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Kaylie chortled again. Greg had her now. The second oldest, he had a way with all the other kids. It had taken Elle a while to tell the boys apart, but Kaylie acted as if she’d known them all her life.

  Her baby was missing a shoe again, her tummy was showing and one pant leg was up around her knee. She’d refused to take a nap, and would be a grouch tonight. Right now, she was in her glory.

  “What is she, like my second cousin?”

  Elle thought Kaylie was his first cousin once removed. Or something like that. “How would I know?” she asked. “Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know you existed.”

  Surprisingly, he didn’t take offense. “We’ve all heard about you forever.”

  Forever.

  Elle held her sigh inside. It squeezed through a crack deep in her chest, crowding in alongside the really bad feeling she’d been having ever since she’d spoken to her doctor back home.

  Everyone didn’t have forever.

  CHAPTER 9

  C laire tapped the playing cards on Mya’s kitchen table and began to deal. “Deuces are wild. Jacks or better to open.”

  “In English, if you don’t mind,” Suzette said with uncharacteristic huffiness.

  While Claire explained the terminology, Mya settled Kaylie on her lap and opened the new picture book her mother had brought with her tonight.

  “Why didn’t you just say twos can be anything and you can’t start bidding without a pair of jacks?”

  “You’re the one who wanted to play poker.”

  With a sigh, Suzette gathered up her cards. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. Did I tell you I’m thinking about trying one of those online dating services?”

  Claire raised one eyebrow slightly. “Can you spell desperate?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little desperation,” Suzette insisted. “Isn’t that right, Millicent?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  Mya, Claire and Elle all smiled, although Elle’s lacked brightness. She looked tired to Mya. Of course she did! The trip to Keepers Island had been draining for both of them. Being back on the island and seeing Dean and all the others had left Mya strangely unsettled.

  So, what else was new?

  Millie said, “I must admit Sunday nights have been a little long since I found out Porter is married. The jerk. I draw the line when it comes to seeing married men, let me tell you.”

  “Sometimes being a woman isn’t easy.” Suzette sighed again.

  She didn’t get any argument there.

  “I guess I’m just bored. What would a single man do if he found himself bored and alone on a Sunday night like this?”

  Everyone took turns shooting her a certain look.

  “You people are disgusting.”

  “Everything disgusting aside,” Millie said, “a man would probably drive on down to his favorite bar, pull up a chair around a table in the back of the room, order a few rounds, smoke a smelly cigar and ante up.”

  Mya doubted this scenario had much in common with men’s poker night. For one thing, the only alcoholic beverages in her refrigerator were wine coolers. And her playing cards had daisies on the backs. And although Millie and Claire chewed on the Cuban cigars Millicent found in her big red purse, they didn’t light up because of the danger secondhand smoke posed to Kaylie, who by all rights should have been in bed. They all should have been in bed. Claire and Suzette had school in the morning. Mya had to open Brynn’s, Millie her hair salon. For whatever reason, no one was in a hurry to leave.

  Lulled to sleep by the drone of the ferryboat’s engine and the rocking motion of the waves during the ride from the island, Kaylie had slept the entire way. Wide-awake now, she was making a game of choosing a different lap to sit on.

  “Look, Kaylie.” Mya pointed at a brightly colored page in the new picture book. “Ball.”

  Kaylie pointed, too. “Da.”

  “Are you going to read to your granddaughter?” Millie asked. “Or are you going to ante up?”

  Mya did both.

  Suzette sighed again. “You don’t look old enough to be her grandmother.”

  “I prefer to think of myself as her nana. Can you say nana, Kaylie?”

  The baby pointed a dainty finger at another page in the book. “Da.”

  Everyone laughed as if she’d just discovered the secret of Stonehenge. Elle sat across the table, silently watching. It seemed somebody brought another gift for Kaylie every day. Tonight, she wore the new pajamas Mya had given her. The palest of blues, they had ruffles on the seat and yellow rosebuds on the collar. The colors matched her eyes and hair almost perfectly. Although Mya’s eyes were brown, the resemblance was uncanny.

