Richard’s admiration for Rebecca’s house only grew as he walked inside. Dark wood floors and high vaulted ceilings filled the upstate retreat. One bedroom was on the main floor, with another four upstairs. All of them were positioned to have a view of the river. Glancing out one of the windows, Richard saw a separate guest house that had been converted to a command center for the Secret Service.
Sarah opened the door to a wraparound porch that overlooked a pool, yard, and the river. She stepped back and motioned for Richard to walk outside. Gus ran past him and took off toward the water, but he knew the dog wouldn’t go far. Richard heard a creaking noise and turned to see Rebecca rocking back and forth in a wooden chair. Richard’s heart leapt at the sight of her. Walking closer, he gasped.
“Oh my God, Becks. What happened?”
****
Rebecca jumped at the sound of Richard’s voice. Turning in her chair, she saw that she wasn’t hearing things. He was there, in front of her, looking as gorgeous as ever in khaki slacks and a green checked button-down.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she blurted out.
“Sarah called me. She said if I ever loved you at all, I needed to come as fast as I could.” Richard knelt down in front of her chair and took Rebecca’s hands in his. “Baby, you’re ice cold.”
She shook her head. “It’s just my hands. The rest of me is warm.”
“Why don’t you go inside and sit by the fire?”
“I like the fresh air. The doctor said it’s good for me.”
Rebecca watched as Richard examined her head to toe. Starting at her thinning hair, down over her sunken cheekbones and pale skin, and finishing with a scan of her thin body that was covered by a blanket. She had lost close to twenty pounds since the last time she saw Richard – two months ago at Rosewood.
He let go over Rebecca’s hands only long enough to drag another rocking chair over next to her, then grabbed hold of them once again.
“What’s going on, Rebecca?”
She could see the worry on his face and hear the fear in his voice. He never calls me by my full name. She took a deep breath. “I have cancer.”
EIGHTY-FIVE
Richard felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Rebecca’s shoulders, pulling her close. They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, neither willing to let the other one go.
Gus trotted back up the porch steps and nuzzled his way between them, looking for attention. Richard loosened his grasp on Rebecca and smiled. “I guess he thinks I’m only supposed to hug him.”
Rebecca leaned over to rub the dog’s ears. “Well, of course,” she cooed. “You should always be the center of attention, big guy.”
Gus responded by raising up and licking Rebecca on the chin.
“Hey now, big brown dog,” said Richard. “Don’t be moving in on my lady.”
Gus snorted, turned around three times, and curled up at Rebecca’s feet.
Richard and Rebecca both laughed at the dog’s antics. After a minute, though, their smiles faded.
“Tell me everything, Becks. I need to know it all, so I can know how we’re going to fight this.”
Rebecca pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. It was late afternoon, and the cool October temperatures were dropping with the sun.
“It started in my pancreas,” she said. “I had some stomach pain and was losing weight, but I thought it was stress from my job. I wasn’t hungry all that often, but, again, I thought it was the stress. And that not eating as much caused me to lose weight.” She paused. “None of it was a big deal. I was sleeping fine. I wasn’t super tired or anything like that. But I woke up one morning and my eyes and skin were yellow. Jaundice. It didn’t take the doctors long to diagnose me after that.”
“When did you find out?”
“About six weeks ago.”
Richard counted backward in his mind. “You felt sick when you were at Rosewood?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Some of the symptoms had started, but again I didn’t think it was anything. I didn’t go to the doctor until after I got back home. I should have gone earlier – I know that now. But I’ve always hated doctors.” She shrugged her shoulders. “After what happened with John, can you blame me?”
When Richard didn’t reply, she continued: “I’ve always been healthy. A regular check-up seemed pointless, especially when my time was so valuable and scarce with work. Ironic, isn’t it? I didn’t want to take an hour to go to the doctor, and because of that I may lose thirty years. ‘If we had only caught it sooner . . . ’ The doctors all tell me that. It’s my own fault.” Rebecca shrugged again, and Richard saw her skinny shoulder bones poke up through her shirt. “I’ve always hated doctors.”
“It’s not your fault that you got sick, Becks.”
She nodded. “I know. I didn’t smoke or drink too much or do anything else to bring it on myself. It’s not my fault that I got sick, but it is my fault that I may not get better.”
Richard heard a door creak and turned to see Sarah walk outside to join them. “It’s time for your medicine, Mom,” she said, handing Rebecca a glass of water and a small plastic cup full of pills. “You should probably get some rest before dinner.”
Rebecca swallowed the medicine in one gulp. “She thinks she’s my nurse now. Do this, do that.”
“I’m making sure you follow your doctor’s orders,” Sarah replied.
Richard could tell that this wasn’t the first time the mother and daughter argued over the issue. He stood up from his chair and offered an arm to Rebecca. “C’mon. I’ll help you inside.”
