Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(64)

I could see his point.

Macy joined the conversation, telling us about the mural and the patients she'd seen coming in and out during the day. Sammy lay next to her, as close as he could get without sitting right on her.

It soon became apparent that Harvey had tired himself out and needed to go inside. I started to help him up, which he didn't appreciate, slapping my hand away. "Leave me alone," he snapped, "and allow an old man his pride."

Macy stood beside me and watched as her friend and neighbor walked slowly toward his house. The instant he was out of earshot, she bombarded me with questions.

"Well?" she asked, sounding nearly breathless. "Can you tell what's making him so weak? He's sick, isn't he? I mean, really sick? Were you able to convince him to make a doctor's appointment? You led into that subtly, I hope."

"Let's go inside and talk," I said, dreading this conversation. I hadn't been eager to meet Harvey, but to my surprise I liked the old man.

I followed her lead, climbing over the low fence, Sammy by our side, accompanying us every step of the way.

"It's bad, isn't it? You don't need to mince words with me. I just want the truth. Don't be afraid to tell me." She was walking backward as we crossed her yard. We entered her small house through the back porch.

I gestured to a chair in the breakfast nook and, once she'd sat down, I pulled out the adjacent chair, turning so that I faced her directly.

She blinked at me. "He's dying, isn't he?"

I nodded rather than speak the words aloud.

"We've got to do something," she insisted, half rising out of her chair.

I gently placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her down. "Macy, he knows he's dying and it's all right with him."

"It isn't with me!"

"Harvey's ready to die."

"He might be, but I'm not ready to lose him." Big tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"It's not really up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"At the end of her life, Hannah refused further chemotherapy," I told her, my voice low and to my embarrassment riddled with remembered pain. "She knew it was useless and asked me to let her die. I wanted to keep her with me as long as I could, but that would've been selfish. I had to accede to her wishes. Harvey is asking the same of you."

Macy sniffled and the cats gathered around her feet as if to offer comfort. Sammy stood guard and eyed me, his message clear--if I made one wrong move I'd pay.

"I'm sorry," I said and instinctively put my arms around her. Then for reasons I may never understand, I bent down, moving my head toward hers, and sought out her lips. We kissed. This wasn't a peck on the cheek or the friendly kiss I'd exchanged with Winter and Leanne. This was a Kiss with a capital K, a real kiss that shocked me to the very marrow of my bones.

We broke apart as if we'd suddenly realized what we were doing. Macy looked, if anything, even more unsettled than I felt.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" She couldn't possibly be thanking me for the kiss.

"For spending time with Harvey and for telling me about Hannah's request."

"Sure," I said, striving for levity. "Happy to help."

I left shortly afterward, confused about what had made me kiss Macy and, more importantly, why I'd enjoyed it so much.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I didn't sleep well that night. I wasn't surprised when Macy didn't show up on Thursday. By her own admission she wasn't good at completing projects. But this mysterious absence was due to more than that. I knew it in my gut, the same way I knew the kiss we shared was special. "Have you heard from Macy today?" I asked Linda. I didn't want to say too much but I was curious. She might have called with a plausible excuse that Linda hadn't bothered to pass on.

"No. You mean you haven't, either?" Linda's eyes narrowed slightly. "You didn't say anything to upset her, did you?"

"Me?" I asked. I shot Linda a hard look, but not because I was angry. I might be her employer, but every so often she slipped into the role of substitute mother. I was astonished at how willing Linda was to come to Macy's defense.

I tried to minimize my interest by saying in a calmer voice, "I'm sure Macy will be in later this afternoon. If not, she'll be here tomorrow."

"I'm sure she will," Linda said, then added, "We just love her."

I looked to my trusted nurse for an explanation. I didn't quite understand how this had happened. Had they all fallen for Macy? In less than two weeks?

Linda's mouth quirked with the beginnings of a smile. "Well, first, I don't suppose you've noticed, but she chats with all the children before and after their visits."

Linda was right; I hadn't noticed.

"It's like watching you with the kids. They take to Macy immediately."

That made sense now that she'd mentioned it. As I'd observed before, Macy was like a child in her whimsies and enthusiasms. "What does she talk to them about?"

"All sorts of things. With the Branson boy, she showed him the lion hiding in the grass, and with the Farinelli girl she chatted about hair clips. She and Ellen Roche discussed dogs at great length. The children relax and laugh, and it makes their visits here less stressful. I haven't figured Macy out, but I like her."