Long Time Running

by Foster, Hannah

  And the price she continued to pay. Nathalie was sure that these headaches, these pains that could stop her cold, were part of the payment.

  Nathalie smirked as she slowly opened her eyes. "You know Mylea, before I became a generalist, I was a specialist - a neurosurgeon in fact - I know when it's a headache brought on by the heat and when it's something more. It's just the heat."

  Or penance, she added silently.

  "Of course" the nurse replied flatly. "At least go home - you need some rest Nathalie."

  Nathalie knew that if Mylea was calling her by her first name at work then she was really worried. Not wanting to upset her friend further she acquiesced. "Yes ma'am" she said.

  Unsteadily, she got to her feet and pulled her stethoscope from her neck. "Maybe I'll be really lucky and Keith will have cooked."

  With the older nurse waving her out the door, Nathalie headed down the worn stone steps at the front of the hospital and down the road home.

  As she opened the front door she was greeted by a warm, sweet curry scent floating from the kitchen through the house. She smiled to herself as she closed the door behind her. Keith was definitely here and her favorite dish was stewing on the stove. She felt spoiled.

  Keith Wilson was a freelance journalist working in Tanzania who had come to the hospital a year ago to do a story. Nathalie had been taken in by his intelligence and warmth. Not much taller than she was, he had a great shock of red hair and warm friendly brown eyes. Quiet and thoughtful, he had trailed her for a week, peppering her with questions. Nathalie had seen the interest in his eyes but had been unable to respond in kind. Too much of her soul had been given away. And the rest was too damaged to be given.

  Relentlessly he had refused to let her hide and after many late dinners, he had been rewarded with a kiss. Nathalie had been rewarded with a man who was loyal, engaging and deeply compassionate. What she felt for him was not the gravity-defying love she had experienced before but he was a good man and he loved her and that was enough.

  "You cooked" she greeted him, sliding her arms around his neck and brushing her lips against his.

  "You're late" he remarked softly quickly returning her kiss. "I thought your shift ended hours ago."

  "You know how it is" she demurred. "Anyways I'm here now and dinner smells amazing."

  "I'm glad" he said, stepping out from her embrace. "I tried to wait for you but I was too hungry so I went ahead and ate. I'll get your plate."

  Sensing his disappointment she exhaled slowly. "Keith I'm-"

  "-sorry" he finished for her. "I know. You're always sorry, you're just never here."

  Her green eyes widened in surprise.. "I'm never here? You were gone for a week to Cape Town to cover the AIDS conference."

  "I was gone for two weeks" he corrected sadly. "Two weeks. But you're so wrapped up in your work you don't even notice. It's hard enough not to have all of your heart" he told her as he gave a withering glance to the locket around her neck. "But I really wish that wish that you would at least make an effort."

  Nathalie took a step back, stung by his words. "Keith-"

  He raised his hand, shaking his head. "Nathalie, I'm tired, you're tired, let's table this for another day. Have a seat and I'll prepare you a plate."

  Her heart sank at the resignation in his voice; she cared for him deeply and hated hurting him in any way. She smiled sadly and nodded. "I'm just going to wash my hands."

  Heading down the narrow hallway to the bathroom, she closed the door and turning on the taps, reached for the soap. She bowed her head momentarily in an attempt to regain her composure; the ache in her heart transmitting itself through her entire body. As she did so, her hand trembled and small beads of perspiration formed on her forehead.

  "No, no, no, no" she muttered, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. It was but a moment before the tell tale pounding in her head began and as her legs shook, she gripped the side of the sink trying to ride out the coming seizure. An alkaline taste formed in her mouth and her vision went blurry before finally going black crumpling her.

  Chapter 2

  Leaning against the door of the living room Eric smiled to himself as he watched Jack pressed up against the corner of the chocolate brown leather sofa. Deeply engrossed in the book he was reading, the young boy was pulling absently on his bottom lip; it was a move he was all too familiar with as he often struck the same pose while reading or studying.

  Jack was the very best he and Nathalie had to offer. He was bright and curious; he laughed easily and was incredibly stubborn once he made his mind up. While he mostly saw Nathalie in him, every once in a while he would catch a glimpse of himself in his son and it still surprised him at how fulfilling that feeling was.

  Eric Smitherman Senior was a difficult man with exacting standards and where most fathers loved their sons, he merely tolerated his. From the time he was a small child he had felt the burden of expectation and the bitterness of disappointment. His father had had grand plans for him and expected him to do exactly as he told him to, without question. Eric's house had not been one filled with love or laughter. His mother had lived in fear of his father and his father used his approval - or his son's need for it - as a weapon. He had considered it nothing short of a miracle that he had been able to fall in love and be a good partner. Feeling his father's imprint on him, he had believed it impossible to offer the same to a child. He was shocked at just how wrong he had been.

  "Hey buddy, you almost ready? Aunt Sarah will be here soon."

  Looking up from his book Jack nodded. "Eric?"

  "Yes?"

  "Am I sleeping over on Friday?"

  "Not this weekend Jack - I'm working. But I've booked next weekend off and I got us tickets to the Yankees."

  His green eyes widened in shock. "You did?"

