One Mountain Away (46 page)

Taylor was sorry she’d asked. “I don’t see him that way.”

“I know you don’t.”

“He’s always talking about
new
meds.”

“Meds are his stock in trade.”

“But we talked about surgery right at the beginning, and he told me Maddie’s just not a good candidate.”

“How many years ago was that?”

Taylor had to admit that surgery hadn’t come up as an option in years.

“They’ve made huge advances since Maddie was born,” Samantha said. “The technology’s exploded. They can map the brain and pinpoint whatever they need to know. The success rate for cases where surgery’s warranted is sky-high.”

“And what about the cases that aren’t successful?”

“This isn’t my field of expertise, but from everything I’ve seen lately, I’d say she wouldn’t be worse for trying. Didn’t Jeremy tell you the doctors in Nashville thought that even if Maddie has to stay on medication the rest of her life, the surgery and medication combination might cut the seizures to near zero?”

“It could affect her memory, her personality. Would you let somebody operate on Edna? Remove part of her brain?”

“Not if I thought surgery was going to harm her, no. But if I thought it wasn’t, that it might give her a chance she wouldn’t have otherwise to live a more adventurous life? In a heartbeat.”

“But how do I know!”

Samantha let that die away before she answered. “You cooperate with Jeremy and give him credit for loving Maddie, too. You go to Nashville, or, if you’d rather, you go somewhere neutral. And you ask a million questions. You evaluate the program, evaluate the doctors, read everything you can about their success rate, then you make an informed decision. You don’t take the word of one doctor who rarely, if ever, refers his patients to a neurosurgeon.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve looked into it, and that’s his rep.”

Taylor let that sink in. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I’ve tried. You weren’t listening.”

Thinking about it, Taylor realized that in the past few years Samantha
had
suggested second opinions, evaluation at places like Children’s Hospital in Boston or Chicago, or the Cleveland Clinic. But Taylor had been certain Maddie’s treatment was already the best.

“I need to talk to my father about this.” Taylor’s gaze flicked to Maddie, who, mercifully, had climbed down off the dome and was now playing catch with a couple of children and a brightly colored beach ball.

“That’s a good idea.”

Something about the way Samantha said it alerted Taylor to something behind the words. She pushed a little. “Unfortunately, that could be hard. Maddie and I went over to his house this morning, but he wasn’t there. A neighbor said she doesn’t remember seeing Dad’s car in the driveway this weekend.”

“The man has nosy neighbors.”

“No, it’s a good street. They watch out for one another.” Taylor waited, then asked bluntly, “Do you happen to know where he is?”

“This whole conversation’s about as much fun as a knee replacement.”

“Why is it that you seem to know more about my life and choices than I do?”

“Because I’m nice, and people talk to me.”

In a way, that was true. Samantha, because of the mess she’d almost made of her own life, was probably the best listener in Asheville. People were always taking advantage of her. Just as Taylor herself was about to.

“Where is my father?” she asked.

“I would guess he’s with your mother.”

Taylor hadn’t expected that. It felt like a physical blow. “All weekend?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Samantha paused. “Or maybe it is. I don’t want to go there.”

“What are you talking about? Are you saying my mother and father are—” She couldn’t even say it.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, and it’s not my place to tell you.”

“Why isn’t anybody else telling me, then?”

“Really? Because you’ve made it a hundred percent clear you don’t want anything to do with your mother, and you also don’t want your father in the middle. So your relationship with Charlotte’s up to you, and Ethan’s doing exactly what you asked.”

“What about
his
relationship with
her,
then?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“I told you, I can’t find him!” Taylor put her hand on Samantha’s knee, fairly sure her friend was about to bolt. “What’s going on between them?”

“I can’t give you details. I just know I called Charlotte this morning to see how she was, and your father answered the telephone.”

Every response that rose to Taylor’s lips was profane. She was on a playground with children zipping by. She knew better than to open her mouth and let any of them escape.

