A Walk Along the Beach

by Debbie Macomber

  She heaved in a huge breath as if rising from the water after holding it in as long as she could manage. “I didn’t make it.”

  “Didn’t make what?”

  “To Camp Muir,” she snapped, as if that was obvious.

  That made no sense. She’d been ready to tackle that mountain. Not once did I consider that she wouldn’t reach past the tree line.

  “I couldn’t make it even halfway up.”

  “What?” I found that hard to believe. “That’s not possible. You’re in terrific shape.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against her bent knees. “The only other person who couldn’t make the climb was a fat disc jockey. I don’t think he’s done a day of exercise in his entire life.”

  This probably wasn’t the time to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. The mere idea that Harper hadn’t been able to outdo an overweight disc jockey was beyond the scope of my imagination. It didn’t add up.

  “The guide said this sort of thing happens now and again. People who’ve trained all summer choke up. I feel like I let down John and everyone else, myself included.”

  Harper didn’t choke. She tackled life with the same intensity that she’d used to take on every challenge.

  “How far were you able to go?”

  She buried her face again. “Obviously not far enough. It was humiliating. I was huffing and puffing like I’d been smoking a pack of cigarettes a day for the last forty years.”

  If she hadn’t been able to make the climb, I was afraid it was something physical that had stopped her. With her medical history, this was nothing to mess with. “I’m going to make an appointment with Dr. Annie.”

  “No,” she practically shouted. “Don’t you dare. Stop. Just stop. Why do you think I didn’t tell you right away? I knew this was exactly what you’d do, and it’s the last thing I want.”

  “Harper…”

  “The air was thin; others had trouble, too.”

  But the others had been able to make the climb, despite the altitude. She must have read the doubt in my eyes because she blasted me with “There’s nothing wrong with me. You do this every time. How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want you hounding me about my health?” Her eyes blazed with anger.

  I raised both hands like she’d pointed a gun at me. “Okay.”

  “I choked,” she said, calmer now. “It happens,” she insisted. “You make it sound like I’m going to fall over dead any minute.”

  I narrowed my eyes and let that comment pass. “You aren’t having any trouble breathing while teaching your yoga and fitness classes, are you?”

  “None.” Again, she was vehement.

  Rubbing my hand across the back of my neck, I debated how much I should or shouldn’t say. One thing was certain: Harper didn’t want me making more of this than she felt was warranted.

  “I know you’re disappointed.”

  “That’s not the half of it. I’ve been working toward this climb for months. I thought I was ready. Everyone else in my training group will make it to the summit next week and I won’t be with them.” Her voice wobbled, and I could tell she was close to tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Harper. I know how much this meant to you. Maybe next year?”

  “Maybe,” she muttered, and lowered her forehead to her knees. After a moment, she brought the blanket over herself again.

  I didn’t have any other words of comfort. In her present mood, I doubted she wanted to hear them, anyway.

  * * *

  —

  Harper’s dark mood continued for the remainder of the week. She was a bear to live with. I did my best to ignore her melancholy state and go about my own business, pretending all was well. Not once did she show up at the coffee shop between her classes for her special drink. Obviously, she was doing everything possible to avoid me. With no other choice, I let her.

  Her friends from the training group who made the entire climb up Mount Rainier invited Harper to the victory party. It surprised me when she decided to attend. I should have known she would. Although she was bitterly disappointed, Harper put on a bright smile and celebrated with her friends, going out of her way to congratulate them.

  Finding an apartment within her and Leesa’s budget was proving to be more difficult than either of them had imagined. Every afternoon for the next week, the two girls went out on the great apartment search, finally seeing one that they could easily swing, rent-wise.

  “How was it?” I asked.

  Harper groaned. “The entire building should be condemned.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sinking onto the sofa, Harper let out a discouraged sigh. “I never dreamed it would be this difficult.”

  I sympathized, but there wasn’t anything I could do. Leesa lived with her parents, and I knew she was desperate to get out on her own as much as Harper was.

  In the middle of Harper’s angst, Sean was busy getting ready to travel to the Philippines. Not knowing how long he would be out of the country, I made a point of seeing him every day. He worked ridiculously long hours, sorting through all the photos from his trip to Bolivia and getting them ready to submit for publication. For these two trips to land almost on top of each other had stretched him to the limit. His ordeal with typhoid had set him back two weeks, and he worked every spare moment to make up for the time he’d lost.

  With Harper out of sorts and Sean still recovering and working all hours of the day and night, I felt like the peanut butter between two slices of bread. Both seemed to need me. Harper would rather bite off her arm than admit it. I know she was disappointed with missing out on the mountain-climbing adventure. Her struggles to find a decent apartment depressed her further. She felt off in other ways, too, and I found myself stressing about her health. I didn’t dare mention it. Far be it for me to let her know I was worried!

  Bandit seemed to know Sean was about to leave. He moped around the house and lost his appetite. I wasn’t in much better shape myself. The closer the day came to when Sean was scheduled to go, the lower my spirits were sinking. I tried to hide how I felt, but Sean easily saw through me.

