She called back half an hour later. “He said to bring her in now. Can you do that?”
“Of course.” The doctor gave her the address, and she picked Bethanie up in her pajamas, put a coat over them, and settled her in the car, in her car seat. She left the house in less than ten minutes, and Coco called Leslie to say she wasn’t coming in.
They were at the doctor fifteen minutes later. Coco carried Bethanie inside and set her down gently in the waiting room. She was afraid of another blood draw, and Bethanie started to cry as soon as Coco set her down. A nurse distracted her with a balloon and a toy, and they waited to see the oncologist, who examined Bethanie, and looked at the tests the pediatrician had sent him. He met with Coco in his office, while the nurse played with Bethanie in the exam room, but all she wanted to do was lie down and clutch the blanket she had brought with her.
Coco looked at the doctor across his desk. “How bad is it?” Bethanie was the love of her life, and the only family she had. The doctor could see all of it in Coco’s eyes.
“It’s not good. I don’t like it. I never do. I’d like to get a spinal tap and a bone marrow biopsy. That should tell us the whole story. If it is leukemia, we have good results with children Bethanie’s age, depending on what kind it is.”
Coco felt sick as she listened, and he sent them directly to the hospital. Two hours later, both tests were administered with Bethanie under anesthesia. It was Coco’s worst nightmare come true. She called Ian at the house, and he was waiting for them when they got home, looking shell-shocked. He looked worse than Coco.
The oncologist called her back the next day, after the longest night of Coco’s life. She had acute myelogenous leukemia, AML, supposedly the easiest to cure, and she needed to start chemotherapy as soon as possible. “We caught it early,” he reassured her. “I’d like to get her started on chemo by the end of this week.” Coco couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her perfect little girl who laughed and played all the time had leukemia, and if they didn’t win the fight, she could die. She couldn’t bear the thought of it. She asked him a blunt question then.
“How good is treatment here? Should I take her back to the States?”
“You could,” he said, without taking offense. It was a reasonable question, since they had the option to do that, as Americans.
“They do great work with kids in Boston, and so does Sloan Kettering in New York. The French are very strong too, better than we are in some areas.”
“Can we wait till tomorrow to make a decision?” she asked him, and he nodded. “I’d like to call some people in New York. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”
“You have some time. We can’t drag our feet, but you certainly have the time to explore your options. Call me anytime.” He gave her his cellphone number, and she thanked him and hung up. Her head was spinning, Ian was at the gym, and she called Sam as soon as she hung up. She sounded terrible when he answered. Her voice was shaking and she sounded sick.
“What’s wrong?” He was still her go-to person for every disaster that happened to her. She closed her office door before she answered him, and then started to cry at last.
“Bethanie has leukemia. They ran tests on her. I just got the results. She has something called AML. They said she needs chemo. Do you know any outstanding pediatric oncologists in New York?” She expected him to say he’d research it, and she knew he would. She didn’t expect the answer she got.
“Yes, I do. Don’t do anything until I talk to him. What’s your doctor’s name?” She gave him the name of the oncologist so Sam could check him out. “I have a client, I do his taxes. He’s supposedly the best in New York. I’ll find out if he can see you, or recommend a doctor to consult with your oncologist there. I’ll call you back as soon as I get him.” She waited in her office with her head in her hands. Sam called her back ten minutes later. “He said the guy you saw is very good, one of the best, but he’d prefer for you to bring her to New York for an evaluation. Then you can decide if you want to proceed with treatment in New York, or go back to London. Coco, I would put my children’s lives in this guy’s hands. I trust everything he says. He’s a star in his field.” That was good enough for her. “He can see you day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll fly in tomorrow,” she said, her mind going in a thousand directions at once.
“He wants you to email him the results of all the bloodwork they did, and the diagnosis. That way his team and he can consult on it before you get here.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll text you his email address and name. He’s not the warmest guy, just to warn you, but he’s the best there is.”
“I don’t care if he’s Frankenstein’s nephew, if he can cure her.” She started to cry again then. “Oh God, Sam, I don’t want her to die.”
Listening to her tore at his heart. “We won’t let that happen. The first thing he told me when I described it to him was that kids with AML do really well and often have full recovery, particularly at Bethanie’s age. Just hang in there. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me your flight number. I’ll pick you up.”
“You don’t have to do that. You can come to the apartment.”
“Fuck you,” he said, and she smiled. Same old Sam. Same old godsend in every crisis for her entire life. He even had the right doctor in his back pocket.
She called the pediatrician after that, brought her up to date and gave her Dr. Jeff Armstrong’s email address at Sloan Kettering so she could send him Bethanie’s test results digitally.
“I’ll handle it right away,” she promised. Coco called British Airways after that and got two business class seats for the next day. She wasn’t sure if she should take three, in case Ian wanted to go with them, but she could always call them back. She went to pack then, and was just finishing when Ian came home. He was hoping that everything had gone well, but he’d almost been afraid to come home and hear bad news. Coco had waited till he got home so she could tell him in person, not by text or on the phone.
