61
The next afternoon Kate squinted at the figure standing in front of her house. She was bundled in a navy blue coat with a red scarf flapping in the breeze. Her hands were ungloved and clasped together, wringing. Kate raced down the stairs. The house was empty again, for now. David was back from Mexico, but their issues, unfortunately, had returned with him. They’d had a few talks, made a few inroads, but the baby dilemma hovered between them, threatening to ruin every pleasant dinner, every nice conversation. Now, it felt like he was gone more than he was home. And the kids were at Hilary’s this week, which made the house eerily quiet. There was only so much aloneness one person could take.
She opened the front door. “Alice?”
“Hello,” she said, but remained where she was. She looked thin, small. Her face was gaunt, and her head was covered in a red knitted hat.
“Would you like to come in?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Have a seat,” Kate said, once they were inside. Alice seemed strangely stiff and formal. Kate wondered what was going on. “Shall I make coffee? Or tea?”
“I’m fine.” Alice sat in the armchair.
Kate sat opposite. “How are you feeling?”
“Better for not having the chemo,” Alice said. “And worse, for not having chemo.”
“And how is Zoe?”
“She’s involved in her own life. She has a boyfriend, some friends. She’s probably doing better than she ever has.”
“That’s fantastic,” Kate said.
“But I’ve been thinking,” Alice continued. “About what would happen to Zoe … I mean, I have no intention of dying. But it seems the … prudent thing to plan.”
“I see,” Kate said slowly. “Well, yes, that makes sense.”
“Problem is, I don’t have a lot of options.”
“Zoe’s father definitely isn’t a possibility?” Kate asked.
“No.” Alice’s voice was firmer than Kate had ever heard it. At first Kate thought she was going to leave it at that, but then she sighed. “The truth is … how can I put this?… Zoe wasn’t conceived consensually.”
“Oh, Alice, wow.”
“It was the best thing to ever happen to me,” Alice continued quickly. “It gave me Zoe. But, no, Zoe’s father is definitely not an option.”
“Of course not,” Kate said.
They descended into silence again. And Kate had a sudden feeling that she and Alice had become a team. A team responsible for looking out for Zoe. Surprisingly, it was a team she very much wanted to be on.
“Well, how about your brother?” Kate said.
“Paul’s been pretty good these last few weeks. He’s come nearly every time I’ve needed him. But he’s not a potential parent for Zoe.” Alice dropped her gaze. “Kate … Zoe really likes you.”
Kate edged forward, trying to catch Alice’s eye. “I really like her too. She’s a wonderful girl.”
Alice’s face suddenly seemed to spasm. It took Kate a moment to realize she was trying not to cry. “Well, then I hope you’ll humor me when I ask if you’d consider … becoming her guardian. If something happens to me.”
For a moment, silence engulfed them. Kate felt something shift in the room.
“It’s just insurance,” Alice continued, lifting her head now. “I have no plans to die. But … Zoe feels comfortable with you. You understand her. Maybe even better than I do.”
“That’s not true,” Kate said.
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. The fact remains, I think…” Alice swallowed. “I think she’d be happy with you.”
Kate hadn’t seen this coming. And still, somehow, the idea wasn’t shocking. But it wasn’t as simple as that. She imagined bringing this up with David. You know how you don’t want a baby, how about the teenager of one of my dying patients? Just what every troubled marriage needed.
“Oh, Alice, I … I am so touched that you asked me. And you know I adore Zoe. It would be a privilege but … honestly, I don’t know. I have to talk to David and—”
“I understand,” Alice said too quickly.
“I want to be clear,” Kate said. “I care about Zoe. I want Zoe to be all right more than anyone.”
“Not more than anyone,” Alice corrected. “But you’re a close second, and that’s why I hope you’ll take her.”
62
“David,” Kate said. “I have to talk to you about something.”
Kate had been watching David silently for several moments. She’d promised Alice she’d think about her request, talk about it with David, and get back to her. She wanted to wait, to choose her moment, but Kate knew Alice didn’t have much time. Which meant, neither did Kate.
David was pouring himself an after-work Scotch. Without looking up, he said, “Sounds serious.”
“It is. I had a visitor this afternoon. Alice Stanhope. Zoe’s mom.”
David brought his glass over and sat down on the other end of the couch. “How’s she doing?”
“Not so great. There’s a real possibility she won’t make it.”
“Wow,” David said.
“Alice asked if we would take Zoe after she dies.” Kate knew she shouldn’t blurt it out like that, but there was no right way to have this kind of conversation. Tentatively, she looked at David.
“Us?”
“Yes. I said I’d talk to you about it.”
David blinked slowly, taking it all in. Kate steadied herself. The fact that this was the longest conversation they’d had all week didn’t bode well for a positive response. It also, likely, didn’t make them a perfect choice for welcoming a troubled child into their home. Even so, Kate found herself holding her breath. She wanted this, she realized. Not just for Zoe. For herself.
“Well,” he said finally, “what do you think?”
She felt vaguely optimistic that he was, at least, willing to discuss it.
“Well,” she said, tucking her legs up under her on the couch, “on one hand, it’s probably not the best idea bringing a new person into the family when things are not … completely harmonious with us. On the other hand, she exists. A fifteen-year-old girl with severe anxiety is about to lose her mother and have no one left in the world. She can either come to live with us, or she can bounce around in foster care until she is spat out at the age of eighteen. And David … I care about her. I mean … I care about all my patients and their families but … I really care about Zoe.”
David put his glass on the coffee table.
“I’m not trying to emotionally blackmail you,” Kate said.
“I know. It’s just a lot to take in.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. “And it’s very out of left field. But I guess … my initial response is … maybe we should help her.”
Kate suddenly realized she’d been holding her breath.