A Walk Along the Beach

by Debbie Macomber

  “You’re going to have beautiful babies,” she added.

  “Stop.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Harper,” I protested, “you’re getting way ahead of yourself with Sean and me.”

  “Mark my words!”

  I held up my hand, embarrassed and uneasy to be talking about the future, especially knowing that there might not be one for Harper.

  * * *

  —

  We left for Seattle the following morning. Harper had a small bag packed with essentials while at the hospital. A meeting with the team treating her had advised us that following two rounds of chemo she would need a lymphocyte infusion to fight the tumor, since her white blood cells were depleted and unable to aid the body’s fight against the disease. The good news was that Harper would be able to leave the hospital between the chemotherapy sessions, although she would need to remain close by. We were fortunate that Lucas had a two-bedroom apartment and we would be able to stay there.

  Harper’s spirits lifted when she learned that John, one of the men she’d trained with for the Mount Rainier climb, was part of the medical team that had been assigned to her. I remembered how her face lit up when she first mentioned him.

  With the dire news that the cancer was back, I’d been paying close attention to my sister. It may well have been my imagination, my fears leaping to the forefront of my mind; nevertheless, I noticed a decline in her coloring and in her general appearance, as if she’d recently recovered from a bad case of the flu.

  Harper gripped my hand hard enough to capture my attention. “I want you to promise me that if I don’t come out of this, you aren’t going to mope around, bemoaning my fate.”

  “You’re going to make it, Harper.” I refused to listen to anything that suggested otherwise.

  “I know you, big sister, and how you are. You seem to think your resolve alone will pull me through. You’re strong. So am I. We’re going to fight this together, but if the worst happens, I want you to deal with it, got me?”

  “Who’s mothering whom now?” I jested.

  “You’re going to do fine without me,” Harper whispered.

  That was the first note of defeat I’d heard in her voice since we got the news. Part of me wanted to argue with her, insist she needed to have a better attitude. She was right, though: As much as I would have liked to, I didn’t control the future.

  I double-checked my suitcase to be sure I had everything I needed for the next month. Lucas had cleared out the second bedroom in his apartment so I could stay with him. He and Chantelle would take over in the evenings and on weekends as needed. That would give me a chance to return to Oceanside to check on my little café.

  Harper’s bag was half the size of mine. She brought a few personal items. A photo of our mother, her Bible, and lip gloss, along with socks and a knitted shawl. The chemo often left her chilled, shaking with the cold, and she wanted to be prepared.

  “What about a wig?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not this time. Bald is beautiful.”

  * * *

  —

  The engagement party was fun and exactly what both Harper and I needed before we checked into the hospital. We played silly games, drank wine and spiked punch, and stuffed ourselves with a variety of appetizers and cupcakes, artfully displayed in the shape of a wedding dress.

  Lucas had promised to tell Chantelle after the party where Harper and I were headed and that I would be living with Lucas for the foreseeable future. My sister insisted she didn’t want anything to interfere with Chantelle and Lucas’s wedding plans. The date had been set and the arrangements made. No matter what the future held for her, she wanted them to go through with the wedding whether she was there as a bridesmaid or not. I felt she was being a pessimist again but didn’t want to waste her energy or mine arguing.

  Once we left the party, Lucas drove us to the hospital. He dropped us off at the front door while he went to park the car.

  Harper and I stood frozen in the hospital foyer, unable to move.

  My sister was the one who propelled me forward. “Let’s do this,” she said.

  I nodded and followed her to the reception desk.

  We were prepared and ready for battle.

  CHAPTER 21

  Sean

  The heat of the Philippines was the most intense I’d ever endured. The assignment was multifaceted. Our mission was to look first at the offshore fisheries and then later, if time allowed, the mangrove forest, seeking to document the damage done by climate change. I was working with an entire team of scientists and naturalists.

  The days were long, and my thoughts continually drifted to Willa and Oceanside. Long before I boarded the plane that would take me halfway across the world, I knew I would miss her, but I had no clue how strong those feelings would be.

  The frustrating part was my inability to connect with her. My guess was that she was working too hard, not caring for herself, because she felt it was her duty to take care of everyone else first. With her brother’s wedding coming in a few months, I could imagine she was doing all she could to make the wedding cake of the century. Curious, I wondered which of the four flavors the couple had chosen. I was hoping for coconut.

  Exhausted after a morning-long session of photographs, I returned to our campsite to download the photos I’d gotten earlier. I’d promised Willa I’d be safe and thanked God she couldn’t see some of the crazy chances I took to get the perfect shot.

  This was an important assignment, my most prestigious to date. In the oppressive heat of the afternoon beating down on me, I faced the naked truth. I was scared to death of failing. From the moment I joined the rest of the team, I’d been driven by the fear of failure. I was willing to do most anything to get the picture, and that included putting myself at risk. Danger can be an aphrodisiac for some. Not me. All I could think about was how furious Willa would be if I returned home injured or sick again. The thought made me smile. How important Willa’s opinion had become to me.

