Pam couldn’t begin to answer that.She couldn’t begin to tally the sides.She was overwhelmed by all she’d learned that day.
“We’ll fight this, Brendan.We’ll do what the doctor suggests.He’s bringing in a whole team.They’ll decide on a protocol, and we’ll follow it.”
He remained silent, eyes closed.Then his voice came reed-thin.“Once I’m gone, you can be with him.”
“Don’t say that!Don’t even think it!I want to be with you!”And at that moment she did.The thought of wishing Brendan dead so that she could be with Cutter was abhorrent to her.
Brendan rested for a while before opening his eyes again.“Is it Cutter?”
She carried his hand to her lips, kissed it, gave a short nod.
Seeming content with that, he closed his eyes again.After a time, he sighed.“Ahhhh, Pam.There’s a hard road ahead.I hate to drag you down it.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Bren.”
She was as good as her word.Just as years before she had vowed to be a good wife to Brendan, so now she decided to make his remaining time—however long—as happy as possible.That meant special times spent with him alone doing his favorite things, and with Ariana, just the three of them as a family.It meant planning weekends away with his sons and their families, and arranging dinners with the best of Brendan’s friends.She workedaround his treatment schedule and around the few hours each day that he tried to spend at the bank.Her own work was limited to the times when he rested, which came more often and lasted longer as the treatment zapped his strength.
Devoting herself to Brendan was satisfying in its way.She did love him.She worried about him.She was happiest when she could do small things to please him, to make him smile.
She also found satisfaction in Ariana and in her work.Although she dramatically decreased her hours, her name continued to grow.WhenFacetsLondon opened, she was there for the festivities.Her reception was better than she had dared hope, her following even larger than she’d been led to believe by the British clients she already serviced.
That made John nervous, which pleased Pam no end.He wasn’t used to being upstaged, and although the British upper crust was far too well mannered to make it obvious, he was sensitive enough to the subtleties of power to catch on.As the party progressed, he moved close to Pam’s side, but if he thought he might fool her into thinking that he was the one attracting the crowd, he was wrong.She was in her element, feeling self-confident and sharp.She knew who was drawing the attention, and for the space of those few hours she basked in it.
Buoyed, she returned to Boston, where she concentrated on keeping her wits and some small measure of good humor while Brendan’s condition wavered.
Chapter 26
New York, July 1990
“Want to stop by here when you get a minute?”Arlan asked without preamble.His terseness made Hillary wary.
“Is there a problem?”
“Just need to talk.”
She was trying to imagine what was wrong when a suspicious sound made her frown.“Arlan?Are you smoking?”
He didn’t answer.
“Arlan?”
“Just one.”
“One, my foot.Oh, Arlan, you were doing so well.”
“It’s been a rough day.”
“But this is yourlife.”
“Look.I don’t tell you how to live.Don’t tell me how to live.When can you stop by?”
He sounded truly annoyed, which was a first for him with her.“Uh, if it’s urgent, in an hour.”
“Good.I’ll see you then.”
An hour later she walked into his office.He had a cigarette in his hand and was regarding her in defiance, daring her to comment on it.She didn’t.Instead, she slid into a chair, propped an elbow on its arm, and put her fingers under her nose.In response, he took a long drag of the cigarette and exhaled an even longer stream of smoke.
“See?”she said, unable to resist.“By not smoking, you’ve improved your lungs’ capacity so that you can now smoke even more deeply than before.”
