by Corman, Ana
Olivia laughed. “Not a problem.”
Catherine raised her glass of ice tea. She leaned forward and tapped her drink to Olivia’s. “I believe my penance has been paid.”
Olivia smiled. “To good old Catholic guilt.” She brought the straw to her lips and took a sip. “This is terrific, thank you.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Catherine said.
“Neither can I. I’m on call till seven a.m., but I wanted to see you.”
“Despite what I’ve put you through.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking I should probably get my head examined.”
Catherine playfully smacked her knee.
“Although, in all fairness, Abbot, Costello, and Ruth’s absence contributed to my crazy week as well.”
Catherine became more serious. “It’s been a life-altering week for me, Olivia. Every time we talked, I wanted to know how you were, but felt hesitant to hear about your patients. Then I thought about how my mom doesn’t like to tell me about the women she works with in the Comfort Program, because she knows it makes me feel uncomfortable. I want to be a better person than that. I want to be more supportive to my mother’s cause and the work you do. It may take me a while, but that’s what I want to work on.”
“You’ve been through an incredible amount of pain with both parents, Catherine. Cancer is your family history, but it doesn’t have to be yours. Nobody expects you to do more than you can handle. Be kind to yourself. Give what you’re capable of giving and no one will fault you for it. Especially the people who know you and love you.”
“All you need is a set of pom-poms, Dr. Carrington, and you’ll be set.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make fun.”
“Sorry for interrupting, ladies, but I’m about ready to go.”
Catherine looked up at Laura. “Okay.”
“I’ll go see if Dana’s ready. Why don’t we meet you in the coffee shop?”
“That’ll be fine. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Good night, Dr. Carrington. Hopefully we’ll see you here again.”
“Good night, Laura. Thank you for the return invitation. I wasn’t sure if you were going to blacklist me or not.”
“That’s yet to be determined.”
Laura walked away. “I can really feel her warming up now,” Olivia said.
Catherine laughed. Olivia reached for the pewter pendant resting against her chest. Catherine felt her heart beat faster at the touch. “This is lovely,” Olivia said
Catherine looked down at Olivia’s long slender fingers delicately balancing her pendant, tracing the cross. “It’s a mustard-seed necklace. Flip it over.”
Olivia gently turned the pendant around and examined the mustard seed imbedded in the enamel.
“The mustard seed is a symbol of all that can be accomplished if only you believe. My parents gave that to me on the first anniversary of our store.”
“That’s beautiful.” Olivia brushed her thumb across the mustard seed before laying it to rest against Catherine’s chest. Catherine stood hesitantly, her heart still beating hard. Olivia rose from her chair and gathered her paperback book. She bent down and stroked Maya’s chin. “Thanks for the warm hospitality, Maya. Maybe you could teach Attila the Laura a thing or two.”
Catherine smiled. “I’ll walk you to the door, Olivia.”
“That’d be great. I’ll go pay for my hiking guide first.”
Catherine touched Olivia’s arm. “I won’t hear of it. Please accept the book as a gift from me and my mom.”
Olivia took a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet, folded it in half, and slipped it into Catherine’s pocket. “If I don’t pay for this book, Laura is liable to hunt me down. Put the change in the tip jar of the girl who made my delicious drink.”
“Well, then, thank you for the tip, Dr. Carrington. I’ll spend it wisely.”
They walked together to the sliding glass doors.
“What time should I meet you tomorrow at the Coronado?” Catherine asked.
“My lecture should end around four-thirty Shall we meet in the main foyer at five o’clock?”
“Sounds great.”
Olivia nodded toward the cafe. “Your family is waiting for you.”
“Good night, Dr. Carrington.”
Olivia stepped through the doors and out into the cool night air, then headed across the parking lot. The traffic was steady on Fifth Avenue while groups of people walked the streets and gathered to talk. The shops lining both sides of the street were garishly lit with their doors open wide for business and the cool breeze. The sounds of the Caribbean spilled from the music store on the corner while ESPN broadcast the basketball game from the sports bar down the street.
