Esben is barely through the door when he says, “Allison, I am really sorry. I was being crazy—”
“Stop. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. Don’t.” I touch the place next to me on the couch, and he sits. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to do what you do, on the scale you do. That’s really intense, and I’m sure it can feel . . . useless. That you’re fighting against too much.”
“It does.”
“One negative thing seems like it overrides a thousand positives. In a sea of love, all you see is the one person drowning.”
His defeated face is unfamiliar. “Yes.”
Kerry seats herself on the floor and looks up at him. “If you don’t want to do this anymore, or if you want to take a break, that’s all right.”
His body language, the way he emotes his internal struggle . . . it’s brutal to watch. Esben is at a loss; that’s clear.
He’s thoughtful before he says anything. “I think I should. I’m not sure I have a choice. This has all gotten out of hand, and I can’t control it. I guess I’ve never been able to, but with all of these followers now . . .”
“I know,” Kerry agrees. “Since the fall, your following has grown so fast. You’re at over seven hundred thousand on Twitter. That’s insane. And no one can have that kind of online presence and not take on a whole bunch of assholes in the process. It’s not fair, it’s not cool, and it’s discouraging.”
Sorrow and pain are visible in him. “The BS is all louder than anything else right now. That’s the opposite of what I intended.” He grabs his sister’s hand. “And, Kerry, that’s not your fault. You were doing too much before. Shielding me. I see that.”
“So get off-line,” she offers. “Just get off-line.”
“Allison, are you okay with this?” He turns to me with so much more worry than he should have.
“Absolutely,” I tell him. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. This is supposed to be fun and . . . it’s supposed to spread love. And make you feel good, too. If it doesn’t—then get out.”
He clasps my hand in his and takes a hard breath. “Okay. Okay.”
My phone rings, and the melody of the particular tone sends chills through me. I tense and throw my free hand against Esben’s arm, pulling at his shirt and fumbling for speech. “No. God, no.” Every part of me is shaking and screaming, yet I am barely able to get these words out.
“What?” he asks.
“Allison?” Kerry is by my side.
Before my eyes fill with tears and I can’t see straight, I look at the caller ID and confirm what I know to be true. “It’s Steffi’s number. Esben? It means someone . . .” Christ, I cannot breathe. “Someone is calling to . . . tell me . . .” There is no way to finish the sentence. And I cannot pick up this call.
The room starts to spin, and I hand him the phone.
“You want me to answer for you? You sure?” he asks gently.
I nod.
“Hello?”
His voice sounds funny, muffled by the deluge of panic swirling through my head, and I can’t hear anything else he says. I’m just trying to breathe. It’s not until he shakes me by the shoulders, saying my name sharply, that I refocus.
Esben is on his knees, in front of me now. “It’s Steffi on the phone,” he says.
I stare at him, unable to process those simple words.
“She’s called. She wants to talk to you.”
I shake my head, confused.
“Allison? Steffi is on the phone, and she’s asking for you. This is real. Talk to her.”
“What? What?” I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle the sob that threatens to break through. I look at Esben with desperation and hope and fear.
He makes me take the phone and whispers, “It’s all right. But she needs you.”
“Steffi?”
“Allison.”
Oh God, she sounds so weak.
“I’m here, and I love you,” I tell her instinctively.
“I love you, too. So much.” It’s an effort for her to speak, I can tell. “I made a mistake.”
It’s so hard not to cry. “What do you mean?”
“I thought I wanted . . . to do this alone, but I don’t.”
“Okay. Okay.” Because I must force myself to cope as I never have before, I stand up and walk the room, running my hand through my hair. “Tell me what you need. Anything.” Then I stop and look at Esben.
He is on high alert and nods confidently at me. Whatever I have to do, he’ll help.
“I don’t have long, Allison. I can feel it. The nurses know it, too.” Steffi’s crying breaks my heart, yet again. “I don’t want to go without you. I really need you.”
“I’m coming. I’ll get a flight. I’m coming, I promise.” But as I say this, I realize the problem I’m about to run into, and Esben’s stricken expression tells me that he agrees. “I will be there,” I tell her anyway. “You just hang on, okay? Just hang on.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll call you when I get a flight.”
“My nurses . . . are Rebecca and Jamie.” Her breathiness carries through the phone. “I’m sleeping a lot. So, they may answer. I’ll have one of them text you their numbers. I’m at Cedars-Sinai.”
“Okay, honey. I’m leaving now. I’ll get to you. I will get to you.” It takes all my willpower to hang up and even more willpower not to fall apart. “Steffi wants me there. It’s almost over.”
“I heard.” Esben takes me in his arms and rubs my back. “The airline strike. And it’s spring break. We have a problem.”
I push away and look at him, panicked. “There’s no way I can reach her. What am I going to do?”
He smiles sweetly at me. “I said we have a problem, not that we can’t do this. Kerry?”
She’s next to us in a flash. “I’m ready. Tell me what you need.”
“Start checking flights out of Bangor and out of Boston. Try Manchester, New Hampshire. Anything. We’re getting to LA. One way or another.”
“You’re coming with me?” I drop my head against him in appreciation.
“I think we’re going to have to finagle one hell of a trip, and it’ll be easier if I’m there. That is, if you want me to come, of course.”
“I do. I don’t think I can do this without you.”
“You could, but you don’t have to,” he says as he hugs me. “I need a picture of her. Do you have one on your computer that you can send me?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just do that, then throw a few things in a backpack, and let’s go. I’m driving us . . . somewhere. Kerry? How are things looking?”
“Gimme a minute, gimme a minute . . . I’m trying to find something . . .” She’s shaking her head, though.
“Is Danny around?” he asks.
“No, he left for home already.”
“Then get Jason. We need him. I’ll do a post, and you monitor Twitter, and Jason can stay on Facebook.”
Kerry gives him a friendly shove. “You’re not messing around if you’re bringing in Jason.”
“Shut up. You know I love him.”