A Walk Along the Beach(65)

    “Sleep, then. Call me before you leave and then when you’re close.”

“Do you want me to come to the hospital?”

“Yes, please. Oh Sean, you have no idea how badly I need you…how I have longed to lay my head on your shoulder and have you hold me. I don’t know how much longer I can last without you.”

For Willa to be this vulnerable told me everything I needed to know. My strong, resilient woman was close to the breaking point. Sitting on the edge of my mattress after we hung up, I ran my hands over my face, debating leaving right then. I stood, and to my shock nearly collapsed. Driving, I decided, wouldn’t be a good idea. Instead I climbed back into bed and slept for another eight hours straight.



* * *



—

I left for Seattle as soon as I was dressed and had a mocha. My bags remained unpacked, my seven-plus weeks’ worth of mail still at the post office.

The drive into Seattle took nearly thirty minutes longer than I’d anticipated, with traffic stopped dead due to an accident on the freeway. As Willa requested, I called when I was close to the hospital. She told me the best spot to park and then said she’d meet me in the lobby.

The first thing that hit me when I saw her was how pale and drawn she looked. My girl was hanging on by a thread. As soon as she saw me, she hurried forward, nearly falling into me. The instant my arms were around her, she broke into sobs. Her cries tore at my heart.

I half carried her to a seating area, grateful we could have a few minutes alone. She sat on my lap and my hand cradled the back of her head as she sobbed into my shoulder.

    “I’m here, baby, I’m here.” Knowing I would need to leave again soon tore at my heart. Now wasn’t the time to tell her that only part of the assignment had been completed.

Holding her as I was, I could tell that she’d lost a considerable amount of weight. It was as if she believed that her will and might alone could keep her sister alive. She’d told me when Harper had first developed leukemia three years before that she refused to allow anyone to suggest, think, or even hint at a negative outcome.

“Is she still needing the oxygen mask?” I asked, silently praying that had been only temporary.

Willa’s shoulders sagged as she nodded.

I hated to ask but needed to know. “Did she need oxygen the last time she had leukemia?”

Willa sniffled and shook her head. “It’s…It’s worse this time, but I’m trying not to read anything into this latest development.”

“Don’t let your mind go there,” I said, wanting to be encouraging.

“I’m trying not to. I should get back. I hate to be away from her for too long. She likes me to do everything for her myself other than what’s necessary for the nurses to handle.”

“What about Lucas and Chantelle? Are they helping?”

“Yes. Lucas stops by every day after work and takes over for me on the weekends…but lately Harper only wants me.”

“Can I come with you?”

She nodded, slipped off my lap, and reached for my hand. As we started toward the elevator, she stopped, her shoulders stiffening. “Before you see her, I need to prepare you. Leesa and Carrie came to visit not long ago…I’d tell you when, but the days all run together. They were shaken when they saw how far she’s declined. She’s bald and she’s lost a lot of weight…and”—she paused, hiccupping a soft sob—“she’s very sick.”

It was all I could do not to wrap my arms around Willa again. It hurt me to see her struggle to maintain her hope, her belief. I’d give anything to take her away from all this, but I knew she would never leave her sister. Saving Harper meant everything to Willa. It terrified me to think what would happen to her if Harper lost this battle with cancer.

    “Are you ready?” she asked, after we came out of the elevator. Her hand was clasped in mine.

“Ready,” I said, and walked at her side to Harper’s room.

Silently she opened the door and looked inside. “Harper,” she said gently, “you have company. Sean is here.”

Although she’d prepared me, I nearly gasped with shock. Lying in her hospital bed, Harper was curled in the fetal position, an oxygen mask over her face. When she heard my name, she opened her eyes, which were dull and lifeless. I could see she was making an effort to smile and all that it cost her to do so.

“She’s not having a good day,” Willa said, stepping over to the bed. She gently touched Harper’s face.

Even though it was difficult, Harper smiled.

Willa moved closer to the bed and took hold of her sister’s hand.

Harper lifted the mask so she could speak. “Take care of Willa.”

“Of course,” I said.

“For me,” she added.

“Harper,” Willa said with a forced laugh. “Why would Sean need to take care of me? Dr. Carroll told me he’s getting the okay to try an experimental medication that shows promise.”

Harper’s eyes were closed, and it looked to me as if she was asleep and hadn’t heard a word.

We didn’t stay long. I hadn’t eaten and my stomach growled. Knowing Willa probably hadn’t had much herself, I suggested we go to the cafeteria. She had yet to tell me about Lucas and Chantelle’s wedding.