Olivia looked back over her shoulder to the bright warmth of Cocoa Cream, washed by a wave of longing.
Sixteen
WHEN CATHERINE WAS A LITTLE GIRL, the Hotel del Coronado always made her feel like she’d walked onto the grounds of a fairy-tale castle. The massive red-peaked roofs soared upward. The pristine white building seemed to stretch forever, embraced by unending balconies. Sometimes she wished she could reclaim the pure pleasure she’d felt here as a child.
She walked along the patio, pulling her red cardigan tighter as the gentle breeze tugged at her dress. She looked beyond the expanse of white beach to the Pacific Ocean. Children played in the surf line, mindless of the cool water lapping at their toes. She leaned against the railing, letting the afternoon sun caress her face. She’d planned to arrive at the hotel only as Olivia’s lecture was ending, then whisk her away to dinner on Orange Avenue, but something had drawn her here earlier.
As she watched the children on the beach, Catherine felt transported back to her childhood, when she would come here with her parents. Together they’d built magical castles with water-filled moats and towering turrets. When they were done, they’d walk along the beach and collect shells and chase the sand crabs back into their holes.
When Catherine was around thirteen, she’d begun to realize that only very wealthy people could afford to stay at the fairy-tale castle of the Hotel del Coronado. For years it had bothered her that places like this were not within her family’s reach. She’d still loved to come to the beach with her parents, but she’d no longer wanted to wander around the hotel grounds.
Over time she’d come to realize how happy she was with exactly the level of wealth she’d achieved. She felt blessed with the success of Cocoa Cream, blessed that she’d been able to afford her own modest home.
The laughter of the children drew Catherine’s eyes back to the beach. Her dad had loved when they buried him in the beach sand. She clearly remembered the day he’d said, “When I die, I want you two to bury me right here.”
Three months after he’d died they’d chartered a boat with family and friends and headed several miles offshore. Father O’Brien prayed with everyone and blessed Aidan’s ashes before Catherine and her mother tossed them to the sea. That way, her mother believed, he could always be part of the ocean and beach he loved so much.
There’d been so much turmoil and uncertainty in her life over the past several years. Things were just getting back to a sense of normalcy when a woman with beautiful amber eyes stormed into her life like a summer deluge in a tropical rainforest. Catherine deeply appreciated Olivia. She was forthright and grounded. She didn’t take crap from anyone, including Catherine. She was also extremely beautiful. Catherine didn’t appreciate the way her body yearned for Olivia without her permission.
She thought of Alexis, the last woman she’d trusted with her heart, the last woman she’d deeply desired. She never wanted to need or desire a woman like that again. She never wanted to be hurt again. Now she found herself staring at the waves as they washed up on the shore and faded back into the sea. If she opened her heart to Olivia, she would open herself to being hurt. But she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep Olivia just as a friend.
Catherine was jolted from he
r thoughts as a group of women walked across the patio and filed into the grand Hotel del Coronado. She took a deep breath and followed in behind them, stopping outside the Crown Room. Next to the door was a poster with a beautiful photo of Olivia and the caption Dr. Olivia Carrington, Current Therapies in the Fight against Breast Cancer. She couldn’t listen to another lecture on cancer. She would just go for a walk and meet Olivia later as planned.
An older man dressed neatly in a crisp black suit closed one of the doors. “We’re about to begin. Would you like to come in?”
Catherine gripped the strap of her purse. “I hadn’t planned to.”
He pointed to the poster. “I hear she’s a great speaker. My wife died of breast cancer two years ago. I can only pray that this Dr. Olivia Carrington can give the women in there some hope.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Catherine said, surprising herself. She slipped into the huge flamboyant room. Chairs with gold-trimmed backs were arranged in neat rows facing the ornate, curved stage. She took a seat near the front and looked around at the noisy crowd. The room would soon be filled to capacity; Catherine guessed it could hold around two hundred people. She looked up at the carved ceilings and massive crown chandeliers. She felt torn between admiration and discomfort, remembering how, when she was a teenager, she’d felt she would never belong here.
