A Walk Along the Beach(54)
“Mark my words!”
I held up my hand, embarrassed and uneasy to be talking about the future, especially knowing that there might not be one for Harper.
* * *
—
We left for Seattle the following morning. Harper had a small bag packed with essentials while at the hospital. A meeting with the team treating her had advised us that following two rounds of chemo she would need a lymphocyte infusion to fight the tumor, since her white blood cells were depleted and unable to aid the body’s fight against the disease. The good news was that Harper would be able to leave the hospital between the chemotherapy sessions, although she would need to remain close by. We were fortunate that Lucas had a two-bedroom apartment and we would be able to stay there.
Harper’s spirits lifted when she learned that John, one of the men she’d trained with for the Mount Rainier climb, was part of the medical team that had been assigned to her. I remembered how her face lit up when she first mentioned him.
With the dire news that the cancer was back, I’d been paying close attention to my sister. It may well have been my imagination, my fears leaping to the forefront of my mind; nevertheless, I noticed a decline in her coloring and in her general appearance, as if she’d recently recovered from a bad case of the flu.
Harper gripped my hand hard enough to capture my attention. “I want you to promise me that if I don’t come out of this, you aren’t going to mope around, bemoaning my fate.”
“You’re going to make it, Harper.” I refused to listen to anything that suggested otherwise.
“I know you, big sister, and how you are. You seem to think your resolve alone will pull me through. You’re strong. So am I. We’re going to fight this together, but if the worst happens, I want you to deal with it, got me?”
“Who’s mothering whom now?” I jested.
“You’re going to do fine without me,” Harper whispered.
That was the first note of defeat I’d heard in her voice since we got the news. Part of me wanted to argue with her, insist she needed to have a better attitude. She was right, though: As much as I would have liked to, I didn’t control the future.
I double-checked my suitcase to be sure I had everything I needed for the next month. Lucas had cleared out the second bedroom in his apartment so I could stay with him. He and Chantelle would take over in the evenings and on weekends as needed. That would give me a chance to return to Oceanside to check on my little café.
Harper’s bag was half the size of mine. She brought a few personal items. A photo of our mother, her Bible, and lip gloss, along with socks and a knitted shawl. The chemo often left her chilled, shaking with the cold, and she wanted to be prepared.
“What about a wig?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not this time. Bald is beautiful.”
* * *
—
The engagement party was fun and exactly what both Harper and I needed before we checked into the hospital. We played silly games, drank wine and spiked punch, and stuffed ourselves with a variety of appetizers and cupcakes, artfully displayed in the shape of a wedding dress.
Lucas had promised to tell Chantelle after the party where Harper and I were headed and that I would be living with Lucas for the foreseeable future. My sister insisted she didn’t want anything to interfere with Chantelle and Lucas’s wedding plans. The date had been set and the arrangements made. No matter what the future held for her, she wanted them to go through with the wedding whether she was there as a bridesmaid or not. I felt she was being a pessimist again but didn’t want to waste her energy or mine arguing.
Once we left the party, Lucas drove us to the hospital. He dropped us off at the front door while he went to park the car.
Harper and I stood frozen in the hospital foyer, unable to move.
My sister was the one who propelled me forward. “Let’s do this,” she said.
I nodded and followed her to the reception desk.
We were prepared and ready for battle.
CHAPTER 21
Sean
The heat of the Philippines was the most intense I’d ever endured. The assignment was multifaceted. Our mission was to look first at the offshore fisheries and then later, if time allowed, the mangrove forest, seeking to document the damage done by climate change. I was working with an entire team of scientists and naturalists.
The days were long, and my thoughts continually drifted to Willa and Oceanside. Long before I boarded the plane that would take me halfway across the world, I knew I would miss her, but I had no clue how strong those feelings would be.
The frustrating part was my inability to connect with her. My guess was that she was working too hard, not caring for herself, because she felt it was her duty to take care of everyone else first. With her brother’s wedding coming in a few months, I could imagine she was doing all she could to make the wedding cake of the century. Curious, I wondered which of the four flavors the couple had chosen. I was hoping for coconut.
Exhausted after a morning-long session of photographs, I returned to our campsite to download the photos I’d gotten earlier. I’d promised Willa I’d be safe and thanked God she couldn’t see some of the crazy chances I took to get the perfect shot.