She shrugged. “Every now and then, I post something random.” She paused. “It’s my philanthropy.”
We both laughed so hard that the mystified salesgirl came to check on us.
When it finally came time for my appointment, we ended up taking an UberXL, not exactly what I had envisioned for finding out my test results. But Mom insisted on coming. So did Caroline. And once Caroline said she was going, Sloane decided she was coming, too. And Mark said there was no way he was missing the appointment, either.
I was actually happy to be called back for labs so that I could have a little air to breathe. As I stuck my arm out for the nurse to swab, a little blond girl, who was probably seven or eight, in pink sparkly high-tops and a pink-and-white-striped dress, sat down at the station beside me.
“Hi,” I said, smiling, trying not to flinch as the needle went in.
She smiled back.
“Being at the doctor kind of stinks, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “But I’m not coming here anymore. My mom is here picking up my papers. I’m going to St. Jude’s.”
I looked away so she couldn’t see the tears that had sprung to my eyes without warning. Just like that, it was all in perspective. I might be sick, yeah. But I was a grown-up. This beautiful little girl hadn’t even had a chance to live yet. And she could die.
“Oh, yeah?” I said lightly. I leaned toward her as the nurse put the Band-Aid on my arm. “St. Jude’s is an awesome place. I’ve been there a few times.”
She looked up at me with big, innocent blue eyes and said, as her mom approached, “Did you have cancer, too?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’m an actress and—”
“I know who you are,” she said cheerily. “You’re Cinderella.”
I laughed. “I sure am,” I said. “I am Cinderella.” I had played Cinderella recently in a series of TV fairy-tale remakes that had done shockingly well. I probably took more kid selfies these days than adult ones.
“And who are you?” I asked.
I smiled up at her mother, who was smiling with her mouth. Her eyes looked very, very tired—and terrified.
“I’m Maggie,” she said. She paused and looked down at her swinging feet and then back up at me. “Could you come visit me when I’m at St. Jude’s?”
I put my hand on my heart, and her mother interjected, “Maggie, I’m sure Ms. Murphy is very, very busy.”
I stood up and looked her mother straight in the eye. “There is nothing on earth that could make me too busy to come visit Maggie when she is at St. Jude’s.”
Her eyes watered now, and she nodded.
I crouched down and said, “What about if I come as Cinderella, and I bring along Prince Charming and Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, too?”
Maggie nodded enthusiastically.
“But we’ll have a secret, because you’ll know it’s really me.” I winked at her.
She nodded again, and a nurse took her hand and said, “Want to come with me to get a sucker?”
Maggie said, “?’Bye. See you soon.”
“I can’t wait, Maggie!” Then I called her back and said, “Hey, can you take a picture with me?” and snapped a selfie of the two of us.
I turned to her mom. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “It’s a dumb thing to say, but I am. What can I do for you? How can I help?”
She shrugged. “We’re so lucky to get to go to St. Jude’s. All their expertise and all their research and their success rates and... I have hope again, you know?”
I nodded and bit my lip.
“They have a ninety-percent cure rate for her kind of leukemia,” she said. I could tell she was trying to bolster her own spirits.
