“No.” Cassie’s hands went to her hips, and she let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know Pearl. She’s that nurse, or whatever she was, who was in Devon’s room at the care center all those months ago, the night I ate dinner with you at the hospital cafeteria.”
“Ah.” Matt nodded, though he still didn’t understand. “And you wanted to catch her just now to tell her off?”
“No.” Cassie frowned at him. “I’m not carrying a grudge or anything. I just want to know who she is and what she was doing here, watching us and nodding and smiling. What was that all about?”
Cassie turned a slow circle, craning her neck to see over the crowd. Her face seemed flushed with anger or possibly a fever, either of which caused him concern.
Matt stopped her on her second revolution. He placed his palm against Cassie’s forehead. “You feel the right temperature, but you seem a bit overheated.” Overwhelmed? Something. “Let’s get you a cold water bottle.”
“I’m fine,” Cassie insisted. “Just confused. I swear it was her.”
“Maybe it was.” Matt shrugged.
“Dad, can you read this to me?” Asher waved the slip of paper from his cookie in Matt’s face.
“Sure.” Anything to distract Cassie from wigging out, but she’d left the sidewalk and was walking dangerously close to the slow-moving traffic on the narrow street, attempting to get a good look at the passengers in each vehicle.
“Cassie!” Matt stepped off the curb and grabbed her arm, snatching her out of the path of a passing Moped. “Don’t make this day about the anniversary of your death, okay?” His eyes searched hers, and he watched as the clouded over look was replaced with a return to realization.
“Noah—”
“Is right there, and he’s fine.” Holding her hand, Matt led her over to the boys.
“Will you read my fortune now?” Asher asked.
Matt opened it with his free hand, revealing the slip of paper, and read, “Change can hurt, but it leads a path to something better.”
“Like moving here,” Austin said, surprising him.
“Exactly,” Matt said.
Austin and Noah held their papers out to him as well.
“The words are too big,” Austin complained.
“No problem.” Assured that Cassie was returning to herself now, Matt let go of her hand and crouched in front of the boys. He took Austin’s fortune and unfolded it. “Serious trouble will pass you by.” Matt laughed. “I have my doubts about that one.”
“What does it mean?” Austin asked.
“That you won’t get into any trouble.” Cassie ruffled the top of Austin’s head, the same way she did Noah’s frequently. “At least for today.”
“Does that mean I can do whatever I want, and I won’t get punished?”
“No,” Matt said, putting an end to the glint of hopeful scheming that had appeared in Austin’s eyes.
“Read mine now,” Noah said.
Cassie took his paper. “Your dearest wish will come true.”
“No fair. Yours is better,” Austin said.
“Any wish?” Noah asked, looking up at Cassie and then Matt.
“Maybe,” Cassie said, “but I wouldn’t put too much faith in these fortunes. Mostly, people make their own fortunes by working hard for what they want.”
“I want to get back to our car in time for the next activity,” Matt said as he noted the time on his phone. 4:09. A year ago, he was flying home.
“There’s another activity?” Cassie sounded genuinely surprised. “You have something else planned?”
Matt gestured to the boys to come away from the window. “You did agree to spending the day with us, so of course I had to pack as much as possible into twenty-four hours— or about sixteen, anyway. I’ll try to have you and Noah home by midnight.” He kept his tone light and hoped she wouldn’t be upset. Tonight’s activity was what he’d had planned first but then realized the whole day would be tough if he didn’t fill it with distractions in the form of new experiences and memories.
“By twelve would be good,” Cassie said, “because at midnight, Noah turns into a pumpkin and I turn into a serving girl with really messy hair.”
“Mo-om.” Noah tugged on her hand.
“A pumpkin. Good one.” Asher laughed.
Cassie laughed with him, and Matt felt vast relief that whatever weirdness had just happened with her seemed to have passed.
“This way,” she said, taking Noah’s hand. “We’ll catch the California Street car and end up a few blocks from the ferry.”
