The Heart Between Us

by Lindsay Harrel

  “Thank you.”

  “But I can’t help but feel that lately it’s become less about that passion and more about . . . I don’t know, achievement.”

  The comment stung. It was definitely true she’d become more focused on becoming senior architect lately, but it was natural for a person to want to progress in her career if she was passionate about it.

  “Anyway, I know the presentation at work didn’t go the way you’d planned, but I’m glad it’s over. It’s been stealing all of your attention lately. I’m looking forward to having you home in the evenings and on the weekends I’m off.”

  And there came that splinter again—except this time it had made its way deep, jabbing her organs and puncturing her lungs. She had to tell him about the Lerner proposal. But how could she, when they’d finally found a moment of peace?

  “What’s wrong?” He pulled back and looked down into her eyes. “You stiffened.”

  “Nothing.” She’d tell him later, when the blow of her forgetting their anniversary had lessened.

  He cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her gently. “I just want a little balance in our lives, you know? And once I have a little more of your focus, we can finally talk about moving to the suburbs. Planning that trip to visit your parents and sister. Starting a family.”

  The look on his face was so earnest, she couldn’t watch him anymore. Moving to the suburbs wasn’t her favorite idea, but she could do it for him. And she couldn’t deny she’d been putting off a trip to see her parents and Megan for the last few years. She’d promised they could finally put a date on the calendar once the Hoffman presentation was over.

  And children. He wanted children so badly—he’d been in the foster system and never had a family of his own—and she wanted to give him the desire of his heart. But every time she thought about having kids . . .

  Now just wasn’t the right time. Someday she’d be ready.

  “I’ve got an idea.” He squeezed her knee. “I can see if one of the guys can take my shift this weekend. How about you take off Friday and we spend the weekend celebrating our anniversary upstate? Ben just told me about a romantic cabin he and Kelly rented.”

  He was an amazing husband, one she surely didn’t deserve. But there was no way she could ask off right now, not with Meredith breathing down her neck. “That sounds so lovely, really. But I can’t get off Friday. And I was hoping to get a jump on something Saturday since you were supposed to be working. Rain check?”

  Brian’s arms released her, and she suddenly wished she’d stayed silent. “But we agreed—”

  “Yes, but Tony just told me today about an amazing project that I have to work on.” The words burst from her lips before she could think a moment more about them. Crystal rushed on. “Remember the James Lawrence building I showed you when we first met?” She explained briefly the merits of the project. “It’s like this project was meant to fall into my lap.”

  Brian ran his hands through his hair and didn’t say a word.

  “Don’t tell me what you think or anything.” Her attempt at humor came out flat and sarcastic.

  Her husband shrugged his shoulders. “Frankly, I don’t know what to say. I thought you were going to take a break for a while.”

  “It’s not like I can stop working altogether.” Bereft of his touch, Crystal shoved her hands underneath her legs and squished them until her fingertips grew numb.

  “But you said you’d set boundaries. That you’d take time for other things in your life. You always claim busyness, but there will never be a perfect time to start a family.”

  “There will be better times than this.” Crystal licked her lips. “My chance at senior architect is riding on this—”

  “And there it is.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She pulled her hands from under her legs. They tingled, numb, asleep.

  “That’s all that seems to matter to you anymore.”

  “That’s not true. I—”

  The thought was interrupted by blinking red lights surrounding the ceiling. A call for paramedics to report to Engine Thirty-Five sounded over the intercom. Brian hopped to his feet. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “But—”

  “Somebody needs me more than you do right now. Though I’m starting to doubt whether you need me at all.”

  Then without so much as a hug, he was racing down the hallway, leaving Crystal’s heart as numb as her fingertips had been moments before.

  Chapter 5

  She’d put it off long enough. Megan had to tell her parents about her decision.

  She sat quietly at the lunch table on Friday afternoon, shoving small bites of pot roast and potatoes into her mouth. Mom and Dad chatted about Dad’s week at work. Since he and Megan both only worked half days on Fridays, they often ate lunch together. Mom had set the table with a purple tablecloth and adorned it with daisies.

  Megan hated to ruin the cheery mood. But it had to be done.

  “I need to tell you guys something.” Megan forced the words out and realized too late that she’d interrupted their conversation.

  “Of course.” Mom put down her fork, dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and folded her hands in her lap. At fifty-eight, she still looked young and spry, despite the streaks of gray in her blonde hair. “You can talk with us about anything.”

  Dad’s eyebrows raised in expectation. “Absolutely. What’s going on?” He adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses.

  Megan pricked a roasted carrot and twirled it on her plate. “As you know, I had a great checkup today.”

  “Yes, and we are so thankful.” Mom reached over and squeezed her forearm.

  This was the first doctor’s appointment Megan hadn’t allowed her mother to come to. At first, Mom had protested. After all, her entire life for more than twenty years had revolved around Megan’s health. Every time Megan had been admitted to the hospital, Mom only left her side to eat, sleep, and shower. She’d even quit her job as a lawyer to take care of Megan a few years after she’d been diagnosed, once her symptoms worsened and she needed more constant care.