  Grinning, he nodded. "Andrew is coming and there's an extra ticket for you to bring Stephen if you want."

  "Like a guys' night out?" he asked.

  Eric chuckled. "Exactly. A guys' night out at the game."

  Scrambling from the couch Jack sprinted across the room and threw his arms around Eric, squeezing him tightly. "You're the best Eric."

  Too overcome to say anything, he just hugged him back. A sharp knock at the door broke the moment.

  "That will be Aunt Sarah. Go get your stuff from your room."

  "Okay!" he replied, running down the hallway.

  Eric ambled to the door and opened it. Nathalie's sister could not be more different from her. A district attorney, her dark blonde hair was kept short and while she and her sister shared the same eyes, there was little of Nathalie's humor or warmth to be found in them.

  "Sarah," he greeted her.

  "Is he ready?" she asked, looking past him down the hallway.

  "Almost. You're welcome to come in."

  "No, thank you," she replied perfunctorily.

  It was the same pantomime as it always had been with stilted politeness and long, awkward pauses. They had never been close but the circumstances they now found themselves in seemed to strain an already tenuous relationship. Nathalie had always tried to excuse her sister's coldness by stating that they had dealt with their parents' deaths when they were teenagers in very different ways. Nathalie had embraced life and those around her but Sarah had seemed determine to hold the world at bay.

  "Listen," Eric began, lowering his voice. "I want to revisit the issue of telling Jack I'm his father."

  She violently shook her head. "No."

  "Sarah" he replied, gritting his teeth, preparing himself for battle.

  "Nathalie doesn't want this."

  "Nathalie isn't here!" The exasperation in his voice was total. "What she wants, or wanted, isn't really a factor. One of these days Sarah he is going to need to know I'm his father."

  "You're a father figure, is that not enough?"

  His blue eyes clouded over as he glared at her. "No, it's not."

  "You never wanted kids," she reminded him.

&n
bsp; She always reminded him of that. It was her stick, her card to play against him to keep him in line and remind him of how they all wound up in this position in the first place.

  Exhaling slowly, he tried to keep his fast-rising temper in check. "My wants and my reality haven't matched up for quite a while Sarah. I wanted Nathalie but the reality is she left me with a three line note and an empty apartment. I didn't want children but the reality is I have a son. And I love him. You - you brought him into my life Sarah and I'm tired of you still trying to control everything after all these years as if we are in some kind of holding pattern."

  Adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she gave him a defiant look. "She might come back."

  He shook his head. "She isn't. She isn't ever coming back. Hell, I don't even know where she is but I don't need to know that to know she isn't coming back."

  Their conversation ended abruptly as Jack skidded to a stop between them. He hugged his aunt hello before giving Eric a high five and happily heading out the door.

  As he closed the door, he leaned against it and sighed. He wasn't satisfied with half measures any longer. Fear had dictated his silence for too long; fear he would fail as a father; fear that Sarah would change her mind about having him in Jack's life; fear Nathalie would return to take Jack away. Somewhere, somehow, fear had been replaced with resolve. This was his son - his family - and it was time for him to know.

  Holding tightly to Jack's hand as they walked the two blocks to her apartment, she took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart and replayed the last part of her conversation with Eric in her mind. She had been expecting Eric's push for weeks now. It had been almost a year since the last time he brought up telling Jack the truth and with every goodbye, she saw the despair grow in Eric's eyes.

  Truth be told, Sarah no longer knew the true reasons she fought Eric on telling Jack he was his father. It had started earnestly enough, a sister wanting to respect the plea of her only family. While Sarah didn't have many deep relationships in her life, her relationship with Nathalie was sacrosanct. Or it had been.

  But as time, years, went on Sarah could admit her motivation for keeping the situation status quo had changed. Glancing down at the joyous sound of Jack's laugh, she smiled. She loved this child totally and couldn't imagine her life with out him.

  Fear gripped her heart at the thought of Jack no longer being in her life. She told herself in the early years that she was just doing what Nathalie had asked of her; that long ago conversation still piercing her heart with pain. But as time had passed and she had refused to come home and severed all contact with her, Sarah gradually allowed herself to feel more comfortable about the permanence of Jack in her life.

  Was she an awful person for denying Eric the right to tell Jack he was his father? She had observed them over the years and had no doubt that the both loved each other tremendously. Was it time to break her final promise to her sister? Sarah was afraid in doing that, she would break her own heart in the process.

  "Aunt Sarah?" Jack asked breaking her thoughts.

  "Yeah, bud?"

  "How many days till next weekend?

  "Why?" she asked, curious.

  "Cause Eric said I get to spend next weekend with him!" The seven year responded quickly, the palpable excitement making his small body squirm.

  "Yes, that's the plan" she responded, smiling at how happy he looked at the thought.

  "And, we get to go to a Yankees game!" he added.

  "I thought you were a Mets fan?" she queried.

  "Well, don't tell Eric, for one night I can be a Yankees fan!" he pleaded.

  "It'll be our secret." She confirmed.

  "And you know the best part!? He continued without waiting for a response. "Andrew is coming!"

