Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [147]
She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “I'm Meghann Dontess,” she said by way of introduction. “I'm sure you've forgotten me. I haven't talked to you since . . . oh . . . the ninth grade, I think. That's when I prayed for enough money to get Claire ballet lessons. Then Mama got fired again and we moved on. I . . . stopped believing you could help.” She thought of Claire upstairs, so pale and tired-looking in that hospital bed, and of the risks the surgery entailed. “She's one of the good ones, God. Please. Protect her. Don't let Ali grow up without her mom.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Tears slid down her cheeks and plopped on her hands. She wanted to say more, maybe find a way to bargain, but she had nothing to offer beyond desperation.
Behind her, the door opened, closed. Someone walked down the aisle.
Meghann wiped her eyes and eased back onto the pew.
“Meg?”
She looked up, surprised. Sam stood beside her, his big body hunched in defeat, his eyes a watery red. “She's saying good-bye to her girlfriends.”
“I know.”
“I can't stand watching each one come out of her room. The minute they close the door, their smiles fade and the crying starts.”
Meghann had run from the same thing. “She's lucky to have so many friends.”
“Yeah. Can I join you?”
She sidled to the right, making room. He sat down beside her. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, but they didn't touch, didn't speak.
Finally Sam said, “I was thirty years old when you called me.”
She frowned. “Oh.” What did he want her to say?
“I had no brothers and sisters and no other children.”
“I know that, Sam. You pointed it out every time I screwed up.”
He sighed. “I was pissed at Eliana. She'd denied me my daughter's childhood. All those years I'd been alone when I didn't have to be . . . and the way you and Claire lived from hand to mouth. I couldn't stand it.”
“I know that.”
He twisted around to face her. “Claire was easy. She looked up at me with those big, trusting eyes and said, Hi, Daddy; just like that, I fell in love. But you.” He shook his head. “You scared the shit out of me. You were tough and mouthy and you thought everything I said to Claire was wrong. I didn't know you were just being a teenager. I thought you were like . . .”
“Mama.”
“Yeah. And I didn't want Claire to be hurt. It took me a while—years—to see that you weren't like Ellie. By then it was too late.”
“Maybe I am like Mama,” she said quietly.
“No,” he said fiercely. “You've been Claire's rock through this nightmare. You have the kind of heart that saves people, even if you don't believe it. And I'm sorry I didn't see that when I was younger.”
“A lot of things have become clearer lately.”
“Yeah.” He sat back in the pew. “I don't see how I'll get through this,” Sam said.
Meghann had no answer. How could she, when the question haunted her as well?
A few minutes later, the door opened again. This time it was Bobby. He looked terrible.
“She wants to see Ali,” he whispered harshly. “I can't do it.”
Sam made a fluttery sound. “Oh, God.”
“I'll do it,” Meg said, slowly rising.
Claire must have fallen asleep again. When she woke, the sunlight outside had faded, leaving the room a soft, silvery color.
“Mommy's awake.”
She saw her daughter then. Ali clung to Meghann like a little monkey, arms wrapped around her aunt's neck, feet locked around her waist.
Claire made a quiet, whimpering sound before she rallied and pulled out a tired smile. The only way to get through this moment was to pretend there would be another. For Ali, she had to believe in a miracle.
“Hey there, Ali Kat. I hear you're eating all the cinnamon rolls in the cafeteria.”
Alison giggled. “Only three, Mommy. Aunt Meg said if I had one more I'd throw up.”
Claire opened her arms. “Come here, baby.”
Meg leaned forward and gently deposited Ali into Claire's thin arms. She hugged her daughter