All She Needs to Know

by Maria Siano

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-54398-484-2

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-54398-485-9

  For anyone who has ever sought forgiveness, or offered forgiveness

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  Summer Madison crept across the hospital room at Grace Memorial. She shuddered as a shiver raced up her spine. While working on the East Coast the past ten years, she never minded the winters there, glad to have the cruel Wisconsin weather behind her for good. Or so she thought.

  You’ll be back in New York soon, she reminded herself as she reached Faith Sheridan’s hospital bed and extended her hand. "I’m Summer Madison." She smiled and grasped Faith’s hand, careful not to disturb the IV hanging from her arm. "Nice to finally meet you in person, Faith." At the touch of Faith’s ice cold hand, another chill shot through Summer.

  Faith leaned and shifted her weight onto her hip. "Thanks for agreeing to meet me here in the hospital, Summer. Sorry for the last-minute change."

  "If you’re not feeling up to it..." Summer’s body tensed as the steady beeps from the machines monitoring Faith’s vital signs filled the room. "...We can still reschedule." Summer managed to force another smile.

  Faith let out a sigh. "No, I definitely want to do the interview today." Faith’s eyelids drooped and then flapped a few times as she fought to keep her eyes open.

  Summer scooted around to the other side of the bed and removed her puffy coat, the only protection that could block the fierce January winds in Spring Valley. As she laid the coat over the back of the plastic chair, a middle-aged woman rushed into the room.

  Faith pointed to the fifty-ish woman beside her. "This is my mother, Caitlin."

  Summer stretched her hand across the bed. "Hi, Mrs. Sheridan. I’m Summer Madison, a reporter with the Observer."

  Caitlin grasped Summer’s hand. "Thanks for coming out in this weather, Summer. Wisconsin in January is always so brutal, isn’t it?"

  Summer nodded. Yes, brutal is the right word.

  Caitlin turned toward her daughter. "Faith, are you sure you want to go through with this?"

  "Mom, I’m sure!" Faith threw her head back against the pillow.

  Summer suspected the two had already argued about this. Maybe more than once.

  And Summer understood Caitlin’s uneasiness. A few months earlier, just a few doors down the hall, Summer’s mother lay in a hospital bed, and Summer’s overprotective nature seemed to irritate her at times, just as Caitlin’s concern now seemed to be grating on Faith.

  Caitlin gripped Faith’s hand. "If you’re sure you want to do this, then I guess I’ll leave you two to talk." Caitlin kissed Faith on the forehead and then turned and headed toward the door.

  As Caitlin reached the doorway, Faith let out a long breath. "My illness has been hard on my mother," Faith whispered as she rested her head against the pillow.

  "I’m sure your mother wishes there were more she could do for you." Summer sat in the chair beside the bed and fished inside her bag. She tried to ignore the sickening antiseptic smell that permeated the air as she pushed aside the tape recorder and lifted her notebook out of the bag. She dug back into the bag, even deeper this time, and finally located the pens that settled at the bottom.

  Summer flipped open her notebook and skimmed the list of interview questions scrawled on the first page. Then she glanced up at Faith.

  Faith blinked a few times before her eyes closed.

  Should they heed Caitlin’s warning and reschedule the interview? Summer wondered.

  Faith’s eyes popped open. "I keep telling my mother this is something I have to deal with myself," she blurted.

  "If you’re sure you’re up to telling your story now..." Summer searched for any hint of hesitation from Faith. And not only because she wanted to get out of that hospital room as soon as possible. In her ten years as a journalist, she’d never pressured any of her sources. She didn’t want to pressure Faith if she was having any doubts about giving the interview.

  "At first I didn’t want to talk about my illness publicly." Faith’s voice cracked. "But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to let other people my age know it can happen to them." Faith sat up and leaned against the two pillows behind her. "At 23, I never expected to be diagnosed with Hodgkin’s."

  "By telling your story in the Observer, you’ll help so many other people," Summer assured Faith as she recalled what her own life was like as a 23-year-old, ten years ago. She had just started her career as a reporter in New York. And she took her health for granted at the time, like most young people do.

  Faith lifted her arm and brushed her hair with her hand. "During the past few months I’ve been following your series in the paper. After reading all of the profiles of others going through health struggles, seeing how willing they were to share their experiences, I knew it was the right thing to do."

  "Your story will make a difference and it will raise awareness about the symptoms of Hodgkin’s," Summer promised.

  Faith slouched lower in the bed. "I hope it helps others avoid the mistakes I made. I knew nothing about the signs of Hodgkin’s before I got my diagnosis. Had I known more, I might have viewed my symptoms differently. And if they caught it earlier, I wouldn’t have needed as many chemo treatments. Maybe my prognosis would be a little bit better." Faith lifted her head from the pillow. "But the treatments are going well."

  "So, tell me about some of those early symptoms?" Summer asked, relieved color had started to return to Faith’s cheeks. "When did you first know something might be wrong?"

  Faith tilted toward Summer. "I felt tired all the time. And after a few weeks, I did suspect something, but I never thought it could be Hodgkin’s —."

