His Sugar Baby(68)
“No. She didn’t. She didn’t mention a lot of things.” Michael shook her small gloved hand briefly. “I’m Michael Lambert. And I’m sure that Winter… that she never talked about me.”
“No, she didn’t, at least not very much.” Vicky cocked her head, speculatively eying him. “You didn’t expect this, any of this, did you?” She waved her hand to indicate the hospital.
Michael shook his head. He didn’t bother to say that he hadn’t even met the child, let alone known that she was sick. He had actually told Darryl once that he didn’t care about Winter’s personal life, especially about her child or children. He had been a consummate ass.
“And you called her Winter.”
“She asked me to,” he said shortly, feeling defensive.
Vicky nodded. She turned away from him, her gaze returning to the hospital. She said quietly, “Chloe had been sick a long time, almost three years. She had acute lymphacitic leukemia, which is supposed to be one of the more treatable in children, but in Chloe’s case proved to be atypical. She went into remission once, but the leukemia came back. After that, there was never much real hope with traditional therapy.”
For the second time in the space of ten minutes, Michael was figuratively sent reeling. Leukemia? Her daughter had leukemia?
Unaware of the blow she had dealt, Vicky glanced over at Michael. “The bills were astronomical. When the policy cap was reached, the insurance company stopped paying. Cathy wouldn’t give up. She loved that little girl. She sold her house, liquidated her retirement and IRAs.”
Vicky gave a sudden, short laugh. “She told me once that she even donated her eggs for cash, for God’s sake!” Her smile faded. “She did everything she could, working full-time and taking part-time jobs whenever she was able. Even then, she still tried to spend every free minute she had with Chloe at the hospital.”
Michael poured the rest of the cocoa on the cold pavement. The scent of the chocolate was suddenly nauseating. “I knew that she was divorced and that she had a daughter. I knew that she needed money. She never told me why,” he said in a low, grating voice that he hardly recognized as his own. “I just suspected that she couldn’t get child support from her ex-husband, Rick.”
“She told you about Rick?” Vicky whipped around, shock in her expression. She shook her head. “That really surprises me. It was bad enough that he abandoned her and Chloe, but I think he really tore Cathy’s heart out when he refused to even be tested as a blood cell transplantation donor. It was Chloe’s last chance. She told him that.”
Stunned, Michael drew in a long breath of icy air. What kind of man wouldn’t try to save his own kid? What kind of *… Something echoed in his memory. He narrowed his eyes. “I remember she made a phone call to him that left her upset.”
“Yeah, I guess so! Rick—bastard—Stein couldn’t bother to come across town for Chloe, but Cathy’s sister could come all the way from Singapore!” Vicky’s glittering eyes were hot, her voice bitter. “It was Pam who became the donor for the transplantation. God, I’m so glad it worked! For awhile it looked like everything was going to be okay. I even announced on the website that it had been a success! Then Chloe got an infection, and we all thought…” Vicky ducked her head, her face flushed with anger and grief, and wiped her eyes with the back of her glove. “Sorry! Chloe is like family to me. Even now, I can hardly stand to think about it. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Cathy!”
Michael stared down at her. He carefully kept his expression neutral, even though he could feel the rage inside him boiling just below the surface. “You said this guy lives right here in Austin?” he asked quietly.
Vicky nodded and gave a contemptuous shrug. “He has an office-supply business. Believe me, no one who knows Cathy will buy from him.” She drew herself up, making an obvious effort to turn her own thoughts. “I’m glad you helped her out, Michael.” She took the empty cap from him and screwed it back onto the thermos.
He was stung on the raw. When Vicky glanced back up, she appeared startled by the blazing glare that he had pinned on her. Her expression altered with compassion. “Michael, look. I realize that you and Cathy had some sort of relationship. And that you’re hurt she kept all of this from you. But I don’t think it was from lack of trust.”
He gave a short bark of bitter laughter. “Don’t you?”
Vicky shook her head. “No, I don’t! You have to understand…” She hesitated, weighing her words. “Cathy was under tremendous pressure. She had a sick, possibly a dying, child. She was broke. She couldn’t give up her job to be with Chloe full-time. On top of all of that, she had to be strong, strong all of the time.”
“For her daughter. Yeah, I get that,” he snapped. He plunged his chilled hands into his coat pockets. He was furious, both with Winter and with himself. He should have pressed her. He should have found out why she needed the money. He should have cared more. And damn it, she should have trusted him more!
“Not just for Chloe! For everyone!”
Michael was startled out of his raging reverie by the vehement tone. He watched as Vicky viciously threw the thermos into the car. It thumped and bounced on the floor.
“Everyone who felt sorry for her, including me, who couldn’t see her without oozing sympathy and pity. Everyone who avoided her because they didn’t know what to say. Everyone who tiptoed around her or stopped talking when she walked into the room or who left the room because they were afraid that somehow her bad luck would rub off on them, or—” Vicky abruptly stopped, pressing her lips tight into a thin line.