Meghann set the Hope file on the nightstand. “It’ll grow back.”
“Yeah.” Claire sighed and closed her eyes.
Meghann backed out of the room. At the doorway, she stopped.
Her sister lay there, barely breathing it seemed, with her eyes closed. Strands of hair decorated her pillow. Very slowly, still not opening her eyes, Claire brought her hands up and started touching her wedding ring. Tears leaked down the sides of her face, leaving tiny gray splotches on the pillow.
And Meghann knew what she had to do.
She closed the door and went to the phone. All of Claire’s emergency numbers were on a notepad beside it. Including Bobby’s.
Meghann dialed Bobby’s number and waited impatiently for him to answer.
In the past twenty-four hours, Claire had lost almost half of her hair. The bare skin that showed through was an angry, scaly red. This morning, as she got ready for her appointment, she spent nearly thirty minutes wrapping a silk scarf around her head.
“Quit fussing with it,” Meghann said when they arrived at the Nuclear Medicine waiting room. “You look fine.”
“I look like a Gypsy fortune-teller. And I don’t know why you made me wear makeup. My skin is so red I look like Martha Phillips.”
“Who is that?”
“In the eighth grade. She fell asleep under a sunlamp. We called her Tomato Face for two weeks.”
“Kids are so kind.”
Claire left for her treatment and was back in the waiting room thirty minutes later. She didn’t bother putting the scarf back on. Her scalp was tender.
“Let’s go out for coffee,” she said when Meghann stood up to greet her.
“Coffee makes you puke.”
“What doesn’t? Let’s go anyway.”
“I have to go into the office today. I’ve got a deposition scheduled.”
“Oh.” Claire followed Meghann down the hospital corridor, trying to keep up. Lately, she was so tired it was hard not to shuffle like an old woman. She practically fell asleep in the car.
At the condo door, Meghann paused, key in hand, and looked at her. “I’m trying to do what’s right for you. What’s best.”
“I know that.”
“Sometimes I screw up. I tend to think I know everything.”
Claire smiled. “Are you waiting for an argument?”
“I just want you to remember that. I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Okay, Meg. I’ll remember. Now go to work. I don’t want to miss Judge Judy. She reminds me of you.”
“Smart-ass.” Meg looked at her a moment longer, then opened the condo door. “Bye.”
“This is the longest farewell in history. Bye, Meg. Go to work.”
Meghann nodded and walked away.
When Claire heard the ping of the elevator, she went into the condo, closing the door behind her.
Inside, the stereo was on. Dwight Yoakam’s “Pocket of a Clown” pumped through the speakers.
Claire turned the corner and there he was.
Bobby.
Her hand flew to her bald spot.
She ran to the bathroom, flipped open the toilet lid, and threw up.
He was behind her, holding what was left of her hair back, telling her it was okay. “I’m here now, Claire. I’m here.”
She closed her eyes, holding back tears of humiliation one breath at a time.
He rubbed her back.
Finally, she went to the sink and brushed her teeth. When she turned to face him, she was trying to smile. “Welcome to my nightmare.”
He came toward her, and the love in his eyes made her want to weep. “Our nightmare, Claire.”
She didn’t know what to say. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d burst into tears, and she wanted to look strong for him.
“You had no right to keep this from me.”
“I didn’t want to ruin everything. And I thought … I’d get better. You’d dreamed of singing for so long.”
“I dreamed of being a star, yeah. I like singing, but I love you. I can’t believe you’d hide this from me. What if …”
Claire caught her lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t trust me. Do you know how that feels?” His voice was tight, not his voice at all.
“I was just trying to love you.”
“I wonder if you even know what love is. I’m in the hospital every day, honey, battling for my life, but don’t you worry about it, just sing your stupid songs. What kind of man do you think I am?”
“I’m sorry, Bobby. I just …” She stared at him, shaking her head.
He grabbed her, pulled her toward him, and held her so tightly it made her gasp. “I love you, Claire. I love you,” he said fiercely. “When are you going to get that through your head?”
She wrapped her arms around him, clung to him as if she might fall without him. “I guess my tumor got in the way. But I get it now, Bobby. I get it.”
Hours later, when Meghann returned to the condo, the lights were off. She tiptoed through the darkness.
When she reached the living room, a light clicked on.
Claire and Bobby lay together on the sofa, their bodies entwined. He was snoring gently.
“I waited up for you,” Claire said.