She actually smiled when she said it, as though we were discussing the possibility of her running for governor, not some Dr. Kevorkian wannabe sticking a needle in her arm as her family watched the breath leave her body. I closed my notebook and put my pen down beside me. I wasn’t going to take notes on this. This was a story I was going to rewrite.
“No, I just mean, with all the medical advances being made, you don’t know what could happen. Maybe alternative treatments would work for you. Look at Kris Carr.”
She looked shocked. Clearly, this wasn’t the interview she’d been expecting, either. I wondered if anyone in her lifeever argued with Greer McCann Thaysden. Judging from the expression on her face, I’d say not. Her shock was turning to amusement. “I find it strange that you seem to be taking this harder than some of my best friends.”
I turned away from her, so she wouldn’t see the blush creeping up my cheeks. If I wasn’t uncomfortable enough already, with her in her perfectly fitted dress and me in the skirt and top that I had thought were so fashionable when I had put them on that morning but now realized were far too trendy, this was adding insult to injury. I think this was why Greer and I had never become close. When I was around her, I always felt less than, through no fault of hers. And then… maybe it was in my head, but I also couldn’t help but feel like any time Parker and I were simply chatting at a party, she suddenly appeared. Or when we shared a laugh or an inside joke, it grated on her nerves. Then again, I would always remind myself, Greer Thaysden couldn’t possibly feel threatened by anyone.
I wasn’t sure why I felt so passionately about this stranger’s very personal choice. But she had ignited something inside me. “We need you, Greer. Women like me need women like you to look up to. We need you to show us how we can follow our dreams and still do good in the world. We need you to show us how to fight the good fight. So fight it, won’t you?”
She bit her lip, and I knew I was making her uncomfortable, but I couldn’t stop myself. My heart suddenly ripped in two for Parker, and I felt so protective of him, so cognizant of his pain, that I added, “What about poor Parker, Greer?Surely this is killing him. If you can’t fight for yourself, if you can’t fight for the women who need you, please, please, Greer, fight for Parker.”
She didn’t say anything for a second and then nodded her head toward my pad. “So, your story?”
I stood up. “If I run a story about your right to die, then you might feel like you can’t change your mind. So I’m going to give you a week to think about this.”
Greer followed me to the door. She looked me squarely in the eye and said, “Fine. But you should know: I never change my mind.”
I hoped and prayed that she would, almost as hard as I hoped and prayed Nanette wouldn’t fire me when I told her that I hadn’t gotten the story after all. This was a fireable offense. If Greer did change her mind, and I did the interview in a week, it would give me only one day to file it and meet my deadline, assuming I stayed up all night. I almost called her back to apologize. But then I realized that this was her life we were talking about here. If I were choosing her life over my story, I would do that any day, even if it meant losing my dream job and flying back to North Carolina a failure, my tail between my legs.
I usually kept these things confidential until they went to press, but I had to tellsomeone. Mom had scolded me, had made me imagine what it had been like for Greer to watch her own mother suffer with this same disease. I guessed I had overstepped, and I felt like a fool. I felt like a fool, that is, right up until four days later, when I got a call from Greer. Shedidn’t say hello or exchange pleasantries. She said, “Come back tomorrow. Let’s write a different story.”
“Greer,” I said, a smile in my voice, “writing a different story is what life is all about.”
Easy for me to say. Up until that point, my life had gone perfectly according to plan.
Parker handed me a cup of espresso and motioned toward the couch, bringing me back to the here and now, where I had just gotten fired from my job. He came back three minutes later wearing a T-shirt—so threadbare it was full of pinholes—and a pair of gym shorts.
“I didn’t fire you, Amelia. I would never do that.”
I was calmer now. Maybe it was the lilac scent from the flowers on the coffee table or the pair of white couches flanking the fireplace with the mirrored coffee table and the abstract art. “I know,” I said quietly.
“Greer would not have wanted someone with your talent and drive fired.”
I took a sip of my espresso. “Smart woman.”
“Hang on a second, and let me make a call,” Parker said.
“No!” I protested from a place of pride inside myself that I didn’t know I still had. “I can’t get my job back because Parker Thaysden made a call.”
He studied me. “But isn’t that why you came here? So I could fix this for you?”
I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug, feeling the warmth seep into my hands and fingers. Why had I come here? Had I wanted to see Parker? I took a sip of coffee, allowing myself a pause before I answered. Maybe, I realized, I had relied for far too long on other people to fix things for me. “I think this is something I have to fix for myself, unfortunately,” I said. “I just don’t really know what that looks like yet.”
Parker smiled at me. “You’ve always been so brave, Lia. Maybe this as an opportunity, a time to write a new story.”
Greer hadn’t been around to see the new story I wrote for her play out. She hadn’t gotten to spend a lifetime with the man who loved her more than the moon and the stars. She hadn’t gotten to have her babies and watch them grow. I had been one of the ones who had let her believe in a miracle. A miracle that hadn’t come. And now I was sitting here complaining about a job? She had lost her life. Her bright, beautiful life. Compared to that, a job was meaningless.
“I’m sorry, Parker,” I said. “I feel really dumb. I’m going to go now.”
“Please don’t,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked, surprised.
“Please don’t go. I couldn’t sleep last night, and I need some company this morning.”
I understood that. “Are you still thinking about… well, you know.”
He nodded. “I can’t move on,” he said. “Greer was just it for me.”
