Life Happens Page 6

  “That isn’t what you want to give me.” But she smiled. “I’m sorry to bother you. But this couldn’t wait.”

  “We’re not talking about sex anymore, are we?”

  “No.”

  “That’s too bad. I mean it. I’m bereft.”

  Perhaps, but he was getting over it.

  “What’s wrong, Mya?”

  “It’s Elle.”

  “What did she do?” When Mya shot him a cold look, he had the grace to look sheepish. “Perhaps I should rephrase that.”

  Climbing out of bed, she retrieved her purse and removed the small piece of paper containing the word that had been on that medicine bottle.

  “What’s this?” he asked, sitting up.

  “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”

  He stared at the word while he scratched his chest. “It looks like the name of a pharmaceutical drug. Judging by the length of the word and the prefix and suffix, I’d say it’s a very expensive pharmaceutical drug. Where did you get it?”

  “I walked in on Elle while she was taking it.”

  He got out of bed, buck naked. The man didn’t have a self-conscious cell in his body. Civilized enough to don a pair of tattered sweats before traipsing past two large windows, he strode out of his bedroom and into the room he used as a study. Mya followed, quietly watching as he took a heavy tome from a low shelf. Hefting the book onto his desk, he opened it, and ran his index finger down one page and then another. He checked the spelling on the paper Mya had given him, then leafed through several more pages.

  “Here it is.”

  As he skimmed the data, a change came over him, and she knew he was putting on his physician persona. With dread, Mya asked, “What does it say?”

  “Are you positive about the spelling?”

  She nodded, for she’d memorized the word letter for letter.

  “It’s a chemotherapy drug, Mya, used primarily in the treatment of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

  She felt a nauseating sinking of despair. “Cancer?”

  “Of the lymph system. You saw Elle take these pills?”

  “She took something from a bottle that had this name on the label. It might have been aspirin.” Talk about grasping at straws.

  “How did she act when you saw her?”

  “As if she’d been caught doing something she didn’t want me to see.” Mya closed her eyes. Elle hadn’t been taking aspirin. Of that, she was certain.

  “Medicine has come a long way, Mya.” Jeff closed the book and put it away. “Scientists and oncologists understand the way cancer cells behave, spread, metastasize and react better than they ever have. New strides are being made every day. There are better treatments, longer periods of remission.”

  While Jeff continued to say all the things doctors always said, Mya pictured Elle shivering on the front porch, and mad as hell for being there. That brought Mya up short. Why had Elle come to Maine?

  “Jeff, I have to go.”

  She’d interrupted him in the middle of his bedside speech. Nonplussed, he grasped her cold hands and drew her to him, wrapping his arms around her back. The heat emanating from him should have warmed her. And yet she couldn’t stand still in his embrace.

  “Before you jump off the deep end, you need more information and it’s time Eleanor gave it to you.”

  Jump off the deep end?

  She bristled, but she held it inside and left his house. She was on a mission. And her next stop was the Portland Public Library at 5 Monument Square.

  CHAPTER 5

  I t was sprinkling when Mya left the library. By the time she drove across town to her mother’s hair salon, the sky was engaged in a full-blown temper tantrum.

  Inside the salon, her mother was sweeping the floor around her only customer, an elderly woman named Agnes here for her weekly do. Millicent took one look at Mya’s face, and put down the broom. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

  While Agnes napped beneath a large aqua hair dryer, Mya stared at the papers clutched tightly in her hands. The top page was rain spattered, the ink running in places.

  “Just come right out and say it. No need to sugarcoat it.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “I mean it. I can take the truth.”

  “That’s good, because—”

  “What do you have there?” Her mother pointed to the sheaf of papers.

  “Research.”

  “What are you researching? For God’s sakes, would you say something?”

  Beyond any defensive reactions, Mya sighed and said, “This is information about non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

  “Non-Hodg—oh my God.” Millie dropped heavily into a chair at another station, then listened as Mya explained what she’d seen the previous night, what she’d learned from Jeffrey and then what she’d discovered at the library.

