Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [63]
Built like an athlete, tall, lean, and wiry, Andrea had been working through stacks of reports, but she pushed them aside to share in Fran’s joy. “Oh, that’s great news.”
“He’d like French toast, bacon, and eggs. And grape juice. Can he have grape juice and some milk, too?”
“Let me make a couple calls, but I think I can make most of that happen. Let me warn you ahead of time, though: Don’t be surprised when he doesn’t eat more than a few small bites. That’s just typical. Eyes bigger … you know the drill.” She jotted some notes and asked, “Anything else?”
Fran looked away, chewing on her lower lip. As much as she dreaded it, Andrea was the one to ask. “Since he’s so lucid. Obviously not in as much pain this morning. Should Charles and I … should we …?”
“Yes. Now’s the time to talk about his leg. But let Charlie … how shall I put this?” She leaned back in her chair and tapped a pen against the armrest, pausing a moment. “Let Charlie give you the clues about how much he wants to know. Listen for what he says—and more importantly, doesn’t say. That’s how he’ll tell you how much he wants to hear.” Andrea tossed the pen onto the counter and then clasped her hands in front of her. “My guess is he’ll also tell you what he already knows. Which I’m bettin’ is quite a lot.”
Fran nodded. “Thanks, Andrea.” She hurried back to Charlie’s room, wondering if maybe he’d drifted back to sleep. Hoping so? she asked herself. Coward. As she pushed the door open, however, she was surprised to hear the television.
“Figured out the remote, huh? It’s great to see you more alert, Charlie. And before I forget—all the guys have been here. Grant, at least three different times. Riley and Erik and Bryce. Connor. Every single member of the team, actually. Everyone’s pulling for you, Charlie. And they miss you, a lot.”
Charlie clicked off the television. Turned to his mom, his eyes instantly filling with tears.
“Charlie. What is it?”
He pushed his head back against the pillows. Shook his head.
“Are you in pain, love? Should I call the nurse? What can I do?”
He started to say something. Closed his mouth, lips pursed, and then began again. “Why, Mom? Why did they hafta cut off my leg?”
He knew. She felt a stab to her heart once again. “Your leg broke because there was a tumor, Charlie. And it’s—”
“It was cancer,” Charlie completed the sentence matter-of-factly. “But what exactly does that mean? Will I have to have other stuff done?”
“Yes, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“Like what?”
“We don’t know for sure yet. But Dr. Chang thinks chemotherapy will wipe it out. The cancer.”
“There’s more?”
Fran swallowed, feeling the blood draining from her head. Get yourself together, she berated herself. Charlie needs you. She took a deep breath. “Yes, Charlie.”
“It’s in my lungs, isn’t it?”
Fran’s eyes flew wide open. “How did you—”
“Been having trouble breathing.” He sighed. “Sometimes I couldn’t catch my breath when I was running.”
“Charlie, why didn’t you tell your dad and me?”
“I just thought it was … I don’t know. Allergies or something. Thought I needed to get in better shape.”
Fran gently stroked his arm. Fought the pressure of tears pushing at the back of her eyes. “It’s in only one lung—that’s good news.”
He was quiet and pensive a few moments. Fran waited patiently, allowing Charlie to set the agenda. “I, um … saw a show a while back. About a kid who got cancer. Lu … something?”
“Leukemia?”
“Yeah, that was it. She had to have chemo. Lost all her hair.”
“Yes. That usually happens with chemotherapy.” Willed herself not to look at Charlie’s hair … his adorable curls.
“She was really sick a lot too.”
“Dad and I already asked about that. They promised to work really hard at moderating those side effects with some new drugs. Hopefully, you won’t have too many problems, and it’s even possible you won’t be sick at all, love.”
“How will I …” his eyes instantly filling with tears, “will I be able to walk at all? Or will I be in a … wheelchair?”
“Oh, Charlie, from what Dad and I hear, you’ll not only be walking, you