by Tina Leonard
“No. Not really.”
“Were you glad to get calls from other people?”
“Actually, yes.”
“You said you would have liked a card better than flowers from me,” Christine reminded her. “I should have called. I’m so sorry I let so much time get away from us, Carolyn. Don’t let it happen to you and Ben. I mean, I know it’s not the same thing, but waiting for the other person to call doesn’t always work out.”
Carolyn stared at her. “Are you saying you wished I would have called you? All these years you were busy being glamorous and jet-setting, you wanted me to call you?”
“I guess I always hoped that my little sis would need me. I try so hard to be successful because I want to be needed by anyone—but most particularly you.”
“You’re not donating for Ben and Lucy. You’re doing it for me.”
“I told you, I didn’t like to see you so upset. I’d give anything to bring back those years we were apart. I almost think I’d carry a baby for you and Ben,” she said, her voice teasing. She sat up on the sofa. “As a matter of fact, I’d be a great surrogate mother, now that I think about it. Have the baby, give the baby to you, go back to my single life— Nah. I couldn’t give up my figure even for you. But—“ she said, her expression so cheerful she made Carolyn smile “—I can tell you like this little Lucy. And if I’ve got the right stuff for her, it might as well be put to good use. But call Ben and at least say hello, Carolyn. He might need you.”
Carolyn bit her lip. “I told him a lot of things the other night he might not have wanted to hear.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can call him as a friend. Whether or not you end up as anything more is beyond your control. But don’t try to read his tea leaves. You don’t know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t even know what he’s thinking. Now, let me tell you about this tattoo I’m rewarding myself with just as soon as I’ve donated to Lucy.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
BEN SAT AND stared at Lucy while she slept, occasionally reaching to brush his fingers against her face. She needed her rest, but the temptation to touch her was too much to resist. God only knew how much longer he might have her softness to feel, her beauty to see, her giggles to make him laugh.
He sighed, putting his head down on the bedside rail. Somehow he had thought God would only take one of his precious family. He couldn’t lose his mother and his daughter.
Every once in a while, he’d even bargained with God, offering everything he had to keep his daughter. But so far, God didn’t seem to be listening.
“Ben?”
Carolyn’s soft voice came to him like a light chasing away his worst nightmare. He raised his head, then got up to go to her as she stood in the doorway. She wrapped her arms around him at the very moment he felt the loneliest, the most frightened that maybe no human contact on this planet could stop the pain.
“Carolyn,” he murmured against her hair, holding on to her like a lifeline. “I am so glad to see you.”
* * *
THE NEXT VOICE he heard was Lucy’s, waking him out of the first sound sleep he’d had in two days, if one could count dozing in a hospital chair as sleep. Carolyn had curled up next to him, lying against his chest like a warm blanket, and he’d relaxed enough to finally drift into unencumbered rest.
“Yes, sweetie.”
“I’m thirsty. And I hurt.”
“I know you do,” Ben said, his heart aching.
Carolyn pulled the mask that Ben had given her over her nose and mouth and went to touch Lucy’s skin as he poured a small amount of liquid into a cup. “Slowly,” he told Lucy.
“I dreamed of good things,” she said, closing her eyes as she lay back against the pillow. “I dreamed so many good things I didn’t want to wake up. I’m glad I did, though, or I might have missed Miss Carolyn.”
She kissed her fingertips through the mask, then placed them against Lucy’s forehead. “Hi, Lucy.”
“Hi, Miss Carolyn. How are my pets, Daddy?”
“They’re fine. Don’t you worry about a thing. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“I know,” she murmured. “Good night, Miss Carolyn. Good night, Daddy.”
And with that, she slipped back to sleep.
Tears sprang into Ben’s eyes. “I can’t take it,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t think I can watch her go through this much longer. I want to take the pain from her. Why can’t it be me instead of her?” he begged, looking heavenward.
He felt Carolyn lean against his side, supporting him. She said nothing and he was glad, because he really didn’t have any words left in him. He’d begged, prayed, cried, screamed all he could.
And now he was left with the silence.
* * *
“COME ON,” he heard Carolyn say after a while. “Let me take you to my apartment so you can shower and get something to eat. Believe it or not, Christine’s quite a cook, and she’s always got something hot on the stove.”
“Lucy might wake up.” His gaze strayed to his daughter, checking her color. The chemo had worn her out so badly that he was worried sick.
“You’re going to make yourself ill, and that’s not going to help Lucy. Come on.”
He allowed Carolyn to tug him from the room. She led him to the parking lot, where he crumpled into the seat of her tiny car. Vaguely aware that the night was black velvet and the season seemed to be changing from summer to fall by the cooling of the air, he was content to let her steer him wherever she thought he should go.
Quietly, he followed her upstairs to her apartment. The door opened the minute she put her key in the lock, flung wide by Christine.
Her face was covered in a pasty green mask, and she wore a white towel wrapped around her head and a bathrobe with big red kisses all over it. Something smelled strongly of citrus, and whatever urge he’d had to be listless dissipated like a breeze.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said dryly, the sarcasm obvious yet not mean.