She turned to face the stage and was soothed by the image of Thomas Kinkade’s paintings changing on the huge screen like a screen saver on a computer. Within minutes the organizer of the lecture series stepped up to the microphone. She described Olivia’s career and credentials. Catherine looked off to the side of the stage and saw Olivia standing in the wings, meeting her eyes with a heartwarming smile.
When the introduction ended, Olivia took her place center stage to enthusiastic applause. Catherine found herself relaxing, drawn in by Olivia’s warm personality and ease with the crowd.
Olivia concluded her lecture by discussing places where people could get more information about breast cancer. She clicked from one image to the next and Catherine was stunned to see the title Cocoa Cream and all the contact information for the store.
“This place is one of my new favorite discoveries. I highly recommend that anyone who likes to visit the bookstores in the Hillcrest area stop into Cocoa Cream. It’s a fabulous coffee shop and bookstore. Just ask for the owner, Catherine O’Grady, and she’ll be happy to help you find what you’re looking for.” Catherine felt the heat rise to her face. Had Olivia planned to tell her about this, if she hadn’t attended the lecture?
Olivia closed out her PowerPoint presentation and asked to have the lights turned back on. Midway through the question-and-answer session, she signaled to a woman at the back of the room.
The woman stood. “My mother-in-law has been diagnosed with lobular carcinoma in situ of her right breast,” she said. “We’d like to get a second opinion but we’re afraid of insulting or alienating our present doctor. We’re afraid to talk to him about this and we have no clue how to go about having her seen by another specialist. Have you yourself been in this situation with your patients?”
“That’s an excellent question. Yes, two of my patients over the past four years have asked for a second opinion. I would never take that as a professional insult. I see it as families wanting the best for their loved ones. I guided those two families to another specialist. Within two weeks they’d been seen and were back in my office feeling stronger and more self-assured, confident that we were on the right course of treatment. Both those women are breast-cancer survivors and I enjoy seeing them for their return visits. Now, that’s my perspective on a very difficult situation. Is there anyone in the audience who has gone through that situation with a loved one and can share their personal experience?”
A heavy silence filled the room. Catherine rose and was handed a microphone by a gentleman in the aisle. She took a deep breath. “I’m Catherine O’Grady. I’m the owner of Cocoa Cream and I had no idea that Dr. Carrington was going to advertise my bookstore here today.” She glared at Olivia. “Please don’t visit the store all at once. We’ll run out of coffee cups.” The crowd laughed and Catherine turned to face the woman at the back.
“My mother was diagnosed with infiltrating ductal carcinoma of the right breast five years ago by a colleague of Dr. Carrington’s, Dr. Ruth Ratcliff. We were in shock but we wanted a second opinion before we went ahead with any treatment. We talked to Dr. Ratcliff and decided to take my mother to the Hailey Center in Phoenix. It’s an exceptional cancer center. The doctors there were fabulous with us. They reviewed my mother’s mammograms and concurred with Dr. Ratcliff’s diagnosis and plan of care. We needed that reassurance. It definitely empowered us and made us feel even more confident with Dr. Ratcliff. In the bookstore, I have all the contact information for the Hailey Center and other doctors who could give your mother-in-law a second opinion. Before we leave tonight, I’ll give you my business card so you can contact me at your leisure.”
Tears filled the eyes of the woman at the back of the room as she whispered, “Thank you.”
Olivia answered several more questions and thanked everyone for attending. The audience rose and applauded.
Catherine remained standing as the crowd began to file out. A number of women surrounded Olivia on the stage. Catherine reached for her purse beneath her chair and headed for the woman at the back of the room.
