Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [126]
“I already know more about your condition than that first idiot we saw.”
Claire came into the room, carefully stepping over the empty Amazon boxes and the magazines that had been discarded. She stared down at the filled legal pads and inkless pens. “No wonder you're the best lawyer in the city.”
“I research well. I'm really starting to understand your condition. I've made you a kind of abstract—a synopsis of everything I've read.”
“I think I better read it for myself, don't you?”
“Some of it's . . . hard.”
Claire reached for the standing file on the left side of the desk. In it was a manila file with the word Hope emblazoned in red ink on the notched label. She picked it up.
“Don't,” Meg said. “I've just started.”
Claire opened the file. It was empty. She looked down at Meghann.
“This goes in it,” Meg said quickly, ripping several pages out of her notebook. “Tamoxifen.”
“Drugs?”
“There must be people who beat brain tumors,” Meghann said fiercely. “I'll find every damn one and put their stories in there. That's what the file is for.”
Claire leaned over, picked up a blank piece of paper. On it, she wrote her name, then she placed the paper in the file and returned the file to its stand.
Meg stared up at her sister in awe. “You're really something. You know that?”
“We Sullivan girls are tough.”
“We had to be.”
Meg smiled. For the first time all day, she felt as if she could draw an easy breath. “You want to watch a movie?”
“Anything except Love Story.”
Meg started to rise.
The doorbell rang.
She frowned. “Who could that be?”
“You act like no one ever visits you.”
Meghann sidled past Claire and walked to the door. By the time she got there, the bell had rung another eight times. “Damn good doorman,” she muttered, opening the door.
Gina, Charlotte, and Karen stood clustered together.
“Where's our girl?” Karen cried out.
Claire appeared and the screaming began. Karen and Charlotte surged forward, mumbling hello to Meghann, then enfolding Claire in their arms.
“Sam called us,” Gina said when she and Meghann were alone in the hallway. “How is she?”
“Okay, I guess. The radiation went well, I think. She goes every day for four weeks.” At Gina's frightened look, Meghann added, “She didn't want to worry you guys.”
“Yeah, right. She can't be alone for a thing like this.”
“I'm here,” Meghann answered, stung.
Gina squeezed her arm. “She'll need all of us.”
Meghann nodded. Then she and Gina looked at each other.
“You call me. Whenever,” Gina said quietly.
“Thanks.”
After that, Gina eased past Meg and went into the living room, saying loudly. “Okay, we've got spas-in-a-bucket, gooey popcorn balls, hilarious movies, and, of course, games. What should we do first?”
Meghann watched the four best friends come together; they were all talking at once. She didn't move toward them, and they didn't call out to her.
Finally, she went back to her office and shut the door. As she sat there, reading the latest literature on chemotherapy and the blood-brain barrier, she heard the high, clear sound of her sister's laughter.
She picked up the phone and called Elizabeth.
“Hey,” Meg said softly when her friend answered.
“What is it?” Elizabeth asked. “You're too quiet.”
“Claire,” was all she could say before the tears came.
Joe sat sprawled across the sofa, drinking a beer. His third. Mostly, he was trying not to think.
The ephemeral chance for redemption—the one that only last week had glittered in front of him like a desert oasis beside a long, hot highway—had vanished. He should have known it was a mirage.
There would be no starting over. He didn't have the guts for it. He'd thought, hoped, that with Meg he'd be stronger.
“Meg,” he said her name softly, closed his eyes. He said a prayer for her and her sister. It was all he could really do now.
Meg.
She wouldn't clear out of his mind. He kept thinking of her, remembering, wanting. It was what had sent him reaching for the bottles of beer.
It wasn't that he missed her, precisely. Hell, he didn't