  Two weeks after he announced he’d gotten the assignment, we dropped Bandit off with Logan to dog-sit until Sean returned. Then I drove him into Seattle to catch his flight. My chest felt like there was a huge knot in it as we drove, increasing in size the closer we got.

  After we parked, he’d checked in his luggage, carrying with him as much of his camera gear as the airlines would allow. His equipment was expensive. It went without saying that his biggest fear was that the airlines would lose it.

  We sat outside of security and had coffee, neither one of us speaking.

  “You’ll let me know when you arrive?” I asked, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going to miss you.”

  He reached across the table and wove our fingers together. “I’ll miss you more.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll be busy taking pictures and will barely have time to give me a thought.”

  He snorted as if that was impossible. “Wrong.”

  I so badly wanted to believe him.

  “Besides, you’ll be busy preparing for Lucas and Chantelle’s wedding.”

  Chantelle and Lucas had come to visit the weekend before. Harper and I had been fitted for our bridesmaid’s gowns, both of which were stunning. Then they’d done their own taste test and couldn’t agree on which cake they liked best. The issue was settled when I agreed to bake two cakes. One lemon and one Funfetti. I had no idea my brother detested coconut. According to him, he’d rather eat earwax than coconut.

  When we couldn’t delay Sean’s departure any longer, I walked him to the security line.<
br />
  “The weeks will fly by,” he promised, turning me into his arms.

  I rested my head against his shoulder. “Yeah, right.” I hugged him so hard I was afraid I might have injured his ribs. He kissed me and then reluctantly released me. I remained where I was until he cleared security.

  Waving at me, he walked backward, then turned and raced toward his gate, knowing he would probably be the last passenger to board the plane.

  The drive home seemed to take forever. I didn’t know how Seattle commuters could deal with this traffic. My heart felt heavy in my chest and didn’t ease as I neared home. Sean had left me with a key to his house and asked if I would collect his mail and water his plants.

  Instead of going back to the apartment, I stopped off at his place to make sure everything was as it should be. Sean was part of my life now, and I didn’t know how I would manage without him. I hated that he never seemed to take assignments that were close to home—well, other than the mural one over in eastern Washington. I didn’t know why it was necessary for him to travel to developing countries for a story.

  If I loved Sean, I knew I would need to accept that this was his life, part and parcel of this man who had come to mean so much to me. This was what he loved. I couldn’t ask him to change any more than he would make that request of me.

  The apartment was dark when I returned well past the dinner hour. I wasn’t hungry and hadn’t stopped to eat. To my surprise, Harper sat in the dark in the living room, Snowball on her lap.

  “Hey, do you want me to turn on the lights?” I asked.

  “No.”

  Something was drastically wrong. I heard it in the lone word. Fear. Anxiety. Doubt.

  I sat down next to her. “Harper,” I said, and reached for her hand.

  Her fingers grabbed hold of mine in a punishing grip.

  “What is it?” I asked gently.

  “I have a rash.”

  I swallowed hard, remembering that before she’d been diagnosed with leukemia, it had started out with hives. I was about to explain it all away, assure her that she was fine. The blood work had come back negative. There wasn’t anything to worry about. The words never made it to my lips.

  “My chest hurts, too.”

  Now it was my fingers that crushed hers.

  “I made an appointment with Dr. Annie. Will you come with me?”

  I couldn’t respond verbally, couldn’t get any words out from the anxiety that clogged my throat. That was like me, though. My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario.

  “I’m sure there’s a simple explanation,” I insisted, determined to be positive. What made my heart nearly stop was the fear I sensed in Harper. Determined not to jump to conclusions, I forced myself to think positively. A rash. A little trouble breathing. Just how bad could it be?

  CHAPTER 19

  Willa

  Harper and I sat in the waiting room of Oceanside Walk-in Medical Clinic for our turn to see Dr. Annie. Mindlessly, I flipped through the pages of a six-month-old People magazine. Many of the names and faces were unknown to me Their affairs, marriages, and divorces held no real interest. Harper had her legs crossed and was nervously swinging her foot back and forth. This morning she seemed to be more positive. I didn’t think it was a front.

  Within ten minutes of our arrival, Harper’s name was called. We were directed into the small room. The nursing assistant took Harper’s vitals. Becca was someone Harper had gone to high school with, although she was a year younger. The two women chatted.

  “You’re engaged?” Harper commented, noticing Becca’s diamond engagement ring.

  Becca blushed and nodded. “Alex Freeman.”

  “Alex?” Harper sounded surprised. The name meant nothing to me.

  “I know, I know. He was such a nerd in high school. I hardly knew he was alive. We stumbled into each other on the WSU campus. He’s a nuclear scientist now. Anyway, it was good to see a familiar face; he asked me to coffee and, as they say, the rest is history.”

  Harper’s smile was genuine. “That’s great. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Becca finished taking Harper’s vitals, and after writing down the details, she left the room.