  “Does Jeffrey think Elle has cancer?” Millicent asked.

  “What else could it be?”

  Her mother rose shakily. Switching off the hair dryer, she woke her customer. “I can’t finish you today, Agnes. We’re having a family emergency and I must go see my granddaughter.”

  Poor Agnes blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Did you say granddaughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know you had a granddaughter.”

  “I do. I’ll tell you about her another time. Right now you have to go.”

  “But I have curlers in my hair.”

  “Take them out in an hour. You can keep them or bring them back next time. I’ll make it up to you. Where’s your purse?” She located the patent leather bag and a spring jacket and ushered the woman out the front door, the plastic cape around her neck and pink curlers still in her hair.

  Millicent’s hand shook as she locked up. Turning in a circle, she said, “I remembered Agnes’s purse but I left mine inside.”

  “I’ll drive, Mom.”

  “Good idea.” Their shoes splashed through a shallow puddle. “I’m a bit of a wreck. You can say it.”

  “You’re doing fine.”

  “Darned right I am. I’m worried about you, though.”

  “Don’t, Mom.”

  “I see the way you look at her.”

  Mya started her car and pulled into the sparse traffic.

  “Aren’t you going to ask how you look at her?”

  “Mother.” It was issued as a warning.

  “You look at her the same way you looked at her the day you had her, like you’ll die if you can’t keep her.”

  “Mom, please.”

  “I know, I know. You’ve read accounts of real-life mother-child reunions, and much of the time, the situations aren’t pretty. Maybe a lot of grown adopted children get their medical history and, curiosity satisfied, return to their families and proceed to go about the rest of their lives, and their birth mothers are left wanting more. But Elle’s here, Mya. You can’t close that off.”

  “I’m not closing it off.”

  “Sure you are,” Millicent said in perfect time to the windshield wipers. “That’s how you’ve dealt with losing her all these years.”

  “I didn’t lose her. I gave her up.”

  “And you never talk about it.”

  “What good would talking about it have done?” But Mya’s decision weighed heavily upon her. It always had.

  Millicent sighed. “This weather is really getting on my nerves. Turn here,” she said at the first stoplight. “The quicker we get to your house, the better. We’ll get to the bottom of this faster if we present a united front.”

  Mya and her mother, a united front. Would wonders never cease?

  Elle opened her eyes to a wall of legs, two of which were ensconced in red slacks and the other two showcased to the hilt beneath a pink skirt. Both sets belonged to slightly damp but formidable-looking Donahue women.

  Millicent aimed the remote at the television where a DVD movie had been playing. “Jeffrey says those pills Mya saw you taking are chemotherapy. That true?”<
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  Elle sat up. “That didn’t take long.”

  “That isn’t an answer, missy.”

  Looking up at Millicent, Elle got a glimpse of how Kaylie would be some day. It brought a swell of pain that had nothing to do with her illness.

  Mya said, “Is Kaylie taking a nap?”

  Elle nodded, then didn’t know where to look. She wound up staring at the two orange cats curled up together in the overstuffed chair across the room. They always did that, leaving the white cat out. Cats weren’t so different than humans. “My stepmother doesn’t want her.”

  Both Millicent and Mya leaned forward in order to hear. “She doesn’t want who?” Millicent said.

  But Mya knew what she was talking about. “Your stepmother doesn’t want Kaylie?”

  Elle nodded. “Brunhilde says Kaylie’s a bad seed. Like me.”

  Mya’s eyes darkened with a dangerous expression. “The woman really is evil.”

  “I told you.”

  Lowering to the edge of the coffee table, Mya said, “She’s wrong, you know. You’re not a bad seed. And neither is your baby. You do know that, don’t you?”

  Elle had to fight the urge to hide from that probing gaze. “You saying you might want her?”

  Millicent gasped.