  Two weeks ago, Mya hadn’t known how to hold a baby. Now she did it with ease. “Hit me again, Claire,” she said, tossing in two cards before turning her attention back to the picture book and Kaylie.

  Elle had been doing a lot of thinking since leaving the island. It was giving her a headache. Her oncologist had said there were still options and plenty of hope. She’d heard that before. While undergoing treatment, she’d met other people who’d heard it before, too. Some had believed it all the way to the end. Reality hung like a thin chill in the back of her mind. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do. She only knew she would do what was best for her baby. If she—she couldn’t bring herself to think the d word. If she succumbed to the worst-case scenario, Kaylie would need a family. Elle couldn’t seem to get something Cole had said out of her mind. Neither Dean nor Mya had ever married anyone else.

  Why hadn’t they? Could their young love have been the forever kind? Was there such a love?

  “Have you seen or heard from Jeffrey?” Suzette asked.

  “Jeffrey?” Mya asked. “No. He’s probably replaced me by now.”

  “Like you replaced him?” Elle asked.

  Mya shot her a quieting look.

  “You’ve replaced Jeffrey?” Claire asked.

  “You’re seeing someone else?” Suzette chimed in at the same time.

  And Elle said, “Did you leave the stereo on, Mya?”

  Suzette wasn’t amused or deterred. “Who are you seeing? Don’t tell me it’s another doctor.”

  “I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “She’s not lying there,” Elle agreed. “She probably had her eyes closed when they were kissing.”

  Mya gaped at Elle. “You saw us?”

  “Then it’s true?” Suzette asked.

  “Who did Elle see you kiss?” Millie quipped, getting in on the interrogation.

  When Mya didn’t answer, Millicent repeated the question to Elle. Holding up both hands in a show of innocence, Elle glanced at Mya. “If you wanted it to be a secret, you shouldn’t have kissed him in broad daylight where everyone could see.”

  “I didn’t know anyone could see us. And I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.”

  “Who?” Suzette asked.

  “Where?” Claire said at the same time.

  “On the mouth,” Elle said. “Oh, you mean geographically? Where has she been lately?”

  Claire and Suzette looked at Elle. They looked at each other. And then they looked at Mya.

  “You’ve been to your island,” Claire said drolly.

  “It isn’t my island.”

  “You kissed Elle’s father, didn’t you?”

  “He’s my birth father.”

  They paid as much attention to the warning in Elle’s voice as they had to Mya’s moments earlier. Ever droll, Claire said, “This we’ve got to hear.”

  Mya moved her cards out of Kaylie’s reach. “There isn’t anything to tell. Dean and I talked. We argued. Our lips met. And then he basically called me an old habit that’s hard to break.”

  It didn’t seem to Elle as if it was an old habit that was hard to break. It seemed to her it was an old feeling that neither of them had been able to fully bury.

  “So when are you visiting the island again?” Suzette asked.

  Mya looked at Elle. �
�It’s up to you.”

  Kaylie grinned at Elle from Mya’s lap. They really could have been mother and daughter. Feeling small and somehow already forgotten, Elle said, “I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t you like them?” Millicent asked.

  “They were okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “They were great, all right?”

  “What, then?”

  These people were starting to get on Elle’s nerves. “I have some things to do first.”

  “Like what?” Suzette asked.

  “Like keep my appointment at Portland Memorial.”

  Every female around the table stared. Even Kaylie.

  Elle wanted to kick herself. But it was too late to take it back. She uttered a word she’d been trying not to say in front of Kaylie.

  “You have an appointment?” Millicent finally asked.

  Mya said nothing, but her gaze locked with Elle’s.

  Elle shrugged. She glanced at her cards and tossed in two chips. “I call your bet, Mya. And I raise you ten.”

  “This appointment,” Millicent said, removing her unlit cigar from her mouth. “It’s just routine, right?”

  She hadn’t planned to get into this tonight. “Not exactly.”

  “What, exactly?” Millie asked a little too loudly.

  Elle let her gaze travel all the way around the table. Mya, Millicent, Claire and Suzette stared back at her, waiting, leaving her no way out.