On the ride back across the bay, all three boys fell asleep. Matt could have dozed, too, but he didn’t want to miss even one minute of this day with Cassie.
“Fortune cookie?” he asked, holding the bag out to her. She reached inside, pulled one out, then broke it in half.
“You already know the answer to the question lingering inside your head.” She leaned forward, chin in her hand, as she thought. “Nope. I have no clue where you’re taking us next.” She looked up at Matt. “Your turn.”
He pulled a cookie out, broke it open, and extracted the paper. “Try? No! Do or do not. There is no try.” He frowned then read the paper to himself once more. “What a total Star Wars rip off. Yoda says that.”
“Maybe he has Chinese ancestry,” Cassie suggested. “One more.” She held out her hand, and he placed a cookie in it.
“Now these three remain. Faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love.” She refolded the little paper. “That one’s not exactly a fortune.”
“Isn’t it?” Matt arched his brow. Cassie had faith and hope in her life, and he wanted to give her love. The greatest of these is love. Was his love for her stronger or more important than her faith and hope that Devon would get well?
Matt cracked open another cookie. “It is now, and in this world, that we must live.” That’s more like it. He ought to save these for his mom. Maybe he could get her to replace some of her harsher sayings with thoughts like these to inspire.
Cassie grabbed two more cookies from the bag and opened each. “The greatest risk is not taking one.” She unfolded the second paper. “You cannot love life until you live the life you love.”
“Good stuff,” Matt said, liking these fortunes more and more.
“Finish the bag,” Cassie said, sounding irritated.
“Of course.” Matt still hadn’t eaten his last cookie, but he broke open the last three, letting the pieces fall into the bag while he kept out the slips of paper.
“Joys are often the shadows cast by sorrow.”
“That one’s pretty good,” Cassie conceded.
“And true.” Wasn’t this day, which had been pretty awesome, a shadow of the sorrow of the past year? He opened the next paper.
“Accept your past without regrets. Handle your present with confidence. Face your future without fear.”
Cassie pointed at him. “Now there’s a perfect fortune for you.”
“Right back at you.” Matt handed her the last paper after reading it to himself.
“Welcome the change coming into your life,” she read.
He looked at her and shrugged. “Just silly nonsense, right?”
“Right.” Cassie leaned forward and dropped the slips of paper into the bag, then stared out at the Golden Gate, leaving Matt to wonder if it was the past, present, future, or the possibility of change that swirled most in her mind.
He checked his watch again. 5:16. A year ago, his plane had landed, and he’d called the hospital to check on Jenna’s condition, the phone call that had changed his life.
I’m sorry, Jenna, so sorry I wasn’t there that day and so many others.
Matt adjusted Austin’s legs so they weren’t falling off the seat, then pulled Asher onto his lap and held him close. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by his children as he had those first several months after Jenna’s death, he felt overwhelmed with love for them. He pressed a kiss to the top of Asher’s head.
> “You’re doing it.”
Matt looked up to find Cassie watching him, her expression tender.
“You’re leaving regrets from your past behind, handling your present with confidence, and facing your future without fear.”
“I still have fears,” Matt said, thinking of the one that concerned him the most— a future that didn’t include Cassie and Noah.
Cassie studied the three boys seated— or at least, with seats— between her and Matt. Currently those chairs were going unused as Noah, Austin, and Asher were on their feet again, jumping up and down, waving the giant foam hands Matt had purchased for them, and shouting at the top of their lungs.
Apparently napping on the ferry and the pizza they’d eaten for dinner really reenergized them. Or maybe it was just the sport and the excitement of being in the big arena. Whatever the case, Cassie was sure this was a night Noah would never forget. Their seats weren’t quite courtside but were a few rows up— still an excellent view of the Kings’ bench and all the players running up and down the court.
Her gaze left the boys and traveled to Matt, and she was surprised to find him watching her instead of the game.