  Next to her, Mya said, “God, Elle.”

  It wasn’t the response she’d hoped for, but then, when was the last time Elle’s wishes had come true? Not the day her dad told her about her mom’s accident. Not a year later when he’d remarried. Not when she’d told Cody her period was late. It sure as hell hadn’t come true when she’d been waiting for the results of her blood test three months ago. Why should today be any different?

  “I haven’t decided to let you take her,” she told Mya. “I barely know you, right? But if you’re sure you don’t want her, tell me now. I have things to do.”

  “Of course Mya wants her.”

  Elle and Mya both looked at Millicent. And then Millicent and Elle looked to Mya, who was blank and obviously shaken. Awkwardly, Elle cleared her throat. “I don’t have a lot of choices.”

  Mya sat back, duly rebuffed.

  “Eleanor Renee Fletcher,” Millicent said. “What is going on?”

  Millie sounded exactly the way Elle used to imagine a grandmother would sound. She told herself the drugs made her weak, and that was the reason for the sad yearning that kept her huddled on the sofa.

  “I didn’t get my strength back after I had Kaylie. We figured I was anemic, but just to be safe, my doctor ran some tests. When the results came back, they said I had lymphoma. I was terrified Kaylie had it, too, but she doesn’t.” She paused a moment to silently acknowledge that one of her wishes, the most important wish of all, had come true. “We thought the first regimen of chemo would be enough, but my remission didn’t last long. I’m winding down after the second round. I still have my hair this time, so it’s a pretty sure bet the second round hasn’t been successful, either.”

  “What is your doctor doing about it?” Millicent asked.

  Elle uncurled her legs and eased her feet to the floor. “If the cancer is still there, they’ll try more chemo. I could go in and out of remission for years. Unfortunately, all that chemotherapy poses its own risk. If the cancer spreads, my only real hope will be a bone marrow transplant. It would be a long shot even if I had a sibling who was a match.” Looking directly into Mya’s eyes, she said, “Since there aren’t any, my only other option would be to find a match through the national bone marrow registry. Finding a close enough match from a non-blood-related donor makes survival more like a crapshoot.”

  There were twin circles of pink on Mya’s cheeks. The rest of her face had paled. “Does your family back in Pennsylvania know you’re here?”

  Elle said, “My poor dad. He’s not happy about it, but I’ve gotta make sure Kaylie’s taken care of.” She looked at Mya. “You’re not running. That must mean you’re considering it. Don’t you think you should talk it over with the Minute Man?”

  In the ensuing silence, all three heard Kaylie wake from her morning nap. Elle started to rise. Gently, Mya placed her hand on the girl’s knee. “I’ll go.”

  Watching Mya disappear down the hall, Millie said, “That girl never could sit still in times like these. I told her you were hiding something bad. I’d give anything to have been wrong. You probably noticed that she holds a lot in. One of these days the dam’s going to break. I doubt it’ll be pretty, but we’ll get through it, the same way we’ll get through this. Together.”

  Elle wished she was half as sure about that.

  They could hear Mya and Kaylie in the other room. Millicent was quiet. Elle figured the old lady was entitled to her own thoughts.

  “Elle?” she finally asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is your stepmother’s name really Brunhilde?”

  Elle glanced sideways in surprise. “It’s Roberta.”

  Millicent turned her head slowly and said, “Girl, I like your style.”

  In a million years, Elle hadn’t expected to smile today.

  “Kaylie and I are going to bed. Tell Mya and Jeffrey good-night, Kaylie.”

  Kaylie stared solemnly over Elle’s shoulder.

  “It’s only nine o’clock,” Mya said, launching herself from the couch. “You’re welcome to sit with us after you put Kaylie to bed. We’ll watch any movie you want. Or we could always talk. Or play a board game or cards.”

  Hoisting the baby higher onto her bony hip, Elle started down the hall. Mya had little choice but to fall into step beside her.

