“Sonja, Kate—we need to talk,” Alice said.
She’d realized, as all mothers did at one point or another, that nothing was about her anymore. Not her cancer. Not even her death. It was all about Zoe. And Kate and Sonja might be the only two women on earth who could help her.
76
Sonja never expected to be invited in to Alice’s room. She expected Alice to scream and cry and threaten her, the way she had when she’d had Zoe put in foster care. To this end, she had brought in a letter which she’d planned to give to Alice. It explained that she’d had no idea that George was Zoe’s father until last week. That since the altercation at Alice’s door, Sonja had resigned from her job, left George, and moved in with her sister, Agnes. Most importantly, the letter explained that she had no intention of letting George anywhere near Zoe. But before Sonja could open her mouth to say any of this, Alice was speaking.
“I’ve asked Kate if she will be Zoe’s guardian,” Alice said. Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact. “I think this is the best home for her, and that Zoe will be happy there.”
“I’d heard you’d asked Kate,” Sonja replied. “And that’s why—”
“I’m assuming,” Alice interrupted, “that if George is your husband, you know what kind of man he is. You know that he wouldn’t make a good father, to Zoe or anyone else.”
“No,” Sonja agreed. “He wouldn’t.”
Alice stopped. “You mean … you agree? That Zoe should go and live with Kate?”
“I do,” Sonja said. “In fact, I’ve spent this morning getting the legal paperwork together so you can make this official as soon as possible. I figured it was the least I could do … after everything.”
Alice appeared to be lost for words.
“I’ve left George, Alice. You may not believe this, but I had no idea that he was Zoe’s father. And I’m going to do everything I can to prevent him gaining custody of her.”
Alice was suddenly teary. “Really? But George … he can be pretty convincing.”
“Yes, but so can I. And I’m pretty experienced in this area.”
“What are you going to do?” Alice asked.
“I’m going to start by filing a restraining order against him. I have documented proof of his abuse, which I want on the record. Then I’m going to do a little digging. My guess is that you and I aren’t the only ones that George has abused. If I can get any other women to come forward, this is just the beginning. I can try to get him deregistered as a therapist. And we may be able to have charges brought against him. No judge in their right mind will give a child to a man like that.”
“Do you really think you can do this?”
For a person who’d been so uncertain of everything these past few years, Sonja had never been surer or more determined. “I do.”
Alice looked from Sonja to Kate. After a long time, she reached out and took Sonja’s hand. “Thank you, Sonja.”
Sonja nodded.
“I’m glad you’re getting away from him,” Alice added.
‘Me too.’
And then, there was nothing left to say. Sonja took a deep breath. This was it. It had been over a decade since she’d been alone. She said good-bye to Alice and Kate, slung her purse over her shoulder, and put one foot in front of the other. She’d be doing that for a while, she suspected. Taking things one step at a time. But Agnes was waiting for her. And she had a lot to do these next few months, making sure George wouldn’t get Zoe.
She made it to the elevator and then out into the foyer. Outside on the street, an ambulance pulled up and people leapt out. A woman walked past pushing a stroller. Sonja moved around them and kept on walking. She wasn’t all alone at all, she realized. There were people everywhere.
77
A few days later Zoe’s mom was doing better. Sitting up in bed. She wasn’t eating or drinking and she still had the strange tube in her nose, but she was alert and oriented. And she wanted to talk.
“You seem better,” Zoe said to her. She was painting her mom’s nails. “Kate says you can leave the hospital tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’m feeling better. These look nice.” She lifted her hands to admire them, then dropped them carefully onto her knees. She was quiet for a long time. “Honey, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I am leaving the hospital in a few days. But … the doctors said I won’t be able to come home.”
“What do you mean?”
“My scans showed that the cancer has spread. There are new tumors on my bowels and that is why I was in such terrible pain.”
“But you’re better now.” It was meant to be a statement, but the sentence rose at its end, seemingly of its own volition.
“Yes,” her mom said. “Because I haven’t been eating or drinking. Everything has been going in and out of this tube. If I start eating and drinking again, this would just happen again.” Her mom took her hand. “When I leave here, hon, I’ll have to go to a hospice.”
“A … hospice?” Zoe reared back. “Isn’t that where people go to—”
“Yes, Mouse.”
Zoe’s hands tented over her mouth. “No!”
“I’m so sorry, honey. I have to tell you the truth.”
Zoe shook her head, a sob building at the base of her throat. “I don’t want to hear this truth.”
“I know. But you can handle it.”
Now the sob burst from her. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Zoe took a deep breath. The rest of what her mom was saying slowly caught up. She wasn’t going home.
“But … what will happen to me?”
“They … they told me that you can come and stay with me at the hospice. After that, I’ve asked Kate if she and her husband would consider becoming your legal guardians.”
“What?” Zoe’s hands fell from her mouth. “But … you hate Kate.”
“I don’t hate Kate. But what’s more important is how much you like her. And how much she cares about you. I believe you would be loved and taken care of with Kate. Nothing is more important to me than that.”
Her mom’s voice was calm and soothing, but she had tears in her eyes. They hovered on her bottom lid, defying gravity.
“I don’t want to live with Kate,” Zoe blurted out, more of a cry than a shout.
“You don’t?” Her mom’s tears started to fall.
“No!”
“Oh.” Her mom wiped furiously against the tears that refused to stop. “Well … who do you want to live with?”
“I want to live with you!” Zoe cried, and she lay down next to her mother. There, in the hospital bed, they sobbed, until their tears mingled together and it was impossible to tell whose were whose.
78
Kate stood in the doorway of Alice’s hospital room. Zoe was curled up on her mother’s bed, asleep. She hadn’t left Alice’s side in nearly a week. Alice had stabilized now and discharge planning had commenced. That afternoon, she would be transferred to a hospice.