“Did the doctor call you?” he asked, instantly worried when he saw Coco’s face. She gave him the rapid version.
“She’s got leukemia. They want to start her on chemo. I’m going to New York tomorrow with her. Sam has a client who’s a star pediatric oncologist at Sloan Kettering. He’ll see her day after tomorrow. I don’t know if we’ll do treatment here or there. Do you want to come with us?” He didn’t answer her at first, but sat down facing her. He was as pale as she was. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. It had hit him like a hand grenade.
“I’ll let you get settled first. Call me after you see him. I can come over later if you stay.” She nodded. It didn’t even seem strange to her that he wasn’t flying with them. Nothing did. Not after the news she’d had. Bethanie woke up crying then, and Coco went to comfort her.
They were leaving on a nine A.M. flight to New York the next day. She had texted the information to Sam. They were landing at noon New York time, and had to leave the house at six A.M. to get to the airport in time to check in. Coco was frantic all day, and Ian stayed in his office.
Bethanie went to sleep early, still feverish, and Coco nearly crawled into the kitchen while Ian cooked dinner, which he did almost every night when he was there. She knew he was due for another writing spell sometime soon, but she didn’t know when. He never warned her ahead of time or knew himself when he’d be ready to start. It just came to him and he left.
She could only eat a few mouthfuls for dinner. They were packed and she had put in all of Bethanie’s favorite toys, stuffed animals, and blankets, in case they stayed. All she took were jeans, sweaters, and running shoes for herself. She expected to be at the hospital for however long they were there.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said to Ian when she stopped trying to eat and put her fork down.
“Don’t give up,” he
said sternly. “She’s tougher than you think, and if this guy is any good, he’ll cure her.”
“They have a good success rate, but it’s not a hundred percent,” she reminded him. “Some kids don’t make it. And the chemo will make her very sick. She’ll lose her hair.” But as long as she didn’t lose her life, Coco could live with it. He looked as distraught as she did, and cleaned up the kitchen when she went upstairs to take a bath. He had said very little all day since she told him the news. He looked disoriented and distracted.
When he walked into her bathroom half an hour later, she knew something was wrong. She could see more bad news coming. From him this time.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and he shook his head and she could see that he was crying.
It took him a few minutes to compose himself. “There are things that you don’t know about me, that most people don’t need to know. But now you do. I told you that my father killed my mother. He was insane, a drunk, a drug addict. He’d been in and out of jail and mental hospitals. He killed my mother in a senseless rage. I had a little sister too. She was ten years younger than I was. She was seven. He killed her too, when he killed my mother. I was out and when I came home, I found them, all three of them. I never recovered from it. I never really loved anyone or got attached to anyone from that day on. Except you and Bethanie for the last four years. My sister is why I never wanted kids. I never wanted to be that close to anyone again, or love anyone that much. In a way he killed me too. What you see now, and have for the last four years, is what’s left. It’s what I could patch back together after he killed Weenie and my mother. Her name was Edwina. She called me Eeny.
“I found them after he did it,” he repeated, looking distraught. “I can’t even tell you what that was like.” The tears were pouring down his face, unchecked. She tried to reach a hand out to him but he wouldn’t let her. He couldn’t bear the tenderness of her touch, and the flood of memories too. “A piece of me died with them. A big piece, the biggest part of me. I’ve never been able to have a normal relationship since and still can’t. When I get too close, I run and disappear till I have distance again. That’s why I disappeared when you had the baby, but I fell in love with her anyway.
“I can’t be here for you now, Coco. I can’t do it. It would kill me. I’ve been closer to you than anyone in my life. But I’m not husband material, or father material. If anything happens to her, it will kill me. And now she’s sick. You’re a strong woman, stronger than I am. I’m just a shell, Coco. I’m not a man.” He was crying and she put her arms around him, still soaking wet from the bath, and she held him while he cried. “I want to go with you tomorrow, but I can’t. When you leave, I’m going to go far from here to be alone again. Don’t count on me. I can’t be there for either of you. I’m like a hologram, an image, an illusion, there is nothing left inside.”
“Yes, there is,” she said softly. “I understand when you disappear. I’m fine with it.”
“But you’re not fine now, and you won’t be, and neither will she until she survives this. I can’t, Coco, I just can’t,” he sobbed and they held each other in silence for a long time. He had bared his soul to her, and loved her enough to do so.
“I’m so sorry, Ian. I love you. I’m so sorry your father did this to you, and your mother, and your sister. We’re going to make it through this. They’ll just have to cure Bethanie.” She was being strong for him, as well as for her daughter and herself.
“You’ll make it through this. Please God you both will. But I can’t do it with you. When you leave tomorrow you have to let me go.” He was the Phantom of the Opera, hiding in the darkness, and he had let her see beneath the mask. “Let me go, Coco, if you love me. I don’t want to let you down,” but he already had. He wanted to be there for her and Bethanie, but he knew he couldn’t. He was being honest with her, more than he ever had been in his life.