  “Kaylie took a short nap today,” Elle said. “Besides, I figure you and the good doctor have a lot to talk about.” Up-on reaching the spare room, she lowered her voice even more. “You want him mellow, start with a BJ.”

  Mya shot Elle a look the girl didn’t have the decency to stick around long enough to see.

  Jeffrey was waiting patiently when she returned to the living room. Fingers laced behind his head, he smiled. “It’s amazing how young they learn these days.”

  It was just her luck he’d heard.

  “She’s right, by the way,” he said.

  Mya tilted her head slightly, giving him a sardonic look. Accustomed to her sardonic looks, he said, “I take it Eleanor confirmed your suspicions.”

  She wanted to shout, “Her name is Elle!” But her painstakingly acquired good sense kept her still. Besides, Elle was as bad when it came to names as he was.

  Mya had been rehearsing what she would say all day. The afternoon had gone by in a blur. She’d opened Brynn’s just before lunchtime. Suzette and Claire had arrived after school, and for once, she’d welcomed Suzette’s positive outlook. After checking her personal tides of the moon chart, Suzette had deemed tonight a good night to discuss serious issues.

  Issues didn’t come much more serious than this.

  As so often happened, she found herself at the window. The porch light was on, illuminating the soggy yard and competing with the quarter moon. “I know why Elle came to Maine. You were right about the drugs. They’re low-dose chemotherapy.”

  “I’m sorry, Mya.”

  “She came here to put her affairs in order.”

  “What affairs?”

  “She’s looking for someone to take Kaylie. In case…” She couldn’t think it let alone say it out loud. Looking at Jeff, she said, “Me, to be exact.”

  Jeff sat back. And then he sat ahead. But he said nothing. Mya wasn’t sure what she’d expected, if she’d expected anything, but she wasn’t surprised by his shock. She was still reeling, herself.

  “This is probably more than you bargained for when you proposed…” she paused, calculating. “A week ago.” Had it really only been a week?

  He patted the cushion next to him. When she didn’t take him up on his invitation, he made a sound universal to men and joined her at the window. He asked a lot of questions about Eleanor’s condition and prognosis and treatment. Mya answered as best she could
.

  “Did you tell her you’ll take the baby?” he asked when everything else had been said.

  “I didn’t tell her anything.”

  “Do you want to raise Kaylie?”

  A suffocating sensation tightened her throat. What did she know about babies? Until tonight, she’d never so much as changed a diaper in her entire life.

  “There isn’t anyone else, Jeff.”

  For once, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she was certain of two things. She wouldn’t try to talk him into anything. And she didn’t think she could bear to lose Elle this time. “I’m going to be tested to be a potential bone marrow donor.”

  He took his time absorbing that. “You’ll need someone to order the test.”

  “Can you?”

  “I’ll look into it.” In a voice that had gone noticeably deeper, he said, “Lymphoma is a stubborn disease. The non-Hodgkin’s form is downright conniving. This is going to be a tough time for you. It would be easier if you tried not to get too attached to Eleanor.”

  Something vicious unfurled inside her. A battle raged someplace between her head and the pit of her stomach. She felt like a character in an old alien movie, and a creature from outer space was clawing through her skin. She thought about the anger management classes she’d taken, and the self-help books she’d read. She doubted that even Dr. Phil would be able to tamp this monster down.

  Mya transferred all the plastic toys and stuffed animals from her hands into a wicker basket next to the sofa. Jeffrey had left a while ago. Their kiss had been strained.

  Practicing her deep-breathing exercises, she straightened magazines and took care of soda cans. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In the kitchen, she gave the cats a midnight snack, then put them in the back room for the night, breathing deeply all the while. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Panic solidified her breath. Breathing deeply wasn’t helping.

  What was she going to do?

  What could she do?

  She was on her way past the spare room when she heard Kaylie jabbering in a language Millicent called baby babble. Mya paused in indecision. After the shock of the previous night, she opened the door cautiously and peeked in.