“Okay, look, I’m tired of this,” Samantha said. “Call Ethan yourself and ask him what’s going on.”

Taylor ignored that. “Why did you call my mother to see how she was doing?”

Samantha didn’t answer.

“Look, I deserve to know.”

“Do you?” Samantha asked. “Why?”

Taylor couldn’t give the obvious answer, that Charlotte was her mother, because she hadn’t let that fact rule any interaction since leaving home. “Because everything she does affects me one way or the other.”

“Interesting.”

“Sam, please, have you taken a vow of silence?”

“You should hear this from Charlotte.”

“What are the chances?”

Samantha thought that over, then she shook her head. “She’s sick. Sick as in maybe she won’t recover. And I guess your dad has decided he wants to be with her while she goes through treatment.”

“Sick?”

“She has leukemia.”

Taylor felt as if someone had punched her. Moments passed before she could breathe again. “Why didn’t somebody tell me?”

“We’ve been through that. And since I’m being honest, I’m going to just finish up and move on. I like your mother. I know a fellow traveler when I see one. I know what it’s like to wish you could make things right after they’ve gone terribly wrong. Charlotte made mistakes. We both know she did, up close and personal, although you know more about why than I do. I just know she’s doing everything she can to try to make up for them.”

“I can’t take this in.”

“You’ll need to.”

“You think I should rush to her side just because she’s sick?”

“I think that’s the last thing she’d want. But if you want to rush to her side because you love her? That would be a good thing.”

Taylor couldn’t think. Maddie, her mother, her mother and father together again…

“Well, she has my father,” she said. “Apparently
he’s
at her side.” Then she thought about Sam’s words. Was Ethan there because Charlotte was sick? Or was he there because, as impossible as it seemed, he still loved her?

“Maddie and I are going to head home,” she said, getting to her feet.

“I think Edna and I will stay awhile.”

Taylor knew she owed Samantha something for her honesty, but right now, she wasn’t sure what.

“We’ll talk,” she said, and it was the best she could do.

“I’m not the one you need to talk to. I think we’re kind of talked out, don’t you?”

Taylor didn’t know how to answer that, so she didn’t. Instead, she went to tell Maddie her visit to the park had ended.

* * *

For two mornings Charlotte had awakened with Ethan’s arms around her. More than a decade had passed since they’d slept in the same bed, but now his presence beside her felt natural and right.

When he’d insisted he was moving into her house and back into her life, Ethan had offered to sleep elsewhere, pointing out that she would rest better without him beside her. But neither of them had really wanted that.

When she had disagreed, he’d eased between the covers and gently pulled her close. Had she not been so sick, she was sure there would have been more. Despite that she found great pleasure knowing he had come to her not because she was an object of pity, but because Ethan was as hungry to find the intimacy they’d cast aside as she was. For now they just settled against each other, leg curving against leg, palm splayed on midriff, her elbow caressing the back of his hand, and found their way into each other’s dreams.

On Saturday morning, while he showered, she went to find Harmony to alert her that Ethan had moved in. Harmony, eyes wide, offered to move out immediately, but Charlotte insisted she couldn’t make it without her. Over a breakfast he cooked, Ethan charmed the young woman, and by the end of the meal, Charlotte could see that having him there would make things easier for Harmony, who felt the burden of Charlotte’s illness more deeply than Charlotte had realized.

On Sunday afternoon after the final chemo injections, Ethan tucked her in bed for a nap and told her he would be back in a couple of hours.

“You must have a million things you need to do.” Charlotte’s eyelids were drooping, and her own words sounded far away.

“I need to pick up more clothes, plus some plans I’m working on.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Can I sneak in anything for dinner?”

“If I were you, I’d stop for takeout if you’re craving anything other than organically grown vegetables. Harmony unearthed a juicer in the butler’s pantry. She’s convinced it will cure me.”

“I can talk to her.”

“Don’t you dare. I’m not eating much, anyway. Doesn’t matter…if it’s celery or spareribs.” She closed her eyes.