  But besides the fact Megan was thirty-two years old and could handle checkups on her own, she’d needed to ask the doctor a few questions. Alone. Specifically, was she physically capable of traveling around the world? And was she well enough to, say, run with the bulls in Pamplona?

  He’d assured her the answer to both was yes.

  “I talked to Dr. Springer about a few things today.” The light from a cookie-scented candle flickered on the wall.

  “What kinds of things?” Mom’s grip on Megan’s arm tightened. “Have you been having problems you haven’t told us about?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Megan paused. It was now or never. “You know I went to visit Amanda’s family earlier this week.”

  “Yes.” Mom’s lips twisted in sympathy. “Those poor people.”

  How was Megan going to get through this without crying? “Her parents showed me her journal.” Megan pulled it from her lap and placed it on the table next to her plate. “Inside, she wrote a list of twenty-five things she wanted to do during her lifetime. A bucket list.”

  Mom released Megan, and her fingers drummed along the edge of the table. “Did that make you uncomfortable?”

  “A little at first. But they thought I might like to get to know Amanda. The person she was. The things she struggled with. The things she learned.”

  Mom took a deep breath and drew a tenuous smile across her lips. “What was on the list?” She was trying so hard to be brave, but Megan could tell this conversation shook her. She likely could imagine this being Megan’s journal of unfulfilled dreams spread open on the table. Many times it almost could have been.

  But Megan had lived, because of Amanda. She owed her this and so much more. And not just that—it was the perfect way to get unstuck.

  Megan cleared her throat. “Mostly travel stuff: visit Machu Picchu, walk along the Great Wall of China, see the Taj Mahal, run
with the bulls in Pamplona, stuff like that.”

  “It sounds a lot like the places you used to talk about seeing.” Dad took a large bite of his roast and chewed.

  Warmth nestled inside her. Even her dad saw the similarities between Amanda and Megan. “I started reading the journal and only got a few pages in when I got an idea. More than an idea, really. Almost like a calling.”

  “A calling? From whom?” Mom pushed her plate away from her. She then put her elbows on the table—something she’d never normally do.

  “From Amanda.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened, and she looked from Megan to her father. “What do you mean?”

  “I know it wasn’t actually Amanda calling me—”

  “Calling you to what?” All color had drained from Mom’s face. As if she knew.

  Megan’s appetite gone, she smashed the carrot on her plate with the prongs of her fork. “I’m going to finish the list.”

  “What?”

  Megan was surprised the chandelier overhead didn’t burst with the shrillness of Mom’s voice.

  “Whatever makes you think that is a good idea?”

  Dad lifted his hand and frowned. “Now, Tracy—”

  “No, Ken. This is absurd.” Mom visibly calmed herself. She turned back to Megan. “Honey, you’ve done so much lately to get healthy again. This kind of trip would test your limits in a way you never have before. I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

  “Dr. Springer doesn’t agree.” The defiance in Megan’s tone surprised her—and it clearly shocked Mom. Megan tightened the grip on her napkin. “He said there isn’t one thing on the list I wouldn’t be capable of doing.” Of course, he’d also said he wouldn’t necessarily recommend some of them, given her health history . . . but Mom didn’t need to hear that.

  “I can’t believe he would tell you that. Didn’t you say running with bulls was on the list? How is that safe for anyone, much less a girl who’s had a weak heart her entire life?”

  Though her mother hadn’t meant the words as barbs, they landed and stung all the same. “I have her heart now, Mom.” Megan’s throat got all cottony—a telltale sign of tears to come. Great. Not now, when she was trying to present her case logically. She took a sip of water. “The last item on her bucket list was to give her heart away.”

  Mom deflated a bit. She shrank back into her seat. “You are so incredibly sweet. I know you must feel as if you owe the Abbotts something—”

  “Not just something, Mom. I owe them everything.”

  Mom’s eyebrows bunched as she searched for the right words. “And we will be forever grateful that you are here with us still. There were times—so many times—I thought we’d be saying good-bye.”

  “Me too.” Megan’s vision blurred.

  Dad had finished eating, but still he didn’t say anything.

  “I just don’t think you should make a decision based on emotions alone.” Mom’s lawyer tone came out. “You should be logical about this. How are you supposed to pay for it? You’re still working on paying down your hospital bills.” She saw a debate and was determined to win. Winning against Megan had always been easy. Crystal was the one with an iron will and the nerve to fight back. How would she handle this?

  She’d just leave and not look back. Oh, where had that thought come from? Megan threw it far from her mind. “I’m not sure. I haven’t worked out all the details yet. Maybe I can get a small loan. And the hospital has been great about working with me on payments so far. Living here rent-free has allowed me to get ahead on my payments and save a little on the side, so maybe I can delay my next several payments a bit.”

  “That seems unwise. And also, have you thought about the fact you’ve never traveled anywhere? Traveling can be very stressful. What will you do when you get to the middle of nowhere and know nobody?”

  Mom’s words chipped away at Megan’s confidence. Just because she’d always dreamed of doing something like this didn’t mean she was cut out to actually do it. Maybe Mom was right. Megan hadn’t thought through all of this. But she could learn, couldn’t she? “I—”

  “And what about your job? As a part-time employee, you don’t have paid time off.”

