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The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [104]

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Janine shook her head. “If Sophie was a candidate, her doctor would have told me. He keeps up with all the research that’s going on.”

“Well, this was something about alternative medicine,” Lucas said. “I didn’t get all the details, but I did memorize the phone number, just in case it might apply to Sophie.”

“Her doc would never go the alternative route.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth looking into, though?” he asked. “At least checking it out to see what it’s all about?”

Janine felt tired. People were always telling her that Sophie should be doing this or doing that to get better. Join a prayer circle, drink water mixed with molasses, take some special, expensive supplement that had cured someone’s sister’s best friend’s father of shingles and tapeworm.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“You’re worn out from all this, aren’t you?” Lucas looked sympathetic.

She nodded.

“Well, just to satisfy my own curiosity, would it be okay if I checked into it a little further? I’ll get the information and pass it on to you, and you can decide if it’s worth anything or not. The study sounded legit and kind of exciting. Really, it did.”

“Sure,” she said. “Just please don’t give me any grief if I don’t want to pursue it. Okay?”

“It’s a deal,” he said.

Without any warning, and without really knowing why, she suddenly began to cry. She turned away from him, raising a tissue to her face, embarrassed by how little control she had over her emotions these days.

He didn’t budge from his side of the table.

“What’s that all about?” he asked her gently, when her tears began to subside.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Finally she blew her nose and turned to face him again. “I’m so frustrated,” she said. “We’ve tried so many different treatments, but her need for dialysis keeps increasing. And the medications she’s on keep making her sicker and sicker. You’ve seen it. You know what she’s going through. And you—and I—know how this is going to end. Maybe she’ll live another six months, maybe a year. It’s all I think about. How unfair this is. What did she do to deserve this? When am I going to lose her? How will I bear it?”

He reached across the table and took her hand. It was not the first time he had touched her, but it was the first time she’d felt more than friendship in that touch.

“Janine,” he said. “Right now, this weekend, what is Sophie doing?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, puzzled. “I told you, she’s with Joe.”

“And you said he’d probably take her to a movie and to see the Christmas lights. Today she’s alive. Today she’s having a good time with her dad. And when all you can focus on is what the future holds, you lose today, for both yourself and Sophie. If your life is tied up in worrying about the future, you never enjoy what’s possible right now.”

She sat back in her chair, the truth of his words washing over her. In the last three years, she’d been ruled by worry. She could not remember a single moment she’d enjoyed in and of itself, without it being tinged by the bittersweet realization that she was, in all likelihood, going to lose her daughter. It was not the first time she’d heard the advice to live for the moment, but it was the first time she felt her spirit rise at the thought.

“Embrace every day,” Lucas said.

“Do you do that?”

“I sure try to,” he said. “Some days with more success than others.”

“Did something happen to you that made you that way?” she asked. “I mean, unless someone’s faced adversity, how do they ever get to that realization?”

“Some lucky people get there without suffering, I guess. But yes, I’ve faced adversity.” He fell silent, looking at their hands instead of her face, and although she wanted to know more, she didn’t pry.

Instead, she felt a smile cross her face. Sophie was alive now, as Lucas had said, and this day was full of precious moments. No matter what tomorrow might bring, Sophie still had today.

“I feel so much better,” she said, surprised that such a simple thought could touch her so profoundly.

He raised his eyes to hers again, not speaking, his hand still holding

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