“Are you having a good time?” He pointed at his watch. “Do we need to go?”
She shook her head. No way she was about to spoil the boys’ fun. “I’m having a great time.”
“Mom, look!” Noah grabbed her arm. “We’re on TV.”
Cassie raised her head, following his outstretched hand to the jumbotron, then gasped at the larger than life picture of the five of them. She turned to Matt and found him grinning.
“We’re looking pretty good for as long a day as it’s been.”
“Speak for yourself.” She resisted the urge to touch her windblown, hat-smashed hair.
“In the crowd tonight, we welcome former NBA commentator Matthew Kramer and his family.” The announcer had recognized Matt but obviously mistaken Cassie for his wife. There was nothing to do but smile awkwardly and glance at the screen once more to see if the camera had moved onto some other unsuspecting person in the crowd.
“You do make a lovely family.”
That voice. On the screen, Cassie saw the speaker, a petite Asian woman, seated two rows behind them. Pearl! Cassie turned in her seat to confront the woman but saw only the knees of the same row of fans— four men who had to be brothers, or at least related to one another— who had been alternately seated and standing there all night. Cassie jumped to her feet then up on her chair, attempting to peer between them to the row behind. No Pearl. Cassie looked to the jumbotron again, but the picture was on someone else.
She stepped off her seat and then sat down on the hard plastic and gripped the arms of her chair. I am not losing my mind. I’m not. But that was twice today that she thought she’d seen the woman from the care center. Why?
Matt faced Cassie at the doorway to her apartment after helping her put Noah in bed. “Thank you for today.”
“I wish it wasn’t over,” Cassie said. “I mean, I’m glad it is for you and that you made it through such a hard day, but—”
“It wasn’t hard,” Matt said. “I’m sorry it’s over, too.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, to say next. If they were a normal couple in a relationship that was progressing, they’d probably be easing closer to one another, each wondering what the other would think of a goodnight kiss, but there was nothing normal about her relationship with Matt, and a kiss was out of the question. She’d already crossed the line today, kissing him on the cheek as she had. But he’d needed it. Cassie wasn’t sure how she’d known, but she’d had an impression she couldn’t ignore, and that moment had been all about Matt and making him feel good about himself and life.
“So. ” Her weary sigh seemed to say it all. She was tired of being alone, of the guilt, of not being able to have the life she wanted. “I’ll plan to pick Asher up from preschool on Tuesday as usual,” Cassie said when the silence had lengthened to awkward proportions.
“I appreciate that.” Matt took a slight step back. “The boys always look forward to coming to your place or your mom’s. They like being with you.”
“Noah loves being with you, too,” Cassie said. It was a gross understatement. She was pretty sure that, given the opportunity, Noah would choose to move in with Matt and his boys over living with her.
“Cassie, is there any way—”
“No.” She held up a hand, palm out, praying he wouldn’t ask her to see him again or to resume the friendship they’d had last fall. Today had proven just how easy it would be to pick up where they’d left off and to move swiftly from there. “I can’t, Matt. It’s too hard. I’m married. Devon is my husband. Anything more than helping each other out with our boys is wrong.” Thinking about how much she’d enjoyed the day with Matt while Devon lay in his bed at the care center brought a fresh dose of remorse. “Good night.” She reached behind her for the doorknob.
“Night, Cassie. Thank you again.” The sorrow in Matt’s voice almost broke her. He took another step back so he was outside her apartment, then turned to go.
“Matt, wait.” Stupid. What am I doing? She held her conscience off a few seconds longer and stepped into his arms, wrapping hers around him in a hug. He returned the gesture at once, enfolding her, one hand on her back, the other at her waist, and leaning forward so that his face was close to hers.
They said nothing, just held each other. It felt so good, Cassie never wanted to let go. She feared she wouldn’t be able to. It had been so long since she’d felt this kind of comfort and support. Hugs from her mom were great, but being held by a man who was her friend and understood and cared was completely different. Completely better.
