“That’s amazing.”
“My wife has taught me well.”
“Can I go up?”
“I think she’s sleeping, but of course. Go up.”
“Is she thrilled to be home?”
“She really is. She said she feels better just being in her own bed.”
“I can imagine. Where are Honor and Walter?”
“Honor needed some things in town so Walter’s giving her a ride.”
“Really? They’re in a car together? Walter actually agreed to share air space with Honor?”
“I know,” Reece says with a laugh. “It must be a Christmas miracle.”
“Some things will never cease to amaze me.” Lila shakes her head. “I’ll go upstairs and see if there’s anything she wants.”
The bedroom door is open. Lila tiptoes in to see that Callie is sleeping. It is a restless sleep, her mouth is open and she turns her head frequently. Lila isn’t entirely sure she even is asleep, and as she steps on a creaking floorboard Callie opens her eyes and moves them slowly to focus on Lila.
“Hi, sweetie,” Lila says, coming to sit on the bed next to her, leaning over and kissing her cheek. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just came up to see if you needed anything.”
“I’m thirsty,” Callie says, gesturing to the table where there is a plastic cup of water with a lid and a straw. Lila reaches for the cup and holds the straw to Callie’s lips; she sips gratefully, her head falling back on the pillow when she is done.
“How are the kids?” Callie asks.
“They’re amazing. We took them to Ye Olde Christmas Fayre today.” Lila tells Callie about their escapades, ending with Jack’s long list of gifts pulled from the catalogues. Callie’s face lights up and she starts to laugh.
“Thank you,” she says. “You are the best.”
“Do you want me to do the Christmas decorations?” Lila asks gently.
“No.” Callie covers Lila’s hand with her own. “I want to do them myself with the kids. If I need you, I’ll let you know. This radiation stuff sounds like it’s going to be pretty brutal so I don’t know how I’ll feel, but I still want to at least try to do Christmas with the kids.”
“Are you worried about the side effects of the radiation?”
Callie nods. “A bit.”
“I spoke to Mark about it yesterday. He said a lot of it can be controlled with drugs. The Zofran, for example, should still deal with the nausea.”
“I know. He told me.” Callie starts to sit up, and Lila quickly tucks a large foam triangle behind her, brought back from the hospital and now kept permanently beside the bed, so she can get comfortable. “I’m not so worried about the sickness. Or the hair loss. It’s not like I haven’t been through that before. It’s dementia and brain deterioration that scare me.”
“But that doesn’t happen to everyone, right?”
“No. I just have to hope it doesn’t happen to me. He also said it’s going to knock me out and I’m going to be doing a lot of sleeping.”
“But that’s good. That will give your body a chance to heal.”
“I hope so. Where are the kids now?”
“Reece is feeding them. Do you want them to come up?”
“Yes! Let’s have a picnic in here! Will you get them? And bring up some wine and some guacamole.”
“You’re allowed to drink wine?” Lila is shocked.
“Not me, silly. For you, Reece, Edand my parents. Hey, speaking of my parents, is that not totally weird, that my dad is actually staying under the same roof as my mom?”
“It’s totally weird, and get this: your dad drove your mother into town this afternoon.”
“No! Oh my God. Can you imagine if they got back together? Wouldn’t that be just . . . amazing? And strange?”
“It would be amazing and strange. I bet they’re both lonely.”
“I know they’re both lonely. I’m going to try to do some match-making.”
“Right. Because you haven’t been trying to get them back together since the day they divorced.”
“So? At least now it looks like I have a chance. Maybe I’ll make that a dying wish.”
“Will you stop?” Lila looks horrified. “You’re not dying.”
“Not today.” And Callie flashes a Callie-like grin.
Lila skips down the stairs, a smile on her face and the heaviness finally gone. This has been the first time in weeks that Callie has looked, and sounded, like her old self. What if she can beat the odds? What if she does make it to five and a half years, and they do find a cure and she’s fine?
Suddenly this doesn’t feel like such a remote possibility after all.
Walter parks the car and gets out quickly, walking over to let
Honor out of her side.
“Oh, I’m fine.” She smiles, remembering how Walter always used to insist on opening the door. Funny. She hadn’t thought about that for years. George had never done it, and she hadn’t expected him to. It always seemed ridiculously old-fashioned and formal, but now she realizes she quite likes Walter opening the door, reaching in to take her shopping bags, holding out a hand to help her out of the car.
For let’s face it. She’s not as young, or as steady, as she once was, and there is something inherently comforting in the elegance of his good manners.
They have not talked much. Even sitting in the car, driving to and from town, there was no small talk. Instead, they listened to NPR, in companionable silence, occasionally swapping thoughts on the discussion they were listening to.
Honor is surprised that Walter has softened with age. She didn’t press him, but deduced from his comments that while he may not have moved over quite so far as to be able to join her on the Left, he is deeply disturbed with what has happened to the Republican Party, and was humiliated by the choice of vice-presidential running mate in the last election.
There is hope for him yet, she thinks, surprising herself with the affection that seems to come along for the ride.
All the lights are on in the house, but there is no one around.
