One Mountain Away (41 page)

“I’m sorry,” he said, but she knew he wasn’t sure for what.

She slid his hand to a safer place. “Don’t be. I…I just have a bruise there.”

He moved away a little. “Still? From the other day?”

“I’ve always bruised easily. Remember?”

He seemed to take that in, and she could almost see him processing what he knew. “And the one on your arm? You still have that?”

Her arms were now an even sadder patchwork of bruises from tests and transfusions and the effects of the leukemia itself. She tried to smile. “You won’t hurt me.”

Ethan looked as if he wanted to believe her, but they had been through too much together. Even now, he knew exactly what a smile meant and how to read it.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing I want to tell you right now.” The spell was broken, and she could feel the change in the air around them. Twilight was no longer their friend, and the soft whisper of the pool fountain was nothing more than an intrusion on silence. She struggled to find a way to turn back time, if only by moments, but that was impossible.

“Suppose you tell me, anyway.” He moved away so he could see her face more clearly.

High overhead she heard a plane, and she wished she were on it, flying anywhere, away from the truth. She wished Ethan could be with her, that they could leave their past and her future here, and live in the present together forever. That was what she’d hoped for when he kissed her, although how she’d thought she could pull it off was impossible, even now, to remember.

She wasn’t sure where to start. With his eyes still locked with hers, he pulled the long-sleeved blouse she was wearing over a tank top down over her shoulders until it hung low around her hips and her arms were bare. He stared at the bruises crawling up her arms, then up at her.

“I’d almost wonder if those needle marks are from some kind of drug habit, only I know you too well. That wouldn’t be your escape of choice. So suppose you tell me what’s going on?”

All she could do was tell the truth, but she still didn’t know how. “I’m afraid it’s about as bad as it looks.”

“And I’m guessing whatever it is didn’t happen suddenly, say in the past few days?”

She met his eyes. “In the spring I was diagnosed with leukemia. I was hospitalized for a month for treatment. I’ll start the second round next week.” The next words caught in her throat, and she shook her head before she could go on. “I’ve only just begun to tell people. I wanted tonight without my diagnosis between us.”

He looked like a man who had stumbled onto a six-lane highway, stunned, injured and slowly moving toward anger. “People, huh? I’m just
people?
How many others have you told?”

“Just a few. Reverend Ana’s known for a while. I just told Harmony and the executive committee at Falconview, so they can begin preparing for the worst, if it happens. And I only told them this morning.”

“Did you tell our daughter in the letter you wrote her?”

“No. No! I don’t want this mixed up in that. I want Taylor to come to me because she understands I’ve changed and she wants us to be a family again.”

“Now that’s the interesting part.
Have
you changed? Because keeping secrets was a big part of who you used to be. Working behind the scenes. Manipulating people. Controlling everything and everybody.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Ethan, please, I’m not trying to control anything, especially not you. I just wanted…no, I
needed
to be with you without talking about my illness. I didn’t plan any of what happened tonight, but when you held me just now, I wasn’t going to thrust that between us.”

He spaced his words for emphasis. “You have had plenty of time to tell me.”

“I couldn’t. Please understand. I just wanted to be happy for a little while. Without worrying that people felt sorry for me, or were trying to be good to me so my death wouldn’t come back to haunt them. Please, can’t you understand?” She wiped the tears off her cheeks with her fingertips, but Ethan was shaking his head.

“I understand I bought the whole act. I really thought you’d changed, yet here you are, making decisions for all of us again. You never once considered I was better than that? That I could tell the difference between pity and love? That I could be kind to you just because you’re worth it, and not because you’re dying?”

She couldn’t think of a reply. Finally she gave the only one she could. “I didn’t want to think about dying. I wanted to be alive. Fully alive, without the shadows hanging over me. At least while we were together.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s way over my head. It’s a lot simpler for me. You’ve been living a lie every time we’ve been together. And I fell for it, because I began to believe in you again.”