They lay together all that night and never slept. She was wide awake, as he lay with her, stroking her face and her body, as though to be sure he would remember every inch of her. They didn’t make love, they couldn’t have, with what was happening to Bethanie. They just lay there loving each other, as Ian silently said goodbye. She wondered if she would ever see him again, and didn’t think so. She was fighting not to lose Bethanie, and she was losing him at the same time, and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him. She had to focus on Bethanie first and give her every ounce of her strength. She didn’t have enough for him too and he knew it. He had none for her.
He watched her leave the next day for the airport in a cab. He held her tight for a minute, and hugged Bethanie.
“You take care of your mama for me, right, Miss Beth?”
“Yes, Mr. Ian,” she said in a weak voice and smiled at him, as he steeled himself not to cry in front of her. His eyes met Coco’s for a long moment. He kissed her through the cab window, as she felt four years vanish in the mist. And then the cab pulled away and he stood there without moving. Then he went inside to pack his bags. It was time to hit the road again. For Ian, it was done. And for Coco and Bethanie, the fight had just begun.
Chapter 16
Sam met them at the airport in New York. He looked serious, but broke into a smile when he picked Bethanie up in his arms.
“Hiya, Uncle Sam. Where’s Nathan?” She smiled at him. She and his oldest son were friends on FaceTime, and the same age.
“He’s at school, where you should be. What are you doing in New York?” Coco had brought a stroller for her in case she felt too sick to walk or was tired, and Sam set her gently in it, and pushed her after they came out of customs.
“I’m here because I’m sick. They’re going to make me better.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” He exchanged a glance with Coco, who looked exhausted and tense, but was putting a good face on it when he kissed her. He didn’t ask her how she was. He could see it. She looked as though the world had come to an end.
The porter followed them with their bags. Sam had brought a car and driver so he didn’t have to park in the garage. He wanted to make everything as easy as possible for them. The driver picked them up quickly, and the porter loaded the bags into the car. Then they headed to the city. Sam came to the apartment with them. Theresa was waiting and took Bethanie to the kitchen to get something to eat. Coco hadn’t been to New York since her last visit with Ian six months before. Theresa still took care of the apartment that Coco couldn’t seem to let go of, as though she expected her parents to be there if she came home. But they weren’t. Things were looking faded and tired, although Theresa kept the shades closed when no one was there, which was all the time.
“How is she?” Sam asked her quietly, as they sat down in the den. Theresa had put fresh flowers around the apartment for them. They reminded her of her mother, who used to have flowers everywhere.
“She’s tired. Sick. I can’t wait to see the doctor tomorrow. I keep hoping they made a mistake, but I know they didn’t.”
“I’ll go with you,” Sam said quietly. “The appointment is at ten o’clock. Tamar said to tell you how sorry she is.” She had given birth to their fourth child, a son they had named David, a few weeks before. She’d had a caesarean section the last two times, and it had worn her out. “She says she’s done, but I don’t believe her. Four is a nice number, it works for me.” She knew what a devoted father he was. He helped Tamar with the kids as soon as he came home from work and on the weekends. But he couldn’t nurse them or give birth to them. “How’s Ian?” He was used to his being part of the furniture of her life, on an erratic basis, but they had been together for a long time. She hesitated when he asked and Sam looked at her strangely.
“Something wrong?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She was too shell-shocked and shaken up to react to it. The full impact hadn’t hit her yet, but she knew it would later, when she was alone. “He left today.”
>
“For where? Another book?”
“No, according to him, for good. He couldn’t deal with Bethanie being sick.”
“Are you serious?” Sam looked stunned. “Tell me he didn’t mean it.”
“I think he did,” she said quietly. “You were right a long time ago, he’s badly damaged. Some pretty awful stuff happened to him when he was young. I knew some of it, but not all until last night.”
“So awful that he can’t stick by you?” Sam couldn’t imagine it and didn’t want to, and what it must have done to her, to have brought her daughter with leukemia to New York, and have her man walk out on her. He was furious thinking about it.
“He can’t do it, Sam. His father murdered his mother when he was seventeen. And his seven-year-old sister, and then killed himself. Ian found them. He says he hasn’t been a whole person since. He says he can’t love anyone, but he loves us and I know it. The thought that Bethanie could die is too much for him. He said he was leaving me. He was packing when we left. He’s a broken man. And right now I have to worry about Bethanie. I can’t take care of him too. Maybe he was right to go. I didn’t want him to, but I can’t fix what they did to him. When he feels too much, he runs.”
“Oh my God, Coco. What else?”
“This is enough. It’s just about Bethanie right now. I’ll worry about me later. And Ian, if he comes back. But I don’t think he will.” She felt as though he had died, and a part of her with him, but he had died a long time ago. He was just a shell with a beating heart that was still bleeding twenty-eight years later. Right now she needed every ounce of her energy for her daughter. “Everything okay with you?”
“We’re fine. I think Tamar is depressed this time. She’s been very quiet since the delivery. It happened last time too.” He knew more about childbirth and the aftermath than most men.
“I never had that, but I’m a one-time mom, so what do I know?”
All That Glitters Page 20