“Where is everyone?” Honor looks at Walter, who shrugs, then turns his head as they both hear a shriek of laughter coming from upstairs.
They walk up to find a smiling Callie sitting up, directing a game of Clue. Reece, Ed and Lila are sitting on the bed, each with a glass of wine, and the kids are bouncing up and down excitedly, not because of the game, but because they are just so damned happy to have their mother home.
“Well!” Honor says, a glow lifting her heart. “Well!” And she and Walter drop their bags, and climb on the bed.
Wild Mushroom Polenta
Ingredients
For the polenta
3 cups chicken stock
½ cup half-and-half cream
Salt and pepper to taste
2 cups polenta
¼ cup mascarpone
4 tablespoons butter
½ cup Parmesan cheese, grated
For the mushroom sauce
1 cup assorted gourmet mushrooms (porcini, morels, etc.)
1 garlic clove
1 onion, finely chopped
Olive oil
1 sprig thyme
Salt and pepper to taste
4 tablespoons chicken stock
Chopped parsley
Method
Combine the stock, half-and-half, salt and pepper and bring to a simmer. Add the polenta in a slow steady stream and bring the mixture back to a simmer. Stir with a wooden spoon and cook on a very low heat for 1 hour, stirring frequently. If the mixture begins to thicken too much, add more simmering stock. Finish with mascarpone and butter, then season and add the cheese. It should be like loose mashed potatoes.
To make the sauce: rinse the mushrooms thoroughly if fresh, then slice them and sauté them with the garlic and onion in the oil for about 10 minutes. Add the thyme, salt, pepper and stock, and turn the heat to high, to reduce and thicken the sauce.
When ready to serve, spoon the
sauce over the polenta and sprinkle with the parsley.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Steffi is lying on Callie’s bed, reading out loud from Kris Carr’s Crazy Sexy Cancer Tips, as Callie drifts in and out of sleep. Her breathing changes each time she sleeps, and Steffi puts the book down and just gazes at her sister, wishing there were something, anything, she could do to make this process easier.
Steffi knew the radiation would be bad. Everyone knew the radiation would be bad. She didn’t think it would be this bad, this . . . exhausting. Callie barely has the energy to move. Her legs are now so weak she has to be helped out of bed, helped down to the car, and all she wants to do is sleep.
“It’s helping,” Steffi whispered earlier. “You’re sleeping because you’re healing.”
All Callie knows is she wants to close her eyes, and sleep forever. Her routine is to force herself awake for breakfast in bed with the children, who are thrilled they get to have breakfast in Mommy’s bed every morning, then go to the hospital for the radiotherapy, then back home to sleep all day.
In the afternoon she manages two or three hours of awake time, but she doesn’t have the strength to get up anymore unless it’s to go to the hospital. During the afternoons, when she is awake, the family gathers together on her bed, attempting to fill the room with laughter, and hope.
Callie’s hair has gone. When the clumps started coming out in her fingers, Reece carried her into the bathroom and gently shaved her head. She joked throughout, her mom and dad sitting in the bedroom, nervous as anything, trying to smile with her when she first emerged, her head shaved, asking if it suited her.
When Callie was back in bed she sent everyone downstairs, claiming she needed a nap. She sank back on her pillow, clutching a lock of her hair. Feeling empty.
They told her this would happen, and it’s not like she doesn’t know what it feels like, to have no hair, but she hadn’t expected it to go so quickly.
“Good thing you don’t have the energy to go anywhere,” Steffi said, when she first saw her. “You look terrible.”
Callie laughed. “Thank God someone’s brave enough to be honest with me,” she said. “Everyone else keeps saying it actually suits me.”
“Nope. You look like a baby bird.”
And it is true. Callie hasn’t been able to eat properly for weeks, and she is tiny. Now that her hair has dropped out from the radiation she does indeed look like a fuzzy baby bird.
Steffi has found herself gently taking control, a unique position for her, the baby sister now having to be the big sister. A catheter was inserted just the other day, and when her mom was resting Steffi was the one to open the tube, so carefully, and empty it for Callie.
“I should be embarrassed,” Callie sighed.
“Why? This doesn’t bother me.” Steffi shook her head. “I was up to my knees in chicken poop this morning. Trust me. This is nothing.”
And it’s true. Steffi, and Lila, neither of whom is a mother, have both found themselves stepping into the mothering role, and it is as easy and natural for them as if Callie were a newborn baby.
Callie wakes up to find Steffi smiling at her.
“Hey,” Steffi whispers, reaching out a hand and stroking Callie’s scalp.
“Hey, you. I love waking up and seeing you here,” she says. “Have I been asleep long?”
“A while. I wanted to wait until you woke up before I left.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to get cooking. Mary put in a late request for more cakes for tomorrow. And I haven’t told you yet, but the big night with Stan is tomorrow.”
“Really? You’re going on a date?”
Steffi grins. “I’m not sure about that. We’re going to some bar.”
“He can’t take you out for dinner?”
Steffi shrugs. “You know my type. They’ve usually got no money, and are much happier in grungy clothes than in some fine restaurant.”