  Oh, what the hell. “It seems I’m out of remission again.”

  Every one of them reacted in her own way, sincerely, completely, with horror and with dread.

  “Don’t look so stricken,” Elle said. “I told you when I arrived I didn’t think this round of chemo was working.”

  “Are you sure?” Millicent asked in a choked voice.

  “My doctor ordered some tests before I left Pennsylvania. He called a few days ago with the results.”

  Mya finally spoke. “You’ve known for a few days?”

  Elle’s throat closed up until she could only nod.

  Mya tossed down her cards. The others all did the same.

  “Are you all folding?” Elle asked.

  “Da.” Kaylie grinned like the genius she was.

  Out of the mouths of babes.

  Portland Memorial was spacious and spotless and was filled with stainless steel, state-of-the-art equipment. Intellectually, Mya knew good things happened in hospitals. But the saddest and most difficult thing she’d ever done had taken place in a setting very similar to this one. The whisper of the unknown made today’s visit even worse.

  Elle sat, terribly quiet and utterly still beside Millicent in a vinyl chair in the reception area in one of the most modern and cutting-edge cancer hospitals in the northeast. Too keyed up to sit, Mya walked the floor with Kaylie. Ever since she’d learned of Elle’s illness, Mya hadn’t allowed herself to think the worst. She’d done everything she could to keep from thinking about it at all. She’d convinced herself the future had started anew when Elle had knocked on her door a few short weeks ago. It wasn’t nearly as easy to be naive here.

  They weren’t the only people waiting. Wearing a yellow baseball cap to cover her baldness, a woman about Mya’s age sat alone on the other side of the room. Not far from her, an elderly man clutched a stainless steel bowl in one hand, his frail wife lending her strength by holding his other hand. Closer were two other women, one middle-aged, one young, both also without their hair. Although ravaged, they were talkative and upbeat. Mya tried not to shy away, but she didn’t want to know their stories because then this nightmare would be real.

  It was Wednesday, and minutes ticked slowly by. She’d left her part-time clerk in charge at Brynn’s. Claire and Suzette promised to relieve her when school let out for the day.

  Mya wished Elle would let down her guard enough to allow her closer, but Elle sat in stony silence, invisible barricades firmly in place.

  Kaylie discovered some toys in a corner near Elle, and Mya settled down with her to watch her play. Focusing on Kaylie allowed her to think about something besides the horror she was trying to hold firmly at bay.

  Dear God. Please.

  She knew when Dean arrived, for every head in the place turned. He strode directly to Elle, but said nothing. She could see him making his assessment in one all-encompassing glance around the room.

  A name was called. And the woman in the yellow baseball cap rose. Dean took her seat directly opposite Elle. Settling back, he propped an ankle on his opposite knee and jiggled his foot. That lasted for about two seconds before he changed positions, leaned ahead, elbows resting on his thighs, fingers clasped loosely between his spread knees.

  Elle finally spoke. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  His glance at Mya told everyone who’d called him. But like Elle, he said very little.

  Kaylie crawled to him. Grasping his pant leg, she pulled herself to her feet then stared solemnly at him without making a sound. Staring back, he was the first to smile. The silent exchange was so poignant Mya bit her lip and had to look away.

  A nurse finally called Elle’s name. Elle, Mya and Millicent rose. Dean stood last, bringing Kaylie up with him. They all stopped suddenly, uncertain how to proceed.

  The friendly nurse said, “The whole family might as well come on back.”

  Mya waited for Elle to dispute the terminology. Saying nothing, the girl started after the nurse. Scooping up Kaylie’s diaper bag, Mya fell into step on one side of Elle, Millicent on the other, Dean and Kaylie close behind. As they made their way through the labyrinth of unfamiliar hallways, footsteps muffled in the carpet, eyes fixed straight ahead so that the subdued and restful artwork lining the walls blurred in their peripheral vision, Mya almost wished Elle had disputed it. This new acquiescence chilled her to the bone.