  Sweat rolled down my back as I bent over my computer, downloading hundreds of photographs. Working in the middle of the day was nearly impossible. The light was best in the early morning and late afternoon. Dawn and dusk. My afternoons were spent downloading and editing, napping when I could, writing, trying to keep cool, and missing Willa. Missing home.

  Doug, the leader of our team, returned to our camp, mumbling under his breath about the necessity of a trip into the nearest town. More of a village with dirt streets and a few minor businesses. I barely remembered seeing it when we first arrived. Whatever it was he needed went straight over my head. All I heard was what mattered to me. Small as this village was, there might be an opportunity to find an Internet café. Even the smallest of towns would sometimes boast of one. I was desperate to connect with Willa and check in with my family, too.

  When my mother learned I was taking another assignment on a remote island in the Philippines, she nearly blew a gasket. She’s always been a worrier, and my leaving again so soon after suffering with typhoid sent her on a rampage. I was surprised she didn’t connect with Willa and demand that the two of them do whatever they could to stop me from leaving. For all I knew, Mom might have done exactly that.

  Three of the five-man team opted to take the hour-long ride into town. The road, such as it was, was unpaved and filled with potholes big enough to swim in. Thankfully, Doug was an experienced driver and managed to avoid the hazards.

  At one point we got behind a farmer herding ten head of cattle down a narrow section of road. We were forced to follow him until the path widened enough for us to get past.

  While Doug and Larry went about their business, I found a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with Internet access, if you could call a few mismatched tables and chairs on a dirt floor a restaurant. Knowing it would be appreciated if I made a purchase, I or
dered a coffee, found a seat, and opened my computer. In my eagerness, my hand trembled. Two weeks, fourteen mere days, out of communication with Willa and I shook like an addict, needing a fix.

  Once I was able to log in, I scanned emails until I saw Willa’s name. The first message was brief. After a few words asking about my welfare and wishing me success, she casually mentioned Harper was in the hospital. All Willa had mentioned earlier was that her sister was undergoing a few tests. Whatever the results were couldn’t have been good. I frowned as I scanned her email a second time, hoping to read between the lines. I knew Willa worried incessantly about Harper’s health. Seeing that she didn’t elaborate led me to believe there was more to this than what she was saying.

  Perhaps it was the flu? Or a cold? But those rarely led to hospital stays unless they had developed into something far more serious. I pondered her brief message again, remembering Harper’s troubles in making the climb she’d prepared for all summer.

  In the space of a single heartbeat it came to me. Could it be that Willa was telling me Harper’s cancer had returned? I didn’t want to leap to conclusions, but my mind refused to let go of the possibility. I felt my chest tighten, and for the next moment it seemed as if my heart stopped. The first bout had nearly claimed Harper’s life. She’d recovered, but I didn’t think Willa ever had. She’d lived in fear of her sister’s future.

  After a few deep breaths, I debated how best to respond as I scanned down to her most recent email. I hurriedly read her message. Again, it was short, as if she was afraid of saying too much. She told me she missed me and how she longed for me to hurry home. I felt the angst in those two lines, the fear and tension. Her next words confirmed my worst suspicions.

  I’m staying with Lucas in Seattle while Harper is in the hospital. Please, my love, hurry home.

  For the life of me I didn’t know how I was going to tell her that it didn’t look like we were going to be able to wrap up this assignment in the time allotted. Already Doug was talking about a two-week extension. From six weeks to eight. Maybe longer.

  The one bright spot in her entire email was that she called me “my love.”

  I answered her, typing as fast as my fingers could manage, before Doug and Larry returned and I would be forced to leave. I let her know how sorry I was to hear about Harper and how desperately I wished I was there with her. I spoke of the job and what we were doing, the progress we’d made, and how much there was yet to be done.

  Looking to take her mind off Harper and her current situation, I described the local people we’d met and worked with, their beauty and willingness to do whatever we asked, their generosity of spirit. I mentioned some of what I’d learned about the culture and how I spent my days and nights.

  Hoping a long email from me would help ease her mind, I outlined what a typical day was like for me and the rest of the crew. I mentioned my fears and the importance of this assignment to my career and how most days I felt like I had failed until I was able to review the shots I’d taken. At night, when sleep came, I generally felt like I had the best job in the world. That said, it didn’t nearly compensate for how desperately I missed her, how anxious I was to get home. I assured her I would do anything in my power to get back to Seattle as quickly as I could manage.

  I pushed send and watched the message disappear. If only I could hear her voice. If only…

  Checking my watch, I saw that it was a little after five in the afternoon. Seattle time was around two in the morning. I hated to wake Willa and toyed with letting her sleep, but what if this was the only chance I had to connect with her the entire trip?

  Taking the chance, I logged my phone on to Wi-Fi and called her. It rang four times and I was afraid it would go to voicemail before I heard her groggy voice.