“You’d better be nice to me, Mr. Mulholland,” she shot back. “Especially since it looks like I may be the match you’re looking for.”
She sauntered to the sofa, flopped onto it, and picked up purple polish, which she proceeded to apply to her toenails.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“I’m now more than halfway through testing to be a donor for Lucy. I told Carolyn not to tell you before because we decided it wasn’t fair to get your hopes up. After tomorrow, we’ll know for sure. With any luck, your little daughter will have a part of me in her. Kind of cool, kind of scary, huh?”
She looked at Ben, beaming so hard that the green mask cracked a little, like clay. Ben glanced at Carolyn, who nodded confirmation, and he stared in disbelief, too emotionally fractured to comprehend at first that the miracle he’d been wanting so badly might be within reach.
“Are you sure? Have you—I mean—”
“Ben. Sit down,” Carolyn said gently, leading him to the sofa. “Christine, I think you’re scaring him.”
“Oh, my gosh! I forgot I had this stupid mask on.” She jumped off the sofa and hurried into the bathroom.
He stared at Carolyn. “I can hardly take it in. Can it be true?”
“So far, so good. I guess we’ll know for sure tomorrow.”
She squealed when he swept her off her feet into his lap.
“My mother was right. She said you would help me. And you have.” And then he kissed her, long and gently, feeling hope he hadn’t thought he’d ever feel again.
* * *
THE NEXT FEW days were a blur to Ben. Christine finished a battery of tests, and Lucy met Christine, whom she liked on the spot. Christine was vivacious and outrageous and made his daughter laugh. Then Lucy was whisked
away for the worst part of the procedure, purging all her own bone marrow so that Christine’s could be injected into her.
Through all of this, he was dimly aware of Carolyn, quietly supportive, comforting everyone. She brought him food, she took care of her sister, she called Marissa and kept her up to date.
“Marissa said she’d catch the next plane,” he heard Carolyn say.
For Lucy’s sake he was glad. For himself, he didn’t care. All he could do was buffer Lucy’s growing pain and fear. Beyond that, he had nothing to give.
* * *
CAROLYN HAD TAKEN a couple days off from Finders Keepers in order to help take care of Christine, Ben and Lucy. She’d offered to feed the pets at his ranch house, so that he wouldn’t have to go that far from the hospital. It was quicker for him to shower at her place and grab a snack there. He didn’t want to spend more than an hour away from the hospital at a time.
They wouldn’t know how the transplant was truly affecting Lucy for some time. But Christine was ready to get out of the hospital, so Carolyn went to wheel her from the room to the car.
To her surprise, Ben was already there, laying a florist-wrapped bouquet of flowers across Christine’s lap. “I don’t think she’s quite herself,” he told Carolyn as she walked up.
“I’m just a little sore,” Christine said. “I’ll be all right once I get home to my kiss robe and my feathered mules. Carolyn says she’s going to pamper me, and I’m going to hold her to that.”
“Are you terribly uncomfortable?” Carolyn asked, allowing Ben to take the wheelchair handles. “Are you all right?”
“Let me just say that I didn’t get over my fear of needles quite as I’d hoped, and that perhaps I just lost every desire to get a tattoo on my butt.”
Ben pushed the wheelchair forward, glancing at Carolyn. “I don’t think I was in on this conversation.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You probably don’t need to be in on it now, either.”
He grinned at her, his face tired and drawn but his expression lighter than she’d seen since before the transplant.
“How is Lucy?” Carolyn asked.
“Tough. Tougher than her old dad. How she goes through this, I don’t know.”
She put her hand around his arm as he pushed the wheelchair. “You’re pretty tough yourself.”
“I had you to lean on.”
“Don’t leave me out. Remember, I’m Superwoman,” Christine commented, but her tone was tired and lacked its usual spunk. “I wonder if it would be appropriate to be ill.”
“You go back to Lucy,” Carolyn said hurriedly, taking the wheelchair handles from Ben. “I’ve got it from here.”
“Okay.” He looked at her uncertainly. “Thanks, Christine.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll call you later,” he told Carolyn, “and let you know how Lucy’s doing.”
She nodded, and when he brushed her lips, Carolyn told herself that he was going to be okay.
* * *
SHE GOT Christine home, and her sister had somehow avoided being sick. “Go to sleep,” Carolyn told her as she helped her into bed. “You’ve earned it.”
“I’ve earned Richard Gere, little sister. Suppose I’ll get him?”
“Not in the literal sense. But if you go to sleep, you might dream about him.”
Christine closed her eyes, allowing Carolyn to draw the blanket up to her chin. “All I ever do is dream. I want a man of my own. In the flesh.”
“How can you think about men when you’ve just gone through such a gruelling medical procedure?”
“Because I see what you and Ben have,” Christine said softly, her voice starting to fade. “You were right, Carolyn. I have been avoiding guys who are good for me. Without realizing it, I was trying so hard to have fun that I was dating guys who could only give me momentary fun and long-term misery. Not that Ben isn’t fun,” she said quickly, opening her eyes again. “And he was sweet to bring me flowers at the hospital.” She sighed deeply, letting her eyelids drift closed again. “But he’s not the kind of guy you’d pick up in a bar, you know? Because he wouldn’t be in a bar in the first place. And that’s the kind of man to find.”