  “This is all I need from you right now, Elle,” the perky nurse said after taking Elle’s weight, temperature and vitals. “I’ll put the results with your file and tell Dr. Andrews you’re here. He’s leading edge, and wonderful, but nobody that brilliant has the right to be so handsome, too. We’re all madly in love with him. Trust me, you’ll drool.”

  She left them in a spacious room with comfy sofas and snacks and beverages. Helping herself to a soda, Millicent said, “For a second there I thought she was Suzette.”

  Nobody felt like smiling.

  Surprisingly, the doctor didn’t keep them waiting long. Shaking hands all around, he patted Kaylie’s head last. The nurse was right about one thing. The man was drop-dead gorgeous, but under the circumstances, Kaylie was the only one who drooled.

  Bryce Andrews wore his blond hair cropped short. Slightly older than Dean, he’d graduated from Harvard, and he looked it. His shoes were imported, his blue eyes as steady and direct as his approach to his chosen profession. Former college roommates, he and Elle’s oncologist back home had kept in touch, personally and professionally, as evidenced by the extent of his knowledge regarding her case. His disappointment that Elle’s last round of chemo hadn’t been as effective as they’d hoped seemed sincere.

  “The lymphoma is knocking on your door again. We’re going to try to knock it right back out again. I’m ordering a spinal tap. We’ll need to do a bone marrow biopsy but I want to see the spinal fluid first.” He spoke of intrathecal medication, induction, consolidation and new combinations of chemotherapy, and if those failed, stem cell and bone marrow transplantation.

  Even Kaylie seemed impressed, sitting quietly on Dean’s lap.

  The physician looked at each of them. “We need to move, but we don’t need to panic. Before I continue, do you have any questions?”

  Mya, Dean and Millicent shook their heads, for theirs wasn’t a question they could say out loud.

  Elle said, “Are you married, Doctor?”

  Other than his Rolex, his only jewelry was a platinum wedding band that had flashed throughout the consultation. “Yes, I am.”

  Elle glanced at Mya.
“No sense introducing him to Suzette, then.”

  Elle’s attempt at wry humor might have fooled the others, but it didn’t fool the doctor. “If I wasn’t married, I wouldn’t wear a wedding ring. I don’t lie. Period. If you have questions, ask. If I know the answer, I’ll tell you. If I don’t know, I’ll find someone who does. I expect the same level of honesty in return. Do we have a deal?”

  He held her gaze for a long time. And then he held out his hand.

  Mya couldn’t breathe as she waited for Elle to place her hand in the hand of the man who was going to save her life. Finally doing so, Elle said, “We have a deal. I’d like to speak with you privately, Doctor.”

  Mya, Dean and Millicent all started to protest. Bryce Andrews quieted them all with one shake of his head.

  Dean rose first. Settling Kaylie on his arm, he looked at Mya. She wanted to stay, but the stubborn shifting of his shoulders was too insistent to be argued with. As she left Elle alone with the doctor, Mya felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

  She really, really, really hated hospitals.

  Mya heard her back door open. Recognizing the click of her mother’s footsteps, she said hello without turning.

  “Any luck?” Millicent asked.

  Dragging her gaze away from the nothingness beyond her kitchen window, Mya shook her head. Kaylie was asleep on Mya’s shoulder. The last she knew, Elle was napping, too.

  After the private portion of her consultation yesterday, Elle had dropped another bombshell. With little inflection in her voice, she’d told them she’d decided not to undergo further treatment. She’d said it as she might have said she’d decided not to order takeout for supper.

  “What do you mean?” Millicent had asked.

  But Mya said, “For now, you mean.”

  That wasn’t what Elle had meant at all.

  “You have to continue treatment,” Millie had said.

  Elle had fixed her eyes straight ahead.

  “Tell her, Mya.”

  Mya and her mother had wound up arguing with each other.

  Finally, Dean had said, “You’ll die without treatment.”

  “Yes, I know.” Evidently, Elle had asked Dr. Andrews for the statistics, percentages, time frames. And in that same quiet voice, she’d said, “Chances are, I’ll die either way. What difference does it make if I die from the cancer or if I die from the cure? What good is extending my life if I’m too sick to live it? It comes down to quality or quantity.”