specialty, you can always count on me to go to bat for you. You’ll call when you need me?”

“I will. I’m so sorry to be opting out of helping at the clinic. I never meant to start something I couldn’t finish.”

“You can’t be there. It’s germ soup. But I’ll come by regularly to give you a precise rundown.” She laced her fingers through Charlotte’s. “Do you want me to tell Taylor the news? Because I will, if you think it might be a good thing for her to know.”

“Ethan knows. I suspect he may tell her. Would you do something else for me, though?”

“Anything I can.”

“If I die and Taylor hasn’t found her way back, will you tell her I really
did
understand? That I knew it was my fault the path was impassable, and that no matter what, I loved her.”

Samantha looked stricken. “Whew.”

“You’ll do it?”

“I will. Of course.”

Charlotte tried to lighten the discussion. “I may come through this with flying colors. I might become a medical miracle.”

“Don’t quit five minutes before the medical miracle,” Samantha said.

Charlotte managed a laugh. Then she slid over and hugged her. “You and Edna are an unexpected gift. I’ve treasured knowing both of you.”

Samantha hugged her back. “You just keep treasuring, okay? This game’s not over, and you’ve got a cheering section. Just don’t forget it.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

First Day Journal: June 21

The sun is just coming up, something it does slowly anywhere the horizon is rimmed with mountains, but the birds are never fooled. They begin their morning conversation well before dawn and catch up on all the news.

Gran was convinced birds are the smartest creatures in our universe, because from the very beginning, they know how to fly. No person can spread God-given wings and soar above trees just because the time is right. It’s an odd thing to be humbled by birds, but this morning, as I listen to cardinals and blue jays, I’m reminded I should be.

Nell takes Monday mornings off, so the welcome fragrance of coffee is absent. I don’t know what Nell does on the mornings she’s not here. When she’s not watching the sun come up from my kitchen, does her husband bring her breakfast? Does he pad softly upstairs, a tray with a rose against his chest, or maybe just a mug of steaming coffee she didn’t have to make herself? Maybe he lets her sleep because he knows sleep is what she wants most of all.

When Ethan and I lived together, I was always in charge of coffee and Taylor’s school day while he cooked. Ethan’s culinary skills vanished at noon, but his breakfasts were extraordinary. I’m sorry now that I didn’t eat more, that I worried about my weight or my schedule too much to sit across from him at the breakfast table enjoying his omelets or waffles. That whether Taylor’s hair was perfectly combed or her homework in the right section of her backpack mattered more to me than gratitude.

I’m sorry now that before we walked out the door to start our days, I so often forgot to tell them both how much I loved them.

Today I receive my first two injections in the next stage of this battle, and I’ve learned I won’t lose more hair, won’t need an intravenous catheter. I’ll receive injections for a week, then have a glorious four-week vacation before the next round.

Phil claims some patients with my particular history, genetics and chemistry have even gone back into remission with this protocol, but I know many more have not. Rising early to see the sun come up over distant mountains seems like the best tactic in the battle I’m waging. So many mornings of my life passed without me noting anything except my daily calendar.

No matter what happens next, I’ll never make that mistake again.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

ANALIESE WAITED UNTIL late afternoon to visit Charlotte. She knew today was the beginning of the new round of chemo, and she’d debated dropping by. In the end she’d decided to time her visit so if Harmony was heading for work, she could stay for a while herself, just to be sure Charlotte was all right.

Her timing was perfect. Harmony was just coming outside when Analiese arrived, and they chatted on the doorstep.

“How’d she do?” Analiese asked.

“She’s tired. Right now she’s in the den, resting on the sofa. They gave her some medication for nausea, and it helped, but it’s not perfect. I made vegetable soup. I hope she’ll eat some.”

“Maybe I can convince her to try.”

“I won’t be away long. I’m not working tonight, in case Charlotte needs me, but she asked me to drive out to the kennel to get some special kibble for the puppies. She says she’ll be fine.”

Analiese could see that Harmony wasn’t sure of that. She was worried. “I’ll stay with her until you get back, or until she kicks me out.”

Harmony still looked uneasy. “If the minister of my church at home visited Charlotte, he would preach a sermon about how God sends cancer and heart disease, you know, to punish us for our sins. So if you’re planning to go there, please don’t.”

Before Analiese could even think of an answer, Harmony tilted her head in question. “I guess you’re different. Right?”

“Well, he— I’m assuming this is a he?”

Harmony nodded.

“He and I live on the same planet. We have that in common. Otherwise? Not a lot.”

“Good. Because I don’t want anybody making Charlotte feel worse about anything.”

Analiese was impressed at how devoted Harmony was, but she realized the devotion might come at a price. Charlotte’s prognosis wasn’t good. What was this girl going to do if Charlotte died? She really couldn’t ask. Analiese wasn’t Harmony’s minister, and she didn’t want to inject a note of negativity into the conversation.

“I don’t think God exists to make people feel worse,” she said instead. “I think my job is to bring a message of hope and comfort.” She smiled to make sure that didn’t sound pompous. “If you ever need either, will you let me know?”

Harmony just smiled back.

Inside, Analiese called Charlotte’s name and searched until she found the den. Charlotte sat up, but not quickly, and pushed a wool afghan to the side.

“I’ve had better days. Thanks for asking,” she said.

Analiese pulled a chair closer, afraid if she sat on the sofa and jostled Charlotte, the nausea would be worse.

“I used to work the health beat on my first TV job, and I remember some tips on controlling nausea. One of them’s to stay hydrated. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I have a glass of water.” Charlotte waved her hand toward the table.

“Little snacks are best. I can find the kitchen.”

“Is there anything in the whole wide world you don’t know
something
about?”

“I don’t know how it feels to be you. How does it, about now?”

Charlotte leaned her head back, so she was staring at the ceiling. “I’m not ready for this again. Honestly, this is a walk in the park compared to what I went through at Duke, chemo-lite, but I got spoiled. I had some good weeks. I was hoping for more.”