  Sarah's grasp tightened reflexively at the mention of Andrew's name. "That's great, bud, I know you love guy time with both Eric and Drew."

  "Can we have them over sometime? They haven't been over for dinner in, like, forever."

  "We'll see."

  "Aww, that always means no!" he whined.

  Laughing at his correct observation, she watched as he shrugged and kicked at the pebble at his feet. "You're a smart kid, Jack." Just like your mom and dad, she added silently.

  #

  As she struggled to open her eyes she felt the coolness of the cloth on her forehead. Her tongue swept along the inside of her mouth and she winced as she found the spot where she had bit down on her cheek.

  "Easy Nathalie."

  She recognized the rich voice immediately and pried her eyes open. "M-mylea" she croaked.

  "Shhh" she soothed her, touching her cheek. "Keith called me when he couldn't rouse you from the floor."

  Visions of what had happened flashed through her mind. She could practically feel her legs shake just as they did in the bathroom and despite the soft lighting in the room her head still pounded. Sighing tiredly, she touched her hand to her cheek feeling the small welt from where her face hit the ground.

  "I'm fine" she insisted.

  "Stop it!" her friend hissed. "You have been out for more than an hour. You are not fine and you have not been fine for quite some time" she told her knowingly. "It is time for you to get help."

  "Mylea-"

  "I mean it." There was no mistaking the firm tone to her voice. "You have that young man worried out of his mind."

  "It's just a headache," she denied.

  Mylea fixed her with a look. "You need to stop lying to yourself, to me and to him. Denying what is happening will not change the past and is very unfair to those who love you."

  The door to the bedroom creaked open and Keith paused before rushing in once he saw she was awake. "Nat" he said breathlessly, pressing his lips to her forehead.

  "I'm sorry," she apologized quietly, Mylea's words ringing in her ears. "I didn't mean to scare you."

  He shook his head and brushed her hair from her face. "I was so worried," he admitted. "I love you so much and to find you lying on the floor, not waking up...." His thoughts trailed off. He was unwilling - or unable - to finish them.

  Her fingers curled through his and bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed it. "I'm going to be okay" she reassured him. She wasn't sure what okay meant, all she knew was that she did not want him to worry.

  He nodded. "Mylea has booked an ambulance to take you to Songea."

  Her eyes widened in shock and she looked angrily at her friend. Mylea met her gaze with a determined one of her own, practically daring the young doctor to contradict her.

  "You need an MRI" she told her. "And I have called Doctor Thabo who has agreed to see you tomorrow."

  "I'll go with you," Keith told her.. "I'll be right by your side."

  Knowing she was defeated, she closed her eyes and nodded. She knew she shouldn't feel this way, she knew she should be grateful to have such good people wanting to take care of her but she didn't. She felt as though she was being smothered. She had seen the worst humanity had to offer and had paid dearly when she tried to circumvent it. She no longer had an interest in trying to change the will of the universe and would prefer to just let things happen but she wasn't able to explain that to anyone. Keith would never understand and Mylea would dismiss her as being ridiculous.

  "Just rest Nathalie," Mylea said. "I will get things ready for your trip."

  Nathalie hated the idea of being gone from Mbamba even overnight. She felt grounded and happily tethered here. Going to Songea took her out of her comfort zone and trips had a way of always lasting longer than they were intended to.

  #

  Sitting on the exam table, she chewed nervously on her bottom lip. She hated hospitals - more specifically she hated being a patient. It made her feel as though she were fenced in and she hated feeling as though she had no escape.

  Despite the bumpy terrain, it had been an uneventful ride to Songea. Mylea had arranged for all them to stay with a friend of hers at her house near the hospital. Neither she nor
Keith slept very much that night. He had kept a watchful eye on her and she had tried to reassure him that everything was fine and they would be back in Mbamba before the next day was through.

  "Should it be taking this long?" Keith asked as he paced nervously.

  She shrugged. "I'm sure he's just reading the films."

  "Still." He glanced at his watch. "It's been a while and if it were nothing he would have been back in here to tell us."

  "Keith!" she snapped, "just give it a rest." Seeing his gazed drop she sighed quietly. "I didn't mean to snap."

  With a small smile, he crossed the room and took her hands in his. "And I didn't mean to stress you out."

  Leaning in, she kissed him gently. "Thank you for coming with me." She offered an olive branch.

  Both their heads snapped up as the door opened and the towering Doctor Thabo came in. Nathalie immediately recognized the neutral expression on his face as one disguising bad news. It was a technique she had used herself more than a few times - keep your expressions neutral so as not to unnecessarily alarm the patient. Her grip on Keith's hands tightened.

  "What is it?" she asked in a strangled voice.

  "I believe you have a hemangioblastoma," he began, "located in the cerebellum."

  "How big?" she asked, her hands going clammy.

  "Less than 3 centimeters" he replied.

  Keith watched the two speak and could tell by her sudden pale complexion that it wasn't good news. "Is it cancer?" he asked.

  Nathalie smiled bravely as she shook her head. "No. No, it's not cancer. Hemangioblastoma is benign."

  "But dangerous" the doctor added. "You need treatment." His tone was pointed as he looked at her.