The Mother's Promise(84)

Alice pulled herself upright. “What did you say?”

Alice must have been hallucinating, because she could have sworn she saw him then, standing right behind Sonja.

Dr. Sanders.

She was going to faint.

Sonja turned, just as startled as Alice. “George?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Sonja’s face became pure white. Alice registered it only for an instant before she grabbed the door, and shoved it closed with all her might. But it jammed, a few inches short of shut. Alice looked down and saw Dr. Sanders’s foot wedged in the opening.





68

Zoe was making out with Harry on his sofa, which looked like Barbie had barfed on it. Bits of tiny pink clothing kept appearing between their bodies and the cushions, and were scattered across every surface, along with tiaras, tutus, and fairy wands.

“What is this?” Zoe said, holding up what looked like a tiny, sequined bikini top.

“It’s Maggie’s,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously? This stuff’s not yours?”

“You’re pretty funny, you know that?” Harry said, mock-annoyed, but it quickly descended into more making out. It was playful at first, but it soon became more intense. Harry cupped her face in his hands and then gently slid his hands down her body. Finally he rolled over so he was hovering over her. “You’re not laughing anymore,” he commented, kissing her neck.

“No,” she agreed. She felt hot, but not in the usual way. In a good way. She found herself wanting to take things further. But every time her thoughts got carried away she suddenly snapped out of it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, breaking off.

“What’s up?” he said, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

She sat up. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I was thinking about my mom.”

Harry gave her an abashed smile. “I’ll try not to take that personally.”

“She’s sick, Harry. Really sick.”

His smile fell away.

“But she’s pretending she’s not. Pretending or, I don’t know … maybe she is delusional.”

“She probably is,” he said. “Who wouldn’t be delusional? She has cancer. She’s choosing to believe that she’s going to live. The only alternative is to accept that she’s going to die.”

“I guess,” Zoe said. “It’s just … weird. She’s making plans for next year, and the year after that. She never even used to make plans for next week!”

Harry shifted on the couch, so they faced each other. “When I got sick, I told myself that I was fine. That it was a virus, that it would pass, that I’d be back playing football in a week or two. Even after months of it, I was convinced it would be resolved. Even after I was diagnosed with Crohn’s I didn’t believe it. Check my browser history to see how many times I Googled ‘people misdiagnosed with Crohn’s disease’! I was in denial. And with good reason. I wanted a normal life. Your mom has even more reason to be in denial. Cancer can kill her.”

“So what made you accept it?”

“My body.” He smiled sadly. “Eventually I realized that wishing for things to be different wouldn’t change anything.”

Zoe felt a stab of pain right around her heart. “So … what should I do?”

“Just be there for her. Either she’ll accept it … or she won’t. And whatever is going to happen will happen anyway.”

Zoe had heard people talk about how grief came in waves, ebbing and flowing. It had been that way for her. Some moments she felt almost normal—at least as normal as she could feel. Other moments it lapped around her. But now it hit her like a tidal wave.

“When will the moment come for me to accept it?” she asked brokenly, and she buried her face in Harry’s chest and began to cry.





69

“Alice. Please hear me out.”

Dr. Sanders was in Alice’s doorway. He was trying to get inside. When this happened in her nightmares, Alice was ready. She had a weapon and superhuman strength. She had all the lines ready to demoralize and humiliate him, the way he had done to her. But today she had none of those things. She only had one thing in her favor and it was the most important.

Zoe wasn’t home.

“Get your foot out of my door.” Alice’s voice sounded much more impressive than it felt. It boomed. She could feel her face, taut and mean—her don’t fuck with me face. But she had nothing to back it up. She was weak, and already losing the battle on the door. With a single shove, he could throw the door open, and send her flying across the room.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Alice,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

“About what?”

Dr. Sanders, she noticed, was ignoring Sonja. Though, from the way he’d greeted her he clearly knew her. But how? For now, Alice was too panicked to try to figure out the connection.

“I want to talk about Zoe,” Dr. Sanders said.

A chill ran the length of Alice’s spine. “What did you—?”

“My daughter. Zoe. I know all about her,” he said. “You and I have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alice said weakly.