****
After Rebecca drifted off to sleep, Richard and Sarah went back outside. They walked down the porch steps and over to a small fire pit at the edge of the yard. Richard lit the firewood with a match, and they settled into oversized Adirondack chairs that were positioned to catch the heat of the fire and the view of the sunset.
The beauty of the moment was lost on Richard.
“Give it to me straight, Sarah. What are we dealing with?”
The twenty-seven-year-old let out a deep breath. She looked as if she had aged six years in the last six weeks.
“Stage Four pancreatic cancer. It’s spread to her stomach and liver now, too. She’s part of a clinical trial for a new drug – that’s why she’s taking so many pills and looks so run down. We’re hoping it’ll work, but the doctors aren’t very optimistic. I lied on the phone – she’s not working remotely. She resigned three days ago. They just haven’t announced it yet.”
****
Richard didn’t talk during dinner. He barely even looked in Rebecca’s direction. She wanted to be mad at him. Wanted to yell and scream and tell him if he was going to act like that then he should leave and go back to London.
I can’t be mad at him, though, she thought as she pushed her spaghetti around on her plate. He just found out that I’m probably going to die. Not even two months after he finally convinced me we should be together. Why wouldn’t he be angry?
After dinner was over, Rebecca gave Sarah a goodnight hug and started walking toward her bedroom. She was surprised when Richard took hold of her hand to escort her there. When they reached the doorway, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, Becks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
EIGHTY-SIX
Rebecca woke up on Saturday morning to the sound of a hammer banging in the living room. She put on her robe and slippers and walked outside to see Richard and two Secret Service agents hanging garland and flowers around the fireplace.
“What on earth are y’all doing?” Rebecca asked. Despite living in New York and Washington for most of her life, she still had a slight Southern accent that popped up from time to time.
Richard turned around, hammer in hand, and smiled at her. “Good morning, beautiful.” He walked over and kissed her on the lips. “We’re setting up for this afternoon. There’s fresh coffee in t
he pot,” he said, nodding toward the kitchen, “and Sarah made a breakfast casserole before she headed out.”
“Wait, where’s Sarah?”
“She went down to New York City for a few hours. Had a couple errands to run.” Richard turned to walk back to the fireplace, but Rebecca grabbed hold of his arm.
“Richard. Arrington. Put down the hammer and tell me what the hell is going on.”
The Secret Service agents chuckled at her tone, and Richard smiled as well.
“Let’s go in the kitchen,” he said. “I’ll pour you a cup of coffee and explain.”
****
“I stayed up all last night thinking about it,” Richard said after they sat down at the kitchen table. “About three o’clock this morning, I figured out what we’re going to do. First things first, we’re getting married this afternoon. And on Monday morning, I’m going to resign. I’m staying here to take care of you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s already done, darling. Jonathan is on his way from Boston, and Sarah is in Manhattan getting a dress and wedding rings.”
“You can’t quit your job,” Rebecca argued. “I’ll be fine. I’m strong, and this new treatment is going to work. I can feel it. Besides, I’ll do better knowing that you’re over in England fulfilling your destiny.”
“What makes you think my staying is to make you feel better, hmm?” He took a sip of his coffee. “I hate to break it to you, Madam Secretary, but you are my destiny. You always have been.”
Rebecca wanted to believe him. She wanted to give in. No. I didn’t live without him for three decades just so he could become Prime Minister and then give it all up.
She shook her head. “You can’t throw away your life in England. You’re the one who told me about all of it in the first place. The title and the family and the estate. How you care what’s expected of you and you can’t chuck it all away because you don’t feel like it.”
“I was twenty-two years old,” Richard replied. “My father was alive . . . everything was different. I would’ve given it all up for you back then, but there’s nothing to give up now. The only thing stopping us is us.”
“And an ocean. And our jobs. And cancer. And – ”
“And nothing.”
He leaned forward and locked eyes with the only woman he had ever loved. “You told me once that you want the flame that burns the longest. That you don’t need the one that burns the brightest. But what you deserve . . . you deserve every light, every candle, every fire flame. Every sun, moon, and star in the sky. Because all of those things combined still wouldn’t shine as brightly as you do.”
Richard paused and let out a deep breath. “I’ve asked you this before, and you said no. So, I’m not asking anymore. Marry me, Rebecca. That’s an order.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Yes. Crazy in love.” Richard reached out and grabbed hold of Rebecca’s hand. “Listen to me, Becks. I should have fought harder for you in business school. I shouldn’t have waited until graduation to say something, and I shouldn’t have let you go. We were stupid to miss our chance. And we were stupid to miss it again after the G7 when you came to Rosewood. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose you to cancer before I ever truly have you.”
“If anyone finds out . . . ”
“They won’t.”
“But if they do?” Rebecca shook her head. “You’ll lose everything that you’ve worked so hard to gain. Being Prime Minister is all you ever wanted.”
“No. You are all I ever wanted. I want nothing more than for your face to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see every night.” Richard got out of his chair and dropped to one knee beside the table. “Will you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife?”