“Oh Steff.” Callie’s eyes are serious. “Aren’t you getting too old for that?”
“What?” Steffi jumps on the defensive. “What do you mean?”
“I just mean you deserve someone to treat you wonderfully. You deserve someone like, I don’t know, like Reece.”
Steffi looks worried.
“I don’t mean that I expect you to marry Reece in my place!” She laughs. “I just mean a grown-up. A real man. Someone who values you and respects you enough to take you out for dinner, not to some grungy bar where he’s going to drink beer all night.”
“I know he’s not the one, sis. But he’s cute for now.”
“But Steff, it’s time you stopped having ‘cute for now.’ I want you to be with a good guy. A permanent guy.”
“I do too.”
“Then I want to meet Stan.”
“What? I thought you didn’t want any visitors. You said yesterday you didn’t want anyone to see you like this.”
“I don’t. But what the hell? I’ll do a deal with you. I have to meet him and if I think he’s a good guy, you can keep seeing him, and if not, you have to end it.”
Steffi is aghast. “That’s horrible! That’s emotional blackmail. I can’t agree to that.”
“Yes, you can. Go on. I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“Maybe I’ll bring him over, but I won’t agree to anything else.”
“Okay.” Callie smiles. “That’s enough.”
“Call?” Steffi says, after a few minutes, swallowing because these are hard words to say. “If you don’t make it, if this . . . doesn’t work, have you thought about Reece?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you. You’ve probably been going through lists of single or divorced women you know, figuring out if any of them would fit with Reece.”
Callie grins. “I have. Is this a sick conversation, or what? But yeah, of course I have. There is one woman but I don’t really know her. She’s a friend of Vicky’s, one of the moms in Eliza’s class. She’s a redhead, and Reece has always had a bit of a secret thing for red-heads, and she’s very cool. She’s fun, and funny. I could see them fitting together.”
“So if you don’t make it,” Steffi can’t actually say the word, “should I try to find her?”
“Give it about two years. He’ll need time to grieve. Oh Steff . . .” Callie looks up as Steffi chokes, suddenly, on a sob.
“I’m sorry, Call.” She struggles to regain her composure. “I shouldn’t have even said anything.”
“Yes, you should. I love that you did. I love you so much, Steffi. You’re the best sister anyone could ever have wanted, and I will always love you. Remember that. Wherever you are, and wherever I am, I am still going to love you. Always.”
“Okay.” Steffi’s chest is heaving. She can’t say anything else.
“And by the way, I’m not going to ask you to marry Reece because you’d drive each other nuts.”
Steffi smiles through her tears. “Okay. That’s one weight off my chest.”
“I have to go back to sleep now, sweetie. I’m so tired. Bring the guy. I don’t even remember his name. Goddamned chemo radiation brain,” she mumbles, as she closes her eyes and sinks back into sleep.
Reece is downstairs in the kitchen, warming up dinner. He peers out of the kitchen window to watch the snowflakes. It is dark outside, and cold, but the external lights are on and Walter is out there with the kids, trying to teach them how to make snow angels.
Lila walks into the kitchen, her arms filled with laundry.
“Reece, honey,” she says. “I love you, but you need some serious help.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, no human being can cope with this amount of laundry. I’ve got the clothes of four adults and two children, and I can’t manage this. We need to find someone to work here, a housekeeper.”
“Honor can do it, can’t she? I’ll ask her.”
“No, Reece. Honor’s, what, almost seventy? You can’t ask her to start ironi
ng. She’s here to look after Callie, primarily, and her grandkids. Not be a housekeeper. She’s already a full-time nurse. We need to find you someone, pronto.”
“Okay.” Reece shrugs. “Whatever you think.”
“Good. Callie has trained you well.” She disappears for a second, to put the laundry down, then comes back in. “Want me to set the table?”
“Sure. Hey, Lila?”
“Yes?” She turns around, halfway to the cutlery drawer.
“I just want to say thank you. For everything you’re doing, for being the friend you are. You’re amazing.”
“Thank you,” she says. Tears well up in her eyes and Reece walks over to give her a hug.
But in the end, it is Reece who can’t let go.
By seven o’clock, there are ten people in the kitchen. Immediate family, including Lila, and four friends of Callie’s who have arrived with various casseroles and bunches of flowers.
Now that word has got around that it is serious, people keep dropping in unexpectedly. At first, Reece thought they were coming to see Callie, that they would disappear when he told them, as nicely as he could, that she wasn’t up to seeing visitors. Still they keep coming, sitting around the island in the kitchen, drinking tea, or, in the late afternoon, wine.
Finally, he has realized that friends keep coming to be with the family. Friends who are as scared, and sad and lost, as everyone else, and who need to have a connection, if not with Callie, then with the next best thing, for there is a tremendous comfort in all of them being together.
It is usually at five o’clock, when everyone is home, winding down, gathering around the island in the kitchen, that the callers start to arrive. It is not until late in the evening that the house is finally quiet. And when everyone has left and Reece goes upstairs to be with Callie, the only hum is that of the boiler, and a steady stream of sadness.