  “Wow,” Harper said, “I can’t believe Alex and Becca are engaged. He was such a nerd and she, if you remember, was the yearbook editor and class president. I would never have seen the two of them together.”

  My memories of high school were vague at best. My main concern at the time was holding our family together. “Mom always said to forget the sports heroes and take more notice of the nerds instead. She claimed they were the ones who were destined to make something of themselves.”

  “Good advice,” Harper murmured, just as the door opened and Dr. Annie entered the room.

  Reading over the chart, she sat on the stool before looking up and giving us both a big smile. “Well, Harper, what seems to be the problem?”

  “For starters, I’ve got a rash again.”

  “I’ve seen my fair share of those this summer,” she said, crossing her legs and relaxing. “The heat, the sand, the moisture. Better let me look at it.”

  Harper unfastened her blouse so Annie could examine her side. From what I could see the rash was minor, just a little red, but probably annoying. Remembering that her first diagnosis of leukemia had started with hives, I was convinced we were overreacting. It was a summer rash. Big deal, right?

  “This looks like a heat rash, nothing serious,” Annie said, confirming my suspicion. The stress eased from between my shoulder blades. Harper seemed to relax, too, as we both released the tension we’d held on to for the last several hours.

  “You mentioned some chest pain?” Annie asked, looking down at the notes Becca had taken.

  Harper nodded.

  “When did that start?”

  My sister glanced at me and then away. It was the same look she’d had when she was younger and knew she’d done something wrong. “A few weeks ago.”

  Last night was the first time she’d mentioned anything about a tightness in her chest. “Harper,” I said, my mind whirling. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was the reason she hadn’t been able to make the climb to Camp Muir on Mount Rainier. “Was that the problem with the climb?”

  Harper shrugged. “My chest barely hurt then, but it does now.”

  “Let me take a listen,” Annie said, and placed the stethoscope against Harper’s chest.

  My heart raced as Annie instructed Harper to breathe in deeply and then release, repeating the request twice more. Then she reached for the digital chart and scrolled up, read something, and her face relaxed. “Good report on your latest blood work. That’s great.”

  Both Harper and I waited for her thoughts, almost leaning forward at the same time, eager for the diagnosis.

  “I think what we’re dealing with here is walking pneumonia,” Annie said. “I’d like to order an X-ray. You can have it taken right down the hall.”

  My relief was instantaneous. Walking pneumonia made perfect sense. My mind had automatically gone down dark alleys with monsters lurking behind every door, ready to pounce and take my sister from me.

  Annie wrote out a slip, handed it to Harper, and directed us to the diagnostic imaging unit across the hall from the clinic. No appointment was necessary, so Harper went up to the desk and handed the receptionist the paper Dr. Annie had given her.

  “You can head home if you want,” Harper said to me. She looked greatly relieved. It all sort of added up. Harper hadn’t been herself for a while now, moping around, depressed. It seemed as if everything she’d planned and worked for had fallen through. Nothing felt right with her, and it hadn’t in some time. While she hadn’t said anything to me, she’d been worried. Afraid. She’d refused to deal with this, held back by fear, choosing to hope it would all go away on its own. On
ly now that the pain in her chest had worsened did she take the necessary steps to face the future.

  I should have known. Should have paid more attention, especially lately. I’d been doing my best to play by Harper’s rules and be the sister she wanted instead of mothering her. In the process I’d pushed my concerns aside and concentrated more on how much I missed Sean.

  “I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.” Most likely Dr. Annie was right about the diagnosis, but it made me feel good that Harper still wanted me by her side.

  After a few minutes, Harper was taken back for the X-ray. While I waited, I reached for my phone, eager to see if I’d heard from Sean. A text message from him came up right away.

  Arrived. Miserably hot and tired. Missing you.

  I read his few words and placed my hand over my heart. I missed him, too. How quickly he’d become an important part of my life.

  For several minutes I considered how best to reply. I wanted to tell him that Harper was at the doctor’s getting an X-ray, but feared that would alarm him unnecessarily.

  Miss you, too. Be safe.

  His reply came quickly.

  Always.

  It didn’t take long for Harper to reappear. We were instructed to return to Dr. Annie’s office, where once again we sat in the clinic’s waiting room. Harper smiled and I realized how long it’d been since I’d seen my sister genuinely happy. A while. It hurt that she hadn’t felt free to share her concerns with me. I wondered if she’d shared any of this with John, and hoped that she had.

  The waiting room was empty, and we sat for several minutes, discussing what we wanted for dinner. My sister suggested vegetarian pizza, but I was more in the mood for Chinese takeout. Neither of which was especially great, health-wise, something we wouldn’t normally consider. This was to be a celebration. Dr. Annie would write out a prescription and we’d return home, our minds free from worry.

  Finally, Becca called us back into the same exam room where we’d been sequestered earlier. Dr. Annie followed directly behind her. She had her laptop with her, and she wasn’t smiling as she looked over the X-ray. I could see there would be no pizza or chicken chow mein tonight.