“I thought you weren’t asking anymore. I thought it was an order?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be, as long as you say yes.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and nodded her head, then whispered: “yes.”
“Yes?”
This time she smiled. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
EIGHTY-SEVEN
Jonathan made the three-and-a-half-hour drive from Harvard to the cabin in record time, and he arrived at ten-thirty that morning with his suit and Bible in hand. Although he was skeptical of Richard at first, their time in England made it clear to Jonathan that Richard cared about Rebecca and wanted to make her happy. That’s all that matters, the young man thought.
“Your reverend has arrived!” he said with a smile as he walked inside the house.
“The reverend?” Rebecca asked.
“Yeah, Mom. Don’t you remember? When Joey and Kristin got married in college and they had me get ordained to do it?”
Rebecca shook her head and laughed. “How could I forget? The bridal party wore Hawaiian shirts and hula skirts.”
“We’ll be a little more formal than that,” Sarah declared as she walked through the front door. She had a black garment bag slung over her arm, and she hung it up on the door frame. “I called in a favor with a friend who works at Bergdorf’s. He opened the women’s department early for me, and I got this.” Sarah pulled a knee-length coat dress from the garment bag. It was cream-colored and had a belted waist, a shawl collar, and long sleeves embellished with tiny pearls.
“Oh, honey. It’s gorgeous,” her mother replied.
Sarah beamed. “I thought you’d like it.” She put her tote bag on the floor and pulled out a manila folder. “I also went by the storage unit and got your divorce settlement papers, so you won’t have any problems with the marriage license. And now I’m going into the kitchen to start working on your cake.” She smiled and clapped her hands together. “Yay! Let’s get you two married!”
****
The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Richard. There was the wedding ceremony, with Sarah as Rebecca’s maid of honor and Gus as his best man. Jonathan did a wonderful job officiating the wedding, and even made everyone laugh when he joked, “when God said love is patient, he didn’t mean you had to wait thirty-five years.” After the ceremony came the reception, a party attended by all the Secret Service personnel as well. And then came the hard part: convincing Rebecca to move to England.
“What’s the point of being married if we’re not together?” Richard asked her. Rebecca was sitting in her bed, propped up against several large pillows. The day had drained her energy, and while she rested Richard sat on the edge of the mattress.
“I already told you,” Rebecca replied, “you’re not allowed to quit your job.”
“I understand that. Which means you have to move to England with me.”
She started laughing and began to cough. “No jokes. Please.”
“I’m not joking. You can live at Rosewood. I’ll commute back and forth. We’ll hire the best care in the world. Money is no object – you know that.”
Rebecca sighed. “Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my doctors would allow it.”
“Not true. Sarah called them earlier today. They said as long as you follow protocol and take your medicine, you can do most of your checkups virtually. We’ll hire a team of nurses to make sure everything is done properly.”
She stared at him. “Move to England with you.”
“You already married me,” he replied with a smile. “What’s the big deal about a change of address?”
It actually was a big deal, and Richard knew that. But he also knew that he was done sacrificing their love for the sake of others. We’re going to be together, he told himself, willing her to agree with him. For however long we have left, we’re going to be together.
****
Their plane landed at Deanland Airfield, near the town of Ripe, at nine o’clock on Sunday morning. Originally a Royal Air Base that was a key player in the D-Day invasion, Deanland now served as a private airstrip and was the closest one to Richard’s home. Our home, he thought as he, Rebecca, and Gus stepped off the plane.
A cadre
of three was waiting to greet the prime minister and his new wife. The only three people that Richard would trust with such sensitive information: his longtime assistant, Tricia; his chief of staff, Tripp; and the butler at Rosewood, Mr. Guinn.
Tricia and Tripp climbed in a car along with the newlyweds, while Mr. Guinn and the security agents followed behind them.
“Is everything arranged?” Richard asked.
“Yes sir,” Tricia replied. “We’ve code-named it Operation Starlight. A team of three nurses is waiting for you at Rosewood. They talked with the American doctors and have everything we need. And the East Wing study has been converted into a bedroom so Mrs. Arrington won’t have to deal with any stairs.”
Richard and Rebecca both smiled at her new name. As their car rumbled down the driveway at Rosewood, Richard took hold of her hand and squeezed it. “Welcome home, Lady Dublinshire.”
EIGHTY-EIGHT
Late that night, after the staff and nurses all left, Richard walked Rebecca to the East Wing of the house. He looked around the former study and nodded his head in approval. Guinn did a good job. It looks like a real bedroom. The filing cabinets had been replaced by a clothes dresser, the office chairs were gone, and all the medical equipment was hidden from view by a decorative screen. Best of all, a king-sized bed now sat where the desk used to be, and it was positioned so Rebecca could look out the French doors into the garden.
She climbed into the bed, lied down, and patted beside her on the comforter. “Come over here.”
Richard smiled. He walked to the other side of the bed, took off his shoes, and slid under the covers to be next to Rebecca.
Every Star in the Sky Page 20