  A shadow appeared in the doorway and Faith stopped talking mid-sentence as a man shuffled toward the bed.

  Summer drew in a breath as the familiar athletic frame inched closer. No. It can’t be him, Summer tried to convince herself as her heart pounded. No. No. But with each stride, her suspicions were confirmed.

  Kyle Mills.

  The former teen heartthrob.

  And the guy who broke her heart fifteen years ago when he left Spring Valley, and her, to pursue his acting career in Los Angeles.

  He reached Faith’s bedside. "Faith Sheridan?"

  Faith straightened her back. "Yes..." She started to squirm and struggled to sit up even straighter.

  Summer stretched her hand toward Faith to help her get more comfortable, but then yanked it back. Faith clearly wanted to look less like a patient in front of the celebrity in their midst.

  "I’m Kyle Mills," he said in a muffled tone.

  Faith giggled. "I know."

  Summer lowered her head to conceal a chuckle, too. Surely Kyle Mills, the dreamboat star from Young Love and Heartbreakers, needed no introduction to most women in their twenties and thirties.

  As Kyle looked over at Summer, his eyes widened.

  Thank goodness, Summer thought. He recogniz
es me. At the very least, she wanted him to remember her.

  Kyle stared at Summer. "Is this a bad time?" he asked.

  Faith shot up in the bed. "No! No! It’s a perfect time." She stretched out her arms in front of her. "What are you doing here!?"

  Kyle pointed his thumb over his shoulder but his eyes remained trained on Summer’s face. "My publicist, Maxine, arranged it."

  Summer peered over Kyle’s shoulder. In the doorway, a stout woman in her fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and oversized black, plastic-framed glasses craned her neck to whisper to the gangly photographer towering over her.

  Summer glanced back at Kyle.

  He angled toward Faith and tucked his hands into his pockets. "I wanted to stop by to say hello, and tell you I hope things are going well with your recovery."

  Faith’s cheeks flushed. "Thanks so much for visiting me, Kyle! But I wish someone had warned me so I could have looked more presentable."

  Kyle grinned. "You look great. Anyway, I can’t stay long. I have to get to the theater for tonight’s performance of A Streetcar Named Desire at the Spring Valley Arts Center. I just wanted to make a quick stop, but I see you have company..." Kyle fixed his eyes on Summer again. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything..."

  Summer lifted herself out of the chair. "Hi, Kyle... I’m Summer Madison." Her voice trembled. "I’m a reporter at the Spring Valley Observer, and I’m interviewing Faith for an article. I don’t know if you remember me." Had she misread his expression earlier? "We — "

  "— We went to high school together." Kyle leaned across the bed and extended his hand. "Yes, of course I remember. It’s really good to see you again, Summer." He grasped her hand. And he didn’t let go of it.

  As Kyle clutched Summer’s hand, she studied his face. The strong, square jaw still jutted out slightly, but the rest of his weathered face didn’t quite match the image of the boy she remembered from high school.

  With Kyle still holding her hand, Summer peeked over at Faith. A wide grin and twinkling eyes greeted her back. You’re supposed to be working, Summer reminded herself. Heat rose to Summer’s cheeks as she wiggled her hand to free it from Kyle’s grip.

  Kyle’s jaw stiffened. "I’m sure Faith’s story will be very inspiring." He lowered his head and took a step closer to the bed.

  Kyle and Faith began to talk. But their conversation became a blur of sounds as images flashed in Summer’s mind.

  The first day of school senior year. Kyle strolled into their English Composition class.

  Summer glanced across the bed and confirmed those light brown curls still barely reached the bottom of his neck.

  Bits of Kyle and Faith’s conversation started to float in, between the memories.

  Hodgkin’s...

  Kyle dropped a pile of books onto a small wooden desk in front of Summer and introduced himself to her.

  Prognosis...

  He said he was a new student at the school and had just moved to Spring Valley from Jackson, Wyoming.

  And now there he was, standing in front of her again, dressed nearly the same as the last time she saw him fifteen years ago. Black motorcycle jacket. Charcoal gray T-shirt. Dark indigo jeans.

  Cancer...

  Chemo port...

  So much about Kyle was still familiar.

  Treatments...

  Summer started to sway and her knees gave out. She grabbed for the chair behind her, hoping she wouldn’t faint. She drew in a breath as she sat. Whew!

  Kyle and Faith were so engrossed in their conversation, they seemed not to notice her clumsy maneuver.

  Summer glanced at the doorway. Maxine raised her hand and with a swift wave, she beckoned Summer.

  Summer stood and steadied herself. As the blood rushed back to her head, she gestured for Kyle to sit in the chair. Then she hurried around the bed and crossed the room.

  When Summer reached Maxine, she extended her hand.

  Maxine unfolded her arms and threw out her hand in a quick jabbing motion, almost like a boxer throwing a punch. "I’m Maxine Armstrong."

  Is the gravely voice the result of decades of smoking? Summer wondered as she shook Maxine’s hand.

  Maxine barely grazed Summer’s hand. "This is our photographer, Dex." Maxine pointed to the teenager beside her. "He’s going to take a picture of Kyle and Faith to run with your article. I arranged it with your editor, Drew Henderson."