She soaked in his warmth and breathed in the scent that was only Matt and which she now associated with Oregon. His hand moved slowly up and down her back, and Cassie thought she might melt from the simple touch. She was lonely, and he was, too. She loved him. Maybe he even felt the same about her, and if he did, she might break his heart, and it had already been broken with Jenna’s death.
Cassie pulled away and stepped back, shaking her head and wiping tears simultaneously. “I’m sorry.” She shut the door without looking at his face, knowing she couldn’t bear to see his sorrow. Feeling hers was too much already. She turned the lock, then slid down the wall to the floor with her knees to her chest, her face in her hands, and wept.
Cassie’s fingers drummed nervously on the folder in her lap as she waited for Dr. Hammond. She’d been to UC Davis before during the first months after Devon was shot and then again the following year. Dr. Hammond had been kind, though not particularly encouraging. She was here to ask again today if he would once again plead her case before the insurance company responsible for Devon’s medical care. In addition to his help, she was also seeking the professional recommendation of a Dr. Kyle at UCSF.
Their recommendations were just the beginning. She wasn’t going to back down this time. Devon was going to have an MRI. He was going to start taking Amantidine and Zolpidem if she had to give them to him herself. She also wanted him to be considered for a clinical trial of deep brain stimulation. She had the data from the last trial, and while the results weren’t miraculous— no one progressed from PVS back to fully functioning that fast, if at all— they were promising. Part of Devon is better than no Devon.
“Mrs. Webb, it’s good to see you again.” Dr. Hammond held his hand out as he entered the office.
Cassie shook it. “I wish I could say the same,” she said with a grim smile, “but I am grateful to you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me.”
“What can I help you with?” Dr. Hammond asked, not denying that his schedule was full and she’d taken him away from it. He continued around the desk and seated himself in the leather chair behind it.
“I don’t know if you remember my husband.” Cassie took Devon’s file from her lap and placed it on the desk.
Dr. Hammond placed his fi
nger on top of the folder but didn’t open it. “Sacramento PD, shot in the head, near the base of his skull with the bullet traveling upward, while on duty. Substantial brain trauma with Diffuse axonal injury, resulting in a coma that lasted seven weeks then transitioned to a vegetative state. What was it, four or five years ago now?” If he’d hoped to impress her rattling off the facts so coldly, like Devon was some piece of paper with bullet points, he failed.
“Six years, seven months, and three days,” Cassie corrected him. “Devon is still in a care center in Auburn, still in a persistent vegetative state.”
“No change at all?”
“Not outwardly,” Cassie said, “but it’s impossible to be definitive since he’s never had another MRI since the initial incident and his stay in the hospital.”
“And you would like me to write a letter to your insurance company, arguing that they pay for one.” Dr. Hammond frowned as he leaned back in his chair.
“Yes.” Cassie forged ahead. “I am also here to request that you write a letter of recommendation for Devon to be a candidate in an upcoming clinical trial for deep brain stimulation. In addition, I would like Devon to start taking both Amantidine and Zolpidem, which have each been found to—”
“I know what both drugs have done for PVS patients, Mrs. Webb. That is my field of expertise, as evidenced by your continued requests for my opinion.”
Continued? She hadn’t seen him for five years. Cassie bit her tongue and clenched her hands in her lap instead of snatching the folder and marching out of there like she wanted to.
“Yes,” she said with forced politeness. “You are the expert. Your opinion carries weight with both insurance companies and other medical institutions, and I would greatly appreciate your help. I want my husband back, and my son needs his father. The state and our insurance carrier care little about either.”
“You realize that even if Devon were to be allowed as a candidate for this trial, your chances of getting your husband back as you knew him and of your son having a father who can throw him a baseball or take him on a campout are virtually nonexistent.”
Between Heaven and Earth Page 28