He turned and started through the house. She wanted to call him back, to find the magic words to make him understand. But there were none. Even when she heard the front door close, she continued to stand and hope the words would come to her.

But if there had been words, they, like Ethan, were gone forever.

Chapter Thirty-Six

TAYLOR KNEW SHE was treating her daughter’s imminent arrival like Christmas and a birthday all rolled into one. But she had missed Maddie so much, and while the intensity of her feelings had been instructive, she was still glad Maddie was coming home.

Late in the afternoon Maddie called on Jeremy’s cell phone when they’d turned on to I-240, so Taylor was ready with fresh lemonade and cookies right out of the oven when Jeremy pulled up in the borrowed van. She watched the occupants pile out and felt a sliver of distaste that Willow was one of them. She had to jettison the attitude, but apparently today wasn’t launch day.

On the front porch she opened her arms and Maddie ran into them. “I missed you,” Maddie said, hugging her hard.

Taylor hugged her back, then smoothed her hair off her forehead. “It was awfully quiet without you, kiddo.”

“I have a lot to tell you.”

Taylor was of two minds about that. Part of her wanted to hear every detail, and part of her wasn’t so sure. If the narrative included raves about life in Nashville—and she was pretty sure it would—it was going to be hard to look enthused. Try as she might, she hadn’t yet conquered her jealousy. Not of Jeremy and Willow, but of Jeremy, Willow and Maddie.

“We’ll have all evening,” she told Maddie, and gave her another hug. Then Maddie broke loose and dashed through the house. Taylor imagined her goal was to make sure everything was exactly the way she’d left it.

“Sam brought us a bag of clothes Edna’s outgrown,” she called after her. “They’re on your bed.”

“Willow bought me a bunch of stuff, too!” Maddie yelled from the direction of the kitchen.

Taylor steeled herself, but she was almost sure her smile was frozen in place. “How nice of you,” she told Willow.

“My sister owns a shop in the CoolSprings Galleria, and she let me buy at a discount. I couldn’t resist, Taylor. I truly hope you don’t mind.” Willow, arrayed in chartreuse today, blond hair pulled up on top of her head in a rhinestone barrette, looked genuinely concerned.

“Maddie’s fun to shop for,” Taylor said, which was the best she could manage.

“She sure is.”

Jeremy came up to the porch with Maddie’s suitcase, along with a new one that probably held the equally new wardrobe. “We thought maybe Maddie could show Willow the park where she plays. She talked about it all the time.”

Alarm bells went off in Taylor’s head. “Why just Willow?”

“I’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay. And I’d rather Maddie wasn’t here.”

She repressed a number of comments, all of which sounded like,
I have a telephone and you know how to use it.

“Fine,” she said. “But I made lemonade and cookies.”

“We stopped for a snack a little while ago when I got gas. She’ll be fine until they get back. Unless that’s a problem?”

The last part sounded to her like a dare. She could have called his bluff, but she knew it was better to get the conversation out of the way, so Willow and Jeremy could get out of the way, too.

“No problem,” she said.

“Half-pint!” he called.

“Half-pint?” Taylor said.

“She’s addicted to
Little House on the Prairie
reruns. I told her we’d take a trip to Missouri next summer to see the Laura Ingalls Wilder house, if she’s still besotted. She said she has all the books?”

“She does.”

He lowered his voice. “For Christmas we’re going to try to find a doll that looks like Laura. Willow says she can make clothes from the period to give her a
Little House on the Prairie
wardrobe.

Taylor knew Maddie would love that and she wondered what
she
could give her that would be half as good.

She had to stop making comparisons.

Maddie came running out and skidded to a halt. Apparently the tour had been satisfactory.

“Willow wants to see your park,” Jeremy told her. “Do you mind taking her?”

Maddie looked from Taylor to her father. Taylor saw worry lines crease her forehead, and she reached out and touched her daughter’s shoulder. “Go ahead, hon. We’ll have cookies and lemonade when you get back.”

“It’s okay?” Maddie asked.

