Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [132]
“Claire flew all around the country seeing the best doctors. I know she's going to get better. It won't be like . . . you know.”
“Like Diana,” he said into the uncomfortable silence.
Gina came up behind him, touched his shoulder. “I tried to protect you from this. I'm sorry.”
He stared out the window at the backyard designed for children. Once, he and Diana had dreamed of bringing their babies here to play.
“Maybe you'd like to go see Claire.”
“No,” he said so quickly, he knew Gina understood. “My time in hospitals is done.”
“Yeah,” Gina said, “now let's go watch a funny movie.”
He slipped an arm around his sister and pulled her in close. “I could use a laugh.”
Meghann sat in the chair that had once felt so comfortable and stared at Dr. Bloom.
“It was all bullshit,” she said bitterly. “All my appointments with you. They were just a way for a self-obsessed woman to vent about the mistakes she'd made in her life. Why didn't you ever tell me that none of it mattered?”
“Because it does matter.”
“No. I was sixteen years old when all that happened. Sixteen. None of it matters—my fear, my guilt, her resentment. Who cares?”
“Why doesn't it matter anymore?”
Meghann closed her eyes, reaching for a bitterness that had moved on. All she felt was tired, lost. “She's sick.”
“Oh.” The word was a sigh. “I'm sorry.”
“I'm afraid, Harriet,” Meghann finally admitted. “What if . . . I can't do it?”
“Do what?”
“Stand by her bed and hold her hand and watch her die? I'm terrified I'll let her down again.”
“You won't.”
“How do you know that?”
“Ah, Meghann. The only person you ever let down is yourself. You'll be there for Claire. You always have been.”
It wasn't entirely true. She wished it were. She wanted to be the kind of person who could be depended upon.
“If I were ill, there's no one I'd rather have in my corner, Meghann. You're so busy swimming in old sorrows that you haven't bothered to come up for air. You've made up with Claire, whether you two have said the words or not. You're her sister again. Forgive yourself and go forward.”
Meghann let the advice sink in. Then, slowly, she smiled. It was true. This wasn't the time for fear and regret; she'd spent too many years on that already. These were days that called for hope and, for once, she was going to be strong enough to believe in a happy ending for Claire. No running away from potential heartache. That was the mistake Meg had made in her marriage. She'd feared a broken heart so keenly that she'd never given the whole of her love to Eric.
“Thanks, Harriet,” she said at last. “I could have bought a Mercedes for what you charged me, but you've helped.”
Harriet smiled. It surprised Meg, made her realize that she'd never seen her doctor smile before. “You're welcome.”
Meghann stood up. “So. I'll see you next week, same time?”
“Of course.”
She walked out of the office, went down the elevator, and emerged into the July sunlight.
Slinging her handbag over her shoulder, she headed for home.
She was almost there when she happened to look up. Across the street, the small park near the Public Market was a hive of activity. College-age kids playing hackey sack, tourists feeding the dive-bombing seagulls, shoppers taking a rest. She wasn't sure what had caught her eye and made her look.
Then she saw him, standing at the railing. His back was to her, but she recognized his faded jeans and denim shirt. He was probably the only man in downtown Seattle to wear a cowboy hat on a sunny day.
She crossed the street and walked up to him. “Hey, Bobby.”
He didn't look at her. “Meg.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“She's sleeping.” Finally, he turned. His eyes were watery, red. “She threw up for almost an hour. Even when there was nothing left to vomit. Don't worry, I cleaned it up.”
“I wasn't worried,” Meg said.
“She looks bad today.”
“Some days are worse than others. I bet Nashville looks pretty good about now,” she said, trying to lighten his mood.
“Is that supposed to be funny? My wife is puking and her hair is falling out. You think