A Walk Along the Beach(4)

    “Of course. I’ve tried to talk her out of climbing Mount Rainier, but she won’t hear of it. It’s like she’s flirting with death. Something’s going on with her, but she tells me I’m imagining things. She said if she had a death wish she wouldn’t have fought so hard to win the battle against leukemia.”

“She has a point.”

“I know, but Lucas, my gut is telling me something is up. Like the fact that she doesn’t stay in any relationship for more than a few weeks. That girl has left a string of broken hearts from here to Canada and back.”

Again, Lucas paused, as if taking it all in. “Maybe I should talk to her. Where is she now?”

“Training to climb Mount Rainier. She’s going with a group of other amateur climbers and they have a rigorous training schedule. She’s out every evening strength-and endurance-building, and that’s after teaching several classes during the week.” Little wonder she had the figure of a model.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll make a point of coming to visit this weekend. I haven’t seen Dad in a while. Have you?”

“Yeah. I had him over for dinner last Sunday.”

“How is he?”

“About the same, I guess.” I wasn’t sure what to tell my brother. It was difficult to know with our father. He hid his drinking well. For a long time, I didn’t realize how much he’d come to rely on alcohol.

“I’ll bring Chantelle with me.”

My spirits lifted. I loved Chantelle. She was good for my brother, who worked as a longshoreman on the Seattle docks. Chantelle and Lucas had been dating for two years. I didn’t know why Lucas hadn’t proposed. I’d asked him about it once and got the message this was his business and I was to butt out.

“Would you like me to cook dinner?”

“No, that’s too much work.”

    I appreciated my brother’s thoughtfulness. He knew I set my alarm clock for three-thirty and was at Bean There by four each morning. It’d only been in the last three months that I was grossing enough to hire another baker. Having Shirley take over some of the early-morning responsibilities gave me leeway, and I was grateful. I opened at five and had a steady stream of customers from the moment I unlocked the front door.

“I’ll stop off and check on Dad, too.”

“He’ll be glad to see you.” None of us ever doubted our father’s love. He’d been a lost soul since Mom died. She’d been the love of his life. We all missed her dreadfully. Our mom was the best mother in the world. Sort of a modern-day June Cleaver from the 1950s sitcom Leave It to Beaver.

“I appreciate being able to talk to you about this, Lucas.”

“I’m grateful you reached out. Don’t ever worry that you’re bothering me or that I can’t handle it.”

“I don’t. You’re my rock.”

It was Lucas I’d turned to when Harper’s health had started to go south. At the time he’d been in the military, serving in the Army as an Airborne Ranger. He’d planned to make the military his career. Everything changed when we learned Harper had leukemia. It’d all started so innocently with a bad case of hives.

Hives.

Who would have even suspected those hives were an indication of something far, far worse? Dr. Bainbridge was the local physician at the time. We all assumed Harper had some food allergy. I was allergic to strawberries and it made sense that Harper must be, too, even if it didn’t show until she was a high school senior. But the hives persisted, and my sister was irritable and uncomfortable. When I took Harper back for a second visit, Dr. Bainbridge seemed to think she might have mononucleosis. We teased her and asked who she’d been kissing. Miserable as she was, Harper didn’t take kindly to the joke. Next, Dr. Bainbridge ordered a full set of blood work, and that was when everything changed.

    Even now, nearly three years later, I would always remember the day when the call came. Harper had recently graduated from high school and planned to spend her summer working at a local church camp. Our pastor, Heath McDonald, had written her a glowing recommendation the year before, and Harper was great with the junior-high kids. They’d loved her. The camp was thrilled to have her back and she was just as eager to return.

Dr. Bainbridge gave the news to me instead of our father, knowing I would handle it better than Dad. He said the test results showed Harper had leukemia and that we needed to get her to the University of Washington Medical Center in Seattle as soon as possible so she could be assessed.

Harper was as shocked as we were. We clung to each other the same way we had the day our mother died, weeping, afraid, uncertain of the future. Harper pulled it together before me, asked what she needed to do, and immediately packed a bag and asked that I go with her to Seattle. I don’t think I’ve ever admired my sister more than I did that day.

Our entire world was turned upside down that summer. Lucas was due to reenlist and instead gave up what he’d hoped would be a promising career in the Army. He got an apartment in Seattle and the two of us lived together while I finished up my business classes online. Harper was in bad shape and she needed our support.

Dad came by to visit every now and again. Seeing his youngest daughter deathly ill was more than he could endure. His visits usually resulted in tears and pleading with Harper not to die, as if she had any real control over the outcome. She was desperately ill. Worse than we could have imagined.