Seventeen
OLIVIA SEARCHED THE MAIN FOYER and saw Catherine standing alone on the deck facing the ocean. Her long knit red dress hugged her feminine contours to perfection and sent a rush of heat cascading through Olivia’s chest and belly. No woman had ever affected her on sight the way Catherine did. She filled Olivia with a warmth and need that came from deep within. She was so dynamic and multifaceted. She was challenging, frustrating, and exhilarating. Olivia wanted this woman, but she knew she needed to move slowly. And she knew by the way she was standing that Catherine was humming with barely suppressed anger.
Olivia approached and stood close behind her. “Thank you for coming to the lecture, Catherine. I was really surprised to see you in the audience.”
Catherine continued to stare out at the sailboats dancing with the wind. “And I was really surprised to see Cocoa Cream as part of your presentation. You’re just bent and determined to test me, aren’t you?”
“If that was your idea of a test, you passed with flying colors.”
Catherine slowly turned to face her. “I would’ve liked a little forewarning, Olivia.”
“If you think for one second that I was going to interrupt your dinner with Laura and her family last night to ask your permission to talk about Cocoa Cream, you’re nuts. I’d like to live a long and healthy life.” Olivia touched a strand of Catherine’s hair resting on her shoulder. “Thank you for helping that woman in the audience.”
“I understood what she was going through. It felt right to help her.”
“Do we still have a dinner date—as friends, of course?”
Catherine didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and stared out at the multicolored sails propelling the boats along the choppy waters. She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted to stay mad, and she wanted to keep her heart open. She wanted to be home, curled on her own comfortable couch, and she wanted to be here with Olivia. She took a deep breath. “Sure. Where would you like to eat?”
“Your choice, since you’re so averse to a nice meal at the Coronado.”
“Do you like Mexican?”
“Absolutely. Any place in mind?”
“Do you know Miguel’s? It’s in the courtyard of the old EI Cordova Hotel.”
“No, but I’ve heard about it. Lead the way.”
Catherine felt herself relaxing as they headed south on Orange Avenue with the rest of the crowd, peeking in boutique windows and browsing the specialty shops. She found herself thinking that she and Olivia could in fact be friends, but only if they stayed away from hospitals and lecture halls.
They found the cobblestone path to Miguel’s and were quickly seated in the bustling colorful courtyard. A waiter placed a basket of chips and a dish of traditional salsa and white cheese dip on their table.
Olivia looked around. “This place is amazing.”
Catherine turned Olivia’s menu over for her. “Look at the list of specialty drinks.”
Olivia scanned the list. “‘Millionaire’ and ‘billionaire’ margaritas? I’m surprised you even let us come here. I would think that could just about tip you over the edge.”
“Lucky for you they’re reasonably priced and delicious. I think we should show some restraint and have the millionaire.”
Olivia laughed. Catherine dipped a nacho chip into the thick cheese dip and bit into it with pleasure. “I know it’s not the Coronado, but believe me, the food here is wonderful.”
“Actually, I hate the Coronado.”
Catherine was startled. “What?”
Olivia shrugged. “I used to love it, but the last time I lectured at the Coronado was one of the worst days of my life. Are you up to hearing a long, sad story?”
“Of course.
“It was two years ago. Jessica and I had been together for four years. She works in cancer research. We met when we were both involved in a project for Memorial-Sloan Kettering in New York. Jessica was an only child. She’d met my family and when I talked to her about moving back to San Diego and living in one house with Zoe and Echo she was excited. She was involved in the plans of the new house and we all moved in four years ago.”
Olivia stared down at her cutlery. “It didn’t take long for me to realize it was all too much for Jessica. She’d had me to herself for four years and she wasn’t very happy about sharing me with my family. She began to resent the time we spent with my dads. She began to get very jealous of my close relationships with Zoe and Echo. I offered to move out and get us a house of our own. She didn’t seem too excited by that, either.
“Two years ago, when I’d committed to the lecture series, I booked us a room at the Coronado. I thought we could spend the weekend together and try to work things out between us. Jessica was supposed to meet me there. I was unpacking before my lecture in a beautiful suite, feeling hopeful. Then I found the letter she’d put in my suitcase, telling me she was very unhappy and was moving on.”
