“Shhh.”
“She can’t hear,” he whispered.
“But I can,” Pam whispered back, “and it’s wrong.Youshouldn’t be saying those things.You shouldn’t bethinkingthose things.”
A mocking sound came from deep in his throat, just as two teenage girls went by with a flash of metal-mouthed smiles.“She’s adorable,” said one.
“How old is she?”the other asked Cutter.
“Four,” he answered, then, because he was a proud father, added, “today.”
“It’s her birthday?”asked the first, her smile broadening.
“Wow!”said the second and turned to Ariana.“Happy birthday, little sweetie.”
Blissfully entranced by her music box, Ariana didn’t look up until the girls had swept by.They waved at her, laughed at each other, and were soon turning onto the footbridge and blending into the crowd.
Ariana skipped over to the bench.Setting the music box on it, she closed the lid, opened it, closed it for a little longer, opened it again.Reassured that the music would keep coming, she gave Cutter a dimpled smile.
His heart turned over.
“Want to come on the swan boats with us?”Pam asked.
It was a minute before he regained his composure enough to say, “Only if I get to hold the birthday girl.Sound fair?”he asked Ariana.
She nodded.“Can I hold my gift?”
“You hold your gift, I’ll hold you.”
“Who’ll hold Mommy?”
Sweeping her up in his arms, he stood.“How about we just keep her real close?”He shifted Ariana to one sideand, by the time Pam joined them, had an arm free to throw over her shoulder.
He didn’t care who saw them, didn’t care if tongues wagged, didn’t care even if word got back to Brendan.If people assumed he and Pam were husband and wife out walking with the beautiful child they’d made, it was only a twist of the truth.
He wanted it to be the whole truth, but that was still a distant dream.He’d been waiting all his life for Pam.Now he was waiting for Ariana, too, only having to wait meant that he was missing some of the special times that once gone were gone for good.The worst of it was that he didn’t know where it would end.As long as Pam was married to Brendan, he’d be the outsider.No matter how much pleasure he found in stolen moments, they were still stolen.
Pam’s concern deepened in the weeks that followed.Brendan looked pale, he wasn’t eating well, and he grew short-tempered each time she mentioned his seeing a doctor.The matter was taken out of both their hands one Thursday morning when he collapsed at the bank.Pam was atFacets,examining several pieces of tourmaline that had just arrived from Maine, when she got the call.With a sense of dread, she rushed to the hospital.
Brendan was awake and aware enough to reassure Pam that he was fine, but she didn’t believe him for a minute.She was relieved when his doctor ordered a full battery of tests.After the first batch, there were more.Some were done over.
The word wasn’t good.Brendan had tumors in his brain and both lungs.Pam was in shock.
“That can’t be.He hasn’t been sick.Just tired.”
At the doctor’s request she was meeting with him privately in his office.
“It’s an insidious disease, Mrs.McGrath.”
She’d heard stories to that effect, but never thought they would concern people she knew and loved, not her own husband.“But no headaches?No cough?Maybe the tests are wrong.”
“We’ve run CAT scans and bone scans.We’ve done MRIs—magnetic resonance imaging.The results are consistent.”He looked troubled, almost annoyed.“I wish your husband had come in sooner.I alerted him to the fact that this could happen.For a while there he saw me every six months, but he hasn’t been in for a full physical now in nearly two years.Given his history, that was unwise.”
“His history?”
“The melanoma.”
Her insides knocked.“What melanoma?”
