The Mother's Promise(81)

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.

“We’ll have to speak to the kids about it. But … you’re right. She exists. She has no one. Her mother has come to us. We have to consider it.”

Kate allowed herself to wonder how it might look if Zoe did join their strange blended family. With stepchildren, ex-wives and their new husbands, they all had a story of how they’d come together. Perhaps Zoe would find a place amongst them all?

“Why don’t we talk to the kids tonight?” he continued. “See what they think. Then we can take it from there.”

“Yes,” Kate said. She scooted across the couch and sat beside him. “Yes, okay.”

David reached out and took her hand. That’s when Kate realized. The way you got past an obstacle in your marriage was through trying. David was trying. And so would she.





63

Alice sat on the couch with Kenny in her lap. Across town, Kate would be speaking to her husband, making a decision about whether or not she’d be Zoe’s guardian. It was agony, waiting for someone to make the most important decision of your life.

It got Alice thinking about people. Pre-motherhood, if she had pictured this inconceivable situation, she’d have thought there would be a dozen people willing to take her child. Her child’s father, of course. Her parents. Her friends. And yet, she found herself in the kind of situation that most people swore could never happen to them. With no one. The irony was, since the cancer diagnosis, her life had more people in it than it had had in years. Kate. Sonja. Paul. Andrew. And still, she didn’t have enough people.

She needed someone to talk to, or she’d go crazy waiting to hear from Kate. But it was late, nearly 10 P.M. It was too late to call Sonja and besides, Alice wasn’t sure it would be appropriate. It was another reason people needed multiple friends, she realized. The night owls, the early risers. A friend for every season. She’d missed having friends. She missed having a door that swung continually with neighbors and friends coming and going.

Alice stood suddenly. She strode across the apartment and out into the corridor and knocked hard on Dulcie’s door.

Dulcie answered dressed in a peach candlewick robe, and clasping a steaming mug. “Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”

“Hi, Dulcie. I was just about to put the kettle on. I see you already have a drink, but I wondered if you’d like to join me.”

Dulcie frowned at Alice. “But … it’s ten o’clock at night.”

“Suit yourself,” Alice said. “I’ll be across the hall if you change your mind.”

Alice turned and walked back to her apartment, leaving the door ajar. A few moments later she heard Dulcie’s door close and the sound of her slippers scuffling across the hallway toward her apartment.

“It’s nice to have someone to have a cup of tea with sometimes,” Dulcie said, getting comfortable at one end of Alice’s couch.