  Here was a question she was prepared for. She’d already run the idea past her boss. “Kara said they couldn’t guarantee they’d be able to hold my position for me, but they’d get along without me for as long as possible and offer it back if it’s still available when I return.”

  “Is that the most responsible thing to do—leave a steady job when you’ve got bills to pay?”

  She’d spent hours thinking about that very thing. “The library was never meant to be my job forever. You know I’ve always wanted to be a travel writer, or at least work for a newspaper in some capacity. And you’ve always said you believe in me.”

  “Of course we believe in you. It’s just—”

  “Wait, Mom. Listen.” Wow. Is this how it felt to fight for something? A spark of determination moved her onward. “Every time I showed you an essay or a piece I’d written just for fun, you’d encourage me to submit it somewhere, to share it with the world. You’d tell me I had what it took to succeed. I never believed you. But now . . . I want to try. This could be such a great opportunity for me to build my portfolio.”

  “How?”

  “I could start a travel blog. I’ve read plenty of them, so I know generally where to begin. And even if no one ever reads it, just writing it will provide me with some pieces to show a newspaper or magazine. I’m hoping that could lead to some freelance jobs.” Megan blew out a shaky breath. “At the very least, it’s a step in the right direction.”

  “So is this about Amanda, or is this about you?”

  “Both, I think.” And that was okay, wasn’t it?

  Mom was quiet for a moment. She stared at the flowers on the table. Her gaze moved back to Megan, softened, yet pleading. “I suppose we can’t stop you, can we?” She gathered a few dishes and stood, pushing her chair out as she did. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.” Then she headed toward the kitchen and disappeared around the corner.

  Oh, Mom. Megan looked at her own plate. The mashed contents were transformed from an appetizing feast to a pile of lumpy remains.

  “Your mother loves you.” Dad’s voice whizzed through the stagnant air and smacked Megan in the face. She gazed up at him. He had pushed aside his own plate—clean as a whistle—and steepled his fingers.

  “I know that.” And she did. Sometimes she just wished—well, that she’d never been sick. That she’d been born with a different heart. That she had more courage. That she was more like Crystal. She didn’t know anyone stronger than her sister.

  “As much as she loves you, though”—Dad snapped Megan back to the present—“she often lets fear get in the way of reason.”

  “What are you saying, Daddy?” Dad rarely gave advice. But when he did, Megan listened.

  “I’m saying your mother has many fine qualities. She’s loyal and loving and generous. But she’s afraid of losing you. She always has been. She wrestles with God about that every day.” He got up and gathered his plate and utensils, then turned toward the kitchen. “If you’re going to be like your mom, then copy her loyalty or her love or her generosity. Not her fear.”

  Megan twisted in her seat. “So you agree with me? That I should go?”

  “That doesn’t really matter one way or another. Something tells me, Megan Jayne, that you know exactly what you should do.” Daddy nodded, as if agreeing with himself. “But be sure you pray about it first.” He left the room.

  Pray about it . . . sure. She’d missed a lot of church growing up, but she’d tried praying for years that God would make her well—or, at the very least, that he’d make her strong. Finally, she’d given up. It had been years since she’d really bothered to ask God for anything. And then—bam!—out of the blue he gave her a new chance at life three and a half years ago. Not because she’d prayed about it but because he w
anted to.

  Her prayers did nothing to sway an almighty God, so if he didn’t want her going on this trip, he’d find a way to stop her.

  Daddy was right. She did know exactly what she should do.

  She walked to the candle, leaned over, and blew it out. Smoke rose and curled in the air, but Megan smiled at things to come.

  Crystal checked her watch as she hurried from her office building toward home. It was Friday, and she’d purposefully left before 5:00 p.m. It had to have been months since the last time she’d done that. But she’d heard the concern in Brian’s voice Wednesday at the fire station and was determined to do better, to show him he was a priority to her. She’d surprise him with dinner when he got home from playing basketball at the gym.

  The air was crisp today, and though tinged with smog, it smelled of cinnamon. When she arrived home, Crystal tossed her purse onto the entryway table and headed into their bedroom. She changed from her business casual wear into a pair of skinny jeans, a loose off-the-shoulder sweater, and a pair of sandals. Then she opened the top drawer of her dresser and rustled through her undergarments until she found the nightie she was looking for stuffed in the very back. Crystal tugged off the tags, smoothed out the lingerie, and placed it on top of the bed.

  She hummed as she headed toward the kitchen. From the foyer, her phone rang. Who would be calling her at four in the afternoon? It might be Tony, who had looked at her askance when she’d said she was taking off early. He’d wanted to order Chinese and discuss the Lerner proposal. She’d said they could do it Monday over lunch instead.

  See? She could balance work and her personal life. It just took careful planning.

  When she reached her phone, the name on the caller ID made her do a double take. Mom? She hardly ever called when she knew Crystal was working. “Hello?”

  “Crystal.” Mom’s voice sounded frantic on the other line. “Thank goodness you answered.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it Megan?” Crystal turned and leaned against the wall. Her heart slammed into her chest and sweat formed on her palms. Had her sister relapsed?