The Sisterhood - Michael Palmer [118]
Christine sat up, then pulled an edge of her robe across her lap. “David, I want you to know how much this day has meant to me.” His eyes narrowed. “You know I didn’t plan it this way, don’t you?” He nodded. She saw the tightness in his face and the moist film over his eyes. “All of a sudden I feel … sort of selfish—even cruel.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve allowed this to happen, knowing every minute it was going to end.”
“You haven’t exactly been alone,” he said huskily.
“No, I guess not.…” Her voice trailed away. “David,” she said at last, “I’m going back in the morning.”
“One more day.” His response was so quick that they both knew the thought had already been in his mind.
Christine shook her head. “I don’t think that would be fair—to either of us. I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been feeling it too. All day. My mind keeps flip-flopping from fantasies of what I want to have happen to the reality of what I know is going to. Staying here—even another day—will only make it hurt more when I go. I’ve caused you enough pain already.”
“I don’t want you to leave.” He was battling the truth in what she had said. He knew it. Still, he was unable to stem the torrent of words. “It … it just isn’t safe. Joey told you that last night. Vincent is loose somewhere in Boston. He’s looking for me, and, as likely as not, he’s looking for you, too. If we go back, we’d have to go straight to Dockerty. And what would we tell him? We can’t go back yet. Hell, Chris, we don’t have to go back ever. We could take off. Right now. Tonight. We could go to Canada or … or to Mexico. I speak some Spanish. Maybe we could open a little clinic somewhere. Practice together. What good would it possibly do to go back now?”
She kissed him lightly. “It wouldn’t work, David. You know that as well as I do. My Sisterhood has done some terrible things. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to stop them. I only hope I can find a way to do it without hurting all those nurses like me who believed—”
“Dammit, there must be another way!” David stiffened, then muttered an apology for the outburst and sank into the cushion. She was right. The rational, logical part of him understood that. If their circumstances were reversed, he knew, he would be saying the same things. But at the moment the rational, logical part of him was not controlling his tongue.
“Look,” he said, “maybe there is another way. Maybe we could go off somewhere safe and you could send what information you have to Dockerty or … or to Dr. Armstrong. Sure, that’s it—Dr. Armstrong. She’s been a friend and a help to me since this whole nightmare started. If anyone could help us convince the authorities about The Sisterhood’s existence, she could.” In spite of himself, the idea actually began to take hold. “Chris, the woman would be perfect. You heard it yourself that night on Four South. She’s absolutely set against euthanasia. For all we know, if someone of Dr. Armstrong’s stature comes out against them, the Sisterhood people might decide it was time to fold up the organization all together. We could write to her and she could—”
“David, please. Don’t do this.”
“No, wait, hear me out. Just let me finish. Charlotte Thomas wanted to die. As far as we can tell, she was going to die no matter what. Oh, maybe another day of misery or a few agonizing weeks, but she was going to die.” Inside, David’s mental voice began begging him to listen to the thoughtlessness of what he was saying, to the pressure he was putting on her. The pleas went unheeded. “From what you know of the woman, do you think she would want you, want us, to have our chance together snuffed out because you helped her accomplish what she simply didn’t have the strength to do herself? Just another day or two to think things over. That’s all I’m asking. We’ll find another way, or we’ll go back and face things together. At least let’s wait until we hear from Joey. Maybe he’ll find out Vincent’s in jail somewhere after all.”
She