  “Hello?” It was more question than greeting and laced with concern.

  “Willa, it’s me.”

  “Sean. Oh Sean.” After saying my name, she immediately burst into tears.

  “Baby, baby, what is it?” The pain in her voice broke my heart.

  It took several moments for her to control the hiccupping sobs enough to speak. “Did you get my email?”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m calling. I’m in this village and only have a few minutes. Tell me. What’s going on? Why is Harper in the hospital? What were the test results?” I pounded her with questions, not giving her a chance to answer one before I asked another.

  “Her earlier blood work was good and we assumed everything was great. It isn’t. She got another rash and then she complained about chest pain. When we went to see Dr. Annie, we all assumed it was walking pneumonia. After a round of X-rays and more tests at the hospital we learned there’s a cancerous tumor on her lung.”

  She drew in a deep breath before she continued.

  “It’s bad, Sean. Worse than before, and I didn’t think that was possible. On a positive note, John is working closely with her oncologist. Harper’s in Seattle for treatment now…the chemotherapy is supposed to be one of the best available. I was with her today when it was administered, and the nurse checked the dose twice. She said she’d never seen this dose before and wanted to be sure she was following the doctor’s instructions.”

  “Oh Willa. I am so sorry. How’s Harper holding up?”

  “She’s doing great. She never complains. The nurses and doctors are wonderful. They all love her. Everyone does. John is with her as much as his schedule allows. He’s been wonderful.”

  “What happens after the chemotherapy?”

  “This is only the first session. After this week she’ll stay with me at Lucas’s apartment until her white cells are built up enough for her to proceed with the second round of chemo.” She hesitated before she could continue. “It’s killing her, Sean, killing her. She’s desperately ill, worse than before…I don’t know how she does this day after day. It’s more than I can bear, seeing her like this.”

  “What can I do?” I asked, desperately wanting to be there for Willa and her family.

  “Come home when you can. That’s the best thing you can do.”

  I could feel how badly she needed me at her side. Willa was only so strong, and she needed me to lean on, to comfort and support her. I hated that it wasn’t possible, and coward that I was, I didn’t mention the extension, and left her to read it in the email I’d sent earlier.

  I knew it wasn’t only Harper who required Willa’s support. “How’s your father dealing with the news?”

  “Dad is doing better than ever…which is a surprise. When I told him that Harper’s cancer was back, he said he’d do everything he could to be there for all of us, and he has. He calls every day for an update and has been talking to Pastor McDonald, praying for us all. Snowball is with him and seems to have adjusted to her new home.”

  That was good news. “And you?”

  She paused and sniffled. “Oh Sean, I’m so afraid. Harper has had a horrible reaction to the chemotherapy. She’s constantly sick and is already losing her beautiful hair. She barely eats and is losing a pound a day if not more. She looks…” She stopped and sobbed into the phone before she was able to continue. “She looks like death.”

  “Oh baby, I wish I was there with you.”

  “Lucas and Chantelle are thinking of moving up their wedding date. It means making a big adjustment on their part. We talked about it this evening, and Chantelle is going to talk to the hotel about the possibility. If it can be arranged, we’ll do it in the time between the two treatments.”

  I closed my eyes, hating like the devil to tell her, but I refused to give her false hope. “I’ll miss the wedding.”

  Silence.

  “Our job is taking longer than anyone anticipated,” I admitted, my words heavy with reluctance. “If I could, I’d fly home tomorrow. But there’s only one vehicle, and the most common form of transportation here is oxcart. I don’t
have a choice but to stay with the team and see this through.”

  “I know.” Resignation coated her words. “I know.”

  “As soon as I can, I’ll get the first flight out, I promise.”

  She seemed to be drawing on a source of inner strength, because when she next spoke her voice was calm and controlled. I couldn’t sense any anger from her. Perhaps a little disappointment, if that.

  “I understand. This is important work and you’re needed there.”

  I would forever love her for her understanding. Guilt at letting her down was eating at me like piranhas in a feeding frenzy. If only I could be in two places at once.

  “Lucas and Chantelle have been wonderful. I spend my days with Harper and then Chantelle relieves me after work so I can get something to eat. Lucas comes and sits with us in the evenings until Harper can rest.”

  “What about Bean There?”

  “Shirley, God bless her, is filling in, and Leesa and a couple of Harper’s other friends are taking the morning shift. All have some bistro experience from their college days, so I don’t worry as much as I would otherwise.

  “Originally, I intended to drive back to Oceanside once a week, but I can see that will be impossible. At least not now. Maybe after this round of chemo I’ll be able to manage it.”

  I covered my forehead with my free hand, feeling wretched to be away when Willa and her family needed me.

  “Sean?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I need to tell you…something.” Her voice trembled and lowered to a mere whisper. She paused, as if she found it difficult to get the words out.

  “What is it, love?” I asked, sensing that whatever she was about to say was important, more important than anything else she’d said to this point.