Carolyn smiled, kissing her sister’s cheek. “Go to sleep. You can think about where to find the right man later.”
“Oh, I didn’t say I was going to do it immediately. But I’m not falling for any more bad boys, either. Although I’m not sure I could resist some of these country-and-western singers with attitude if they asked me out…”
Carolyn flipped out the light, backed from the room and closed her sister’s door. She smiled, realizing that she was starting to know Christine better than she ever had. She’d always thought her sister was distant and shallow. Now she recognized those characteristics as emotional defense tactics. Christine wanted healthy choices in her life; either she was seeking the wrong things because she didn’t feel deep-down that she deserved any better, or she was terrified of allowing herself to get close to anyone.
It probably all went back to the fact that their parents had fought constantly, making their marriage a war and their home a battleground. Christine and Carolyn had been the weapons.
Now they were both dealing with the aftershocks. Carolyn’s way was to think she had too many defects to be wanted, like a cracked Chinese vase in a dusty shop. The possibility of being valued was there, but the intrinsic value was lost forever due to the crack.
She was glad Christine had come to stay with her—they both needed healing.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Carolyn was awakened by a phone call from Emily. “I hear you’ve been busy,” she stated. “Congratulations on finding a donor, especially one so convenient.”
Carolyn moaned, not sure if her eyes could open. She’d lain awake thinking about Ben, wondering if she was going to regret the fact that she was falling in love with him again. It wasn’t what she had planned to do—and she’d learned that her life went better if she planned each and every move meticulously. But her heart didn’t seem to want to be charted, and somehow, she was beginning to feel safe enough to be spontaneous. “I never dreamed Christine might be a match. Emily, she was probably the last person on earth I would have thought to ask. We’ve never been particularly close, you know, and then to have her give me the thing I wanted so desperately…well, it’s just one of those unplanned things that turns out good.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you’re planning to remember the wedding tonight. The big event.”
Carolyn’s eyes flew open, her gaze flying to the fabulous hot-pink evening gown hanging on a padded hanger on a hook in the open closet door. Emily had helped her pick the dress out, saying it was good for Carolyn to glam up her life, at least for a night. “I had forgotten!”
Emily laughed. “Have you got an escort?”
Carolyn blinked. “No. Do I need one?”
“No. You can hang out with me and my man, of course. I just thought you might have asked Ben… .”
“Um, no. The thought never occurred to me,” she said, hedging a little because she would love to spend an evening with him, dressed up so he could see her as something more than reliable old Carolyn. She considered the slit in the hot-pink evening gown and the satin pumps that went with it, the rhinestone earrings that would just brush her neck. “I can’t ask Ben. He’s got his plate full. I’m sure he’ll be spending every minute at the hospital.”
“Which is why it would be good for him to get away for a few hours,” Emily pointed out. “Think about asking him, Carolyn. It’s going to be a gorgeous wedding, and I’d love to meet Ben. When’s the last time you had a romantic evening, anyway? This would be quite in the Cinderella fashion, a beautiful gown, a handsome prince—ask him, Carolyn. Tell him you’ll have him home before midnight.”
; Carolyn snorted. “Very funny.”
“See you in a few hours,” Emily said in a singsong voice. “With The Escort, I hope. Bye!”
Carolyn hung up the phone, and it immediately rang again. She picked it up. “Now what?”
“Good morning, beautiful,” a man said.
She was still mulling over Emily’s suggestion and fell back on her professional voice. “This is Carolyn St. Clair.”
“Carolyn, it’s Ben.”
“Oh, Ben!” She sat up in the bed. “I didn’t recognize your voice. You sound…tired.”
“I may sound like it, but I’m not. I’m at the hospital, and I promised I’d call you to update you on Lucy.”
“How is she?”
“Carolyn, it’s the most incredible thing. If I didn’t know better, if I didn’t think it was the product of my overhopeful imagination, I would say that something about her seems healthier. Better. Like there’s more life in her.”
“Maybe there is.”
“I’m sure it’s too soon to tell, but I decided I can indulge a little wishful thinking.”
“Go right ahead. We’re all counting on my sister’s bone marrow to be just what Lucy needed.”
They both laughed a little.
“Is Christine asleep?” Ben asked.
“You’d better believe it. She was so tired last night she was talking about changing her taste in men. It was almost as if she had undergone some kind of epiphany.”
Ben chuckled. “Just as long as you don’t change your taste in men.”
Carolyn’s eyes widened. What exactly did that mean? She was too shy to ask, so she blundered into another topic. “I forgot tonight is Lily and Cole’s wedding, which I have to go to since it would be ultrarude to miss my own boss’s wedding. I’d thought I would come to the hospital late this afternoon to spell you off so you could go shower or whatever. Can I do it at lunchtime instead?”
“You should stay home with Christine today. I’m fine, really I am. I’m going to leave for a while since everything is going so well. And I’ll feed the pets today. You just paint your toenails and whatever else women do to get ready for a big night.”