Sometime later she heard a soft rapping on her bedroom door. She sat up slowly, because fast movements made the nausea worse. She munched on a cracker after she called, “Come in.”

“There’s somebody here to see you,” Harmony said. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, only she says she’s Samantha’s mother.”

Charlotte swallowed the final crumbs before replying. “Tall, reddish brown hair?”

Harmony nodded.

“Do I feel well enough to slip out the bedroom window?”

“Don’t worry, I can tell her you’re sleeping.”

“I’ll talk to her. Thanks for getting me.”

She didn’t change. She brushed the wrinkles out of the knit pants she’d worn to bed and straightened the T-shirt. She combed her hair and decided nothing short of a facelift was going to make enough of a difference to warrant time and energy. She looked worse than she felt, which said everything.

She found Georgia in the living room, perched on the edge of the sofa as if she might be planning to bolt.

“I hate this room,” Charlotte said.

“Did somebody foist it on you?”

“It’s called a living room, but how much living can anybody really do on a silk-upholstered sofa?”

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Let’s go in the den. No, let’s sit out by the pool. Do you mind? Fresh air…” There was no point in going into the way fresh air seemed to help her nausea. “Feels good,” she finished.

“Sure.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

Charlotte stopped in the kitchen and took out two small bottles of club soda. She had set them on the counter and was reaching for glasses when Georgia rested her hand on Charlotte’s arm.

“We can drink out of the bottles. Please don’t feel you have to entertain me.”

Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment. “I bet you’ve talked to your daughter.”

“Let’s just sit right here.” Georgia pulled out a stool at the center island and gestured in invitation.

Gratefully, Charlotte collapsed.

Georgia came back with the bottles and two glasses she’d found in a cupboard. She opened Charlotte’s and poured it, then did the same for herself. “Sam thought you might be finishing the first round of chemo today,” she said.

Charlotte gave a slow nod, which was less likely to send the room spinning.

“I told the young woman who answered your door not to get you out of bed. I was going to leave you a note.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Why, so you can face an old foe when you’re feeling limp as a dishrag?”

“I think that old saying about not kicking somebody when they’re down is all wrong. I mean, if somebody’s already down, kick away. What’s crueler than waiting until they’re happy again before you haul off and let them have it?”

“Being sick gives you lots of time to think about things like that, does it?”

“More than I’d like.”

“You may not believe this, but I really am sorry you’re going through this.”

Charlotte thought about that. “That’s nice. I’m glad, I think.”

Georgia smiled. It was the first real Georgia smile Charlotte had seen in a long time. She was reminded of the younger woman, ready and eager to take on the job of headmistress. A woman filled with innovative ideas and enough enthusiasm to set every one of them in motion.

“I didn’t just come for the Hallmark moment,” Georgia said. “I needed to thank you in person.”

Charlotte let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. Georgia had discovered the letters of recommendation.

“You’re not angry at me?”

“I was for a little while.”

Charlotte didn’t spare herself. “I knew if I asked, you would tell me to mind my own business. And because I’m trying hard to change, I would have had to back off.”

“So you worked around it.”

“I guess I haven’t learned as much as I thought, because I was sure it was the right thing to do, which is exactly what I thought when I tried to get you fired as headmistress.”

“And succeeded.”

“Unfortunately I’m persuasive.”

“And a meddler.”

“I’m a medal-worthy meddler. I could teach classes.”

“They showed me the letters. At my second interview.”

Charlotte leaned forward, nearly knocking over her water. “
Second
interview?”

“I’m in the running for the job. The committee made it clear I wouldn’t have gotten this far, though, if you hadn’t stepped forward. Even as long ago as that whole episode was, being fired was a black mark. Now they seem to think maybe I was just ahead of my time instead of a screwup.”

“Georgia, I’m so glad. I hope you get the job. I really do.”

“But you’re staying out of it now.” It wasn’t a question.

“You’re sure? My next move was blackmail.”