Taylor knew she had to support Jeremy. “If your daddy says it’s okay, of course it is.”

Maddie looked relieved. “Come on, Willow.”

Jeremy waited until their voices faded before he spoke. “Let’s go in and sit.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“Don’t decide ahead of time. I’m not planning to run off with her, but there
is
something we need to discuss.”

Inside she motioned to the sofa, and they sat, a large space between them. She tried to remember the last time a man other than her father had sat here. The resulting revelation—that it had been her sixty-nine-year-old landlord—wasn’t a good one.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so I can’t edge into this,” Jeremy said. “While Maddie was with me, I took her to Vanderbilt to have her epilepsy treatment evaluated. I was able to get the appointment a couple of months ago.”

Her mind went blank. Only the last part of his last sentence resonated. “A couple of months ago? And you never said a thing?”

“Vanderbilt has a pediatric epilepsy monitoring unit, Taylor. Believe it or not, they do everything they can to make the experience fun. They had all her medical records, too. She was only in for a couple of days, and I was with her 24/7.”

Maddie had said nothing about this, and Taylor was pretty sure why. “You told her not to tell me, didn’t you?”

“I told her the news should come from me. And I think you’ll agree that was wise.”

His words were like small explosions in her head. They continued to resound, and anger seized her. “What wasn’t wise? Trying to pull this off without me! Who do you think you are to—”

“I’m her
father,
and I’ve been left out of pretty much every decision about her treatment.”

“I’ve always kept you informed!”

“Do you hear the difference? You’ve
informed
me. You haven’t
consulted
me. I needed to be sure
our
daughter was getting the right treatment for a condition that’s affecting her life.”

“Why, Jeremy? Can’t you love her the way she is? Do you and Willow need a perfect little girl to show off to your friends?”

The room fell silent. Taylor could see him working to contain his response. Despite herself, she felt a stab of guilt.

“I’m sorry, but how could you do this without asking?” she said at last.

“I knew if I asked, you would refuse.”

She tried to think about what was best here. She and Jeremy could continue to argue about their rights, or they could move on. The argument wasn’t settled, but she was almost sure they were only at the beginning of his news.

“All right,” she said, as calmly as she could. “What did they say?”

“Despite what you may think, I was only willing to go so far in the evaluation without consulting you. The next step will be surgery to place a grid to help them determine
exactly
where the seizures are coming from. Then they can decide where to go from there.”

He continued to speak, even as she tried to interrupt. “Taylor, please, I know how this sounds, but don’t panic. The news so far is really positive. The neurology team thinks surgery to correct the problem is a good option. And if they can’t correct it, they’ll be able to lessen the impact, so the seizures can be controlled with medication. She could be seizure-free. They’ll know more after the next round of evaluations, but—”

“Next round? You mean opening up Maddie’s skull so they can root around inside it?”

He fell silent again.

“She’s not a broken doll, Jeremy. She’s a human being, and you’re talking about destroying part of her brain. What if it doesn’t work, and she’s worse off when they’ve finished experimenting on her?”

His patience evaporated. “For God’s sake, this is
not
an experiment! That’s why they’re so thorough when they test. Every surgery has risks, sure, even an appendectomy, but do you think I’d suggest we continue on this road if she was going to be harmed by anything we do?”

“If surgery was an option, I would know. Don’t you think I would know? Until now I’ve handled all the medical stuff.”

“I think your neurologist is old-fashioned and overly cautious. I think advances are happening every day, and he’s not keeping up with them. I think Vanderbilt, which is dedicated to working with kids like Maddie, keeps up with every single one. They know the moment a discovery’s made and when it’s safe to use it in treatment.”

“No. It’s too dangerous. Hers isn’t an easy case. I’ve read—”

“
You
are not a doctor.
I
am not a doctor. We have to let doctors give us all the options, then weigh them together and make the right decision.”

She was so frightened that she couldn’t think of anything except no. So she said it again. Louder this time.

He stared, then he shook his head. “This is what comes of children having children.”