The Words We Leave Unspoken(13)

“I can’t,” I whisper, shaking my head.

“Break your rules, just this once. Stay with me.” His long arms wrap around me tighter as he buries his face in my cleavage.

“I can’t,” I say again as I reach behind me and pull at his hands until he releases me.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” I say as I turn toward the door, leaving him there, alone, his brown eyes filled with defeat.

Walk away Charley, I tell myself. Part of me wants to stay. But most of me knows what will happen if I do. Nearly all of me knows how vulnerable I become if I stay. People always leave. It might as well be me.

I pull the door closed behind me and walk swiftly to the elevator, pushing the down arrow, begging for a quick escape. “Come on,” I say to myself as I hit the button several more times, looking up at the floor numbers as they light up one by one until the elevator dings and the doors slide open. A middle-aged woman is inside wearing navy velour sweat pants and a shiny, red raincoat, holding a small, brown long-haired dog in her arms. She flashes me a fleeting smile as I step inside and I only nod, moving to the back corner of the elevator where I lean against the wall as if I need its support to hold me up. As the doors slide closed, I feel the tension drain from my body and let out a loud breath - one that I didn’t realize I’d been holding.





Chapter 9





Gwen


I open my small suitcase and begin to pack for the weekend, wondering what I should wear when I tell my husband that the cancer is back and maybe for good this time. We’re taking the ferry to San Juan Island for a night away. I booked a room at our favorite bed and breakfast near the harbor. I’m filled with worry when I think of leaving the children with Charley but I know that this weekend is a necessity and there’s no backing out. I have texted Charley numerous times over the past few days to make sure that she’s prepared to stay the night alone with the kids. I normally wouldn’t leave them with her for that long, but I’m not about to add my mother to the mix. I can’t deal with her when I’m barely holding myself together.

The week flew by unexpectedly as I buried myself in my daily routine. The house has never been so clean. It was almost as if I could forget what was happening, until the still of night when I lay awake and could practically feel the cancer eating away my insides. The painful lump in my armpit, pulsating with life. I called all three oncologists that Charley’s ex recommended, but after speaking to Dr. Sheldan over the phone, I knew he was the only one I wanted to meet. He seemed optimistic and knowledgeable, granting me a small measure of hope; which is more than I can say about the others. My appointment is on Monday morning and, to be honest, I’m more nervous about telling John the news than I am about meeting with Dr. Sheldan.

I pack for cold weather and rain, adding John’s things as well and join John and the kids in the kitchen where the smell of toaster waffles wafts in the air.

“All set?” John asks as he swats my behind playfully with a kitchen towel.

“Yep. I just hope the kids are,” I mumble under my breath while I glance at Olivia and Max sitting at the counter, shoveling bits of waffle in their mouths as if they haven’t eaten in weeks. Their waffles are drowning in maple syrup. No matter how many times I remind John not to let the kids pour their own, it happens anyway and now I find myself mentally calculating how many grams of sugar are pooled on their plates. But it’s not worth mentioning now when my mind is full of so many other concerns.

“They’ll be fine, Gwen. Charley will be fine,” John assures me and then places a gentle peck on my cheek, running his thumb over my furrowed brow. This small gesture reminds me to take a breath and relax, an unspoken message that John has mastered over the years.

As if on cue, the doorbell chimes and Max squeals, “Aunt Charley’s here,” as he barrels out of the kitchen toward the front door. A moment later, Max is pulling Charley back into the room with a huge grin on his face.

“Hi,” she says, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She’s wearing ripped jeans rolled at the ankle with worn black booties and a sweatshirt. Her dark hair is down and windblown into a frenzy around her face that bares no makeup. And still it’s hard to ignore her beauty.

“Hey,” I say, giving her a hug while John kisses her on the cheek and mumbles, “Good to see you.”

It’s hard to miss the way Charley avoids looking John in the eyes as she says, “Great to see you too, John.” And then she quickly focuses on Olivia.

“Hey Olivia, how’s my favorite niece?” Charley asks, making her way around the kitchen island to hug Olivia.

“I’m your only niece,” Olivia reminds her in a tone that instantly fills me with shame.

“Right, you got me there,” Charley frowns. “But still my favorite,” she says in a sing-song voice.

“Okay so here’s the kids’ schedule and some ideas for meals and snacks,” I say, wasting no time as I slide a stack of papers across the counter. “Also, the number to the place we’re staying and our emergency contacts. You know our neighbor Kristin, and my friend Colleen. Also the number to the...” my voice trails off as I suddenly think of the pediatrician. I look at John and he gives me a nudge. I have to leave the number to the pediatrician’s office in case of an emergency. I send out a silent wish that Charley will never need to call this number for all our sakes. I pull myself together while Charley stares at me, completely puzzled. “Um, the number to the pediatrician’s office and the hospital.”