  "Mmhmm." Summer’s mind reeled. "Okay." Drew never mentioned anything about a photographer. Or about Kyle, for that matter.

  Summer wandered back to the other side of the room and stood beside Faith’s bed. Still in a fog, she listened in on Kyle’s conversation with Faith, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to interfere with Faith’s celebrity moment. But as a has-been actor, does Kyle even count as a celebrity anymore?

  She immediately regretted the snarky thought.

  But Kyle’s film career had ended years ago.

  After he left Wisconsin, in a few short years, he had reached the highest level of success in Hollywood. Then after the release of his second film, he disappeared from the public eye, without explanation. Over the years, she expected he’d eventually resurface, and give a tell-all interview to explain it all.

  But he never did.

  She focused in on Kyle and Faith’s conversation again, hoping he might finally hint at a reason for his stalled career.

  Kyle leaned toward Faith. "How are your treatments going? How many do you have left?"

  A grin formed across Summer’s face. Kyle almost sounds like a reporter.

  Faith’s eyes glistened as she gazed at Kyle. "The treatments are going better than I expected. I have one more left."

  Kyle looked over at Summer. Then he leaned toward Faith again. "I’m sure it’s a relief to almost be done with chemo."

  Faith smiled. "I hope this is the last time I see a hospital room for a while," she whispered. "I can’t wait to get back to a normal life. My friends have been working for the past year, starting their careers. I feel a little left behind."

  Kyle sighed. "Take it from me, careers never go the way you expect. I thought I started my acting career at 18. I didn’t know it would be over by the time I was 22." He let out a loud laugh.

  Faith giggled, but his attempt to show little concern about his less-than-celebrity status didn’t fool Summer.

  Summer felt a breeze as Dex pushed his camera between Kyle and Faith. He held the camera inches from Kyle’s face and snapped a few close-ups, not the slightest bit concerned about intruding. Then he turned and trained the camera on Faith’s face next, still creating a barrier between Faith and Kyle.

  But the click-click-click of the camera didn’t deter Kyle and Faith from their conversation. They talked over the noise of the camera and ignored the disruption.

  Summer felt a light tap on her shoulder. She pivoted toward the doorway.

  Maxine stood a few inches away. Grinning. "Tell your editor we’ll send the photo over to him later today." As Maxine headed for the doorway, with each step, her chunky healed-boots knocked against the linoleum floor.

  "Thanks," Summer said to Maxine’s back. "I appreciate it." She hoped her enthusiastic tone hid her disapproval. While a photo of Kyle would bring more attention to the article, and Faith’s experience with Hodgkin’s might reach even more people, the way Maxine orchestrated all of it with her editor made her uneasy. Why didn’t Drew warn me about Kyle’s visit in advance?

  Dex rested the camera against his shoulder and waved his hand at Kyle. "Over there," Dex ordered as he pointed at Faith.

  Kyle leaned over the hospital bed and put his hand on Faith’s shoulder. After a few more grating clicks, Dex lowered his camera and left the room.

  Kyle extended his hand to Faith. "Thanks for letting me stop in. So nice to meet you."

  "I ca
n’t believe you came to visit me." Faith smiled.

  Kyle walked to the end of the bed. As he passed Summer, he held up his hand, but didn’t say anything. Summer spun around and watched as he reached the doorway. There he goes. Walking out of her life.

  Again.

  "Kyle!" Summer screeched. "Wait!"

  He stopped with a jolt and turned.

  "Can I get a quote from you for the article?" Summer dashed across the room.

  "Okay." He put his hands in his pockets. "Sure."

  "I...I know." She hesitated as she tried to put on a more professional demeanor. "I know readers will be wondering. Why did you decide to make this surprise visit to Faith?" She wanted the answer herself.

  Kyle stared at her, but didn’t say anything. Then he lowered his head. "I guess...I just. I...I wanted to be a distraction...from all of the difficult treatments Faith has to go through." He lifted his head. "I hope my visit cheered her up a bit. I really can’t imagine what she’s going through, and at such a young age."

  "Thanks, Kyle." Summer finished scribbling the comments in her notebook. "Appreciate it." She glanced up.

  She studied his face. One last time.

  He brushed his hand against the side of her arm. "Good to see you, Summer."

  "You too, Kyle." She couldn’t turn away from those green eyes flecked with bits of hazel.

  As Kyle turned and strolled into the hall, Summer inched toward the doorway and watched him follow Dex and Maxine down the narrow corridor.

  In the year she’d been back in Spring Valley, she never imagined she’d run into Kyle.

  He always hated small towns. When he left that February night fifteen years ago, it seemed he’d never return.

  He couldn’t wait to leave Spring Valley.

  To leave her.

  Yikes! The interview. Summer trotted back across the hospital room and sat in the chair next to the bed.

  As she asked Faith the next question on her list, her mind whirled.

  Maxine had gone to so much trouble to arrange for the Observer to cover Kyle’s visit. But an article in a small, Midwestern newspaper like the Observer wouldn’t save Kyle’s non-existent acting career.