by Sandy James
At long last, the nightmare had ended.
She had big plans for Saturday. While Ben and Robert loaded the rental truck with stuff from the town house and then took a good deal of it to the storage unit Ben had rented, she and Amber were going to wait for the furniture company to deliver Amber’s new bedroom set and mattress. The new furniture was oak, the stain light enough to be feminine without being prissy. The set would look fantastic in the guest bedroom, Amber’s room now.
The walk-in closet stood empty, ready for Amber’s clothes. Mallory had purged as much junk as she could from all the closets as each bedroom received a fresh coat of paint and new carpet. Because she’d always held out the hope Ben might want to share her house, she’d made a point of keeping the guest closet empty and had limited her stuff to one side of the master closet.
A bit odd that she was so excited about a guy moving in rather than marrying her. Then again after Jay, she wasn’t sure she’d ever find the courage to take that plunge again. Better to keep it simple. Besides, she was confident in Ben returning her affection. Hadn’t he proven he was stalwart in the way he’d cared for her through the skin stretching and the reconstruction?
Love didn’t need a license and a ring.
Rinsing her hair, she enjoyed the feel of the water beating against her skin. She squirted her scented liquid soap onto her hand and washed her body. It was still a habit to check her right breast, a good habit according to her oncologist. No lumps. No bumps. She ran her soapy fingers over the left breast, loving how her chest once again felt symmetrical. With a contented smile, Mallory smoothed her hands over her tummy.
The lump was on the left side, right below her navel.
It wasn’t until she got light-headed that she realized she’d been holding her breath. Then she started panting, unable to draw enough air into her lungs. Her heart beat hard enough she could hear the echo whooshing in her ears.
A mistake. It’s just a mistake.
The truth was there beneath her fingertips.
She quickly rinsed the soap from her body, stepped out of the shower, and dried herself. Then she faced the foggy mirror. She swiped it with the towel to give herself a better look. Heart pounding, she ran her trembling hand over her lower abdomen. First right. Next left.
Not only could she feel the large lump, she could see the imperfection in her mirrored reflection.
The anger hit her square in the chest with the force of a shotgun blast. Mallory shouted a guttural noise, a mixture of pain and rage, and picked up the glass resting by the sink. With a scream full of agony, she hurled it at the mirror, making it shatter and rain shards of silver on the countertop and into the sinks.
* * *
The hospital. The last place in the world Mallory wanted to be. The series of buildings was far too familiar, and she took a few moments to summon up her courage before she could even consider going inside.
Where was Ben? She needed him with her, helping her through this, whispering words of comfort and lying to her that everything was going to be all right. She checked her cell phone yet again.
No calls. No texts.
Maybe he was someplace with no cell phone reception.
Maybe his battery had run out.
Maybe he’d accidentally turned off his ringer.
I should’ve waited. Telling him face-to-face would have been kinder, but she’d been drowning in panic. All she could do was reach out to the man she loved—her life preserver in the storm. So she’d sent him a blunt text.
Found a new lump. Need you.
After phoning her oncologist’s service, she’d waited. The doctor had called back almost immediately, sounding sleepy. She’d apologized for waking him so early, but he’d patiently listened to her near-hysterical words and ordered her to drive straight to St. Ignatius Hospital. He was going to make sure she got right in for a CAT scan even if he had to call in every favor owed him.
Mallory called the substitute teacher service, slipped on some clothes, texted Ben to tell him where to meet her, and then drove like a maniac across town. Now that she was in the parking area, she waited, hoping he’d respond to her pleas to meet her in the outpatient lot and go with her to radiology.
She wanted him to kiss her. To stroke her hair. To hold her hand.
To tell her the cancer hadn’t returned to ravage her body and maybe claim her life this time.
I won’t cry. I won’t cry.
Damn it, I won’t cry.
There was nothing to cry about. Not yet. Not until the results of the CAT scan were in. Then she could weep enough to fill a river with her tears.
There were millions of explanations for lumps and bumps on the body. Well, maybe not millions. Thousands. Or at least hundreds. Anything except…
She almost called Juliana to ask her to list a few simply to ease her mind. But she wouldn’t call any of the Ladies. Mallory had always leaned on them. Not this time.
This time she needed Ben. She needed his strength, his support, and his warmth to help her through.
Maybe he was lost in another of the hospital’s parking lots.
Maybe he was tied up in traffic.
Maybe Amber woke up sick and he was too busy helping her to check his phone.
The sickening knot in the pit of her stomach grew with each excuse she imagined for why Ben ignored her repeated pleas. Didn’t he know how much she needed him? Casting aside her pride, she abandoned texting and called him.
“Please, God. Please.”
Although she had no idea if she was praying for Ben to answer or for the lump in her lower abdomen to miraculously disappear, she still sent her entreaty to God.
Please.
No answer.
Maybe Ben… was just like Jay.
She took deep breaths, trying to remind herself Ben had been nothing but considerate.
But so had Jay until things turned rough. Ben had yet to be tested. Could he really be like Jay? Would he leave her when the going got tough?
If this was a test, he was failing.
With an angry growl, Mallory powered down her phone and shoved it in her purse. She climbed out of the SUV and marched into St. Ignatius Hospital.
Alone.
* * *
Ben saw Mallory’s empty SUV and pulled his truck up only a couple parking spots away. He jammed the gearshift into park but didn’t turn off the engine. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and his hands ached.
Time had little meaning, its passage marked only by the pain flowing through his heart and his mind. His phone rested next to him on the bench seat. When Mallory’s ringtone played, he’d stared at her smiling face on the screen, unable to answer after the blood-chilling texts she’d sent. Al Green had warbled “Let’s Stay Together”—the first song they’d danced to—and the irony of the words filled Ben’s mind.
Lovin’ you whether times are good or bad, happy or sad.
He should’ve taken the call. He just couldn’t, not until he could wrap his mind around what was happening. Once he’d realized this wasn’t some horrifying dream, he’d raced to St. Ignatius, hoping he’d get there before Mallory went inside. But he was too late, had wasted too much time, and he couldn’t seem to force himself to get out of his truck.
She’d become more to him than he’d ever imagined. She’d banished the bad memories of his past. She’d filled the hole in his heart he hadn’t even known was there. She’d become a beacon of light in a dark world.
Now cancer would extinguish that light.
A tear hit his lap, soaking into the denim. Afraid to give in to his desire to weep—to scream at the unfairness of someone like Mallory being sick when there were so many horrible people in the world who deserved to suffer—Ben banged his head against the steering wheel. Hard.
“It’s not fucking fair.” First he whispered it. Next he shouted it.
He glanced at the hospital. She was inside, probably dressed in a baby-blue gown, being led to a col
d room with a loud, intimidating machine to have her body scanned. He should be sitting next to her, holding her hand before the attendant led her away. Then he should be praying while he waited in an uncomfortable waiting room full of two-year-old magazines.
But he couldn’t make himself get out of his truck. As long as he sat by himself, he didn’t have to face this disaster. He didn’t have to find the right thing to say, as if there even were a right thing to say.
How could he ever come up with a way to break the news to his daughter?
Amber. Sweet Jesus, he’d promised her Mallory would be all right. How in the hell could he possibly look his daughter in the eye and tell her Mallory’s cancer had most likely returned?
No more drama. He’d promised his daughter that there’d be no more drama.
“Damn it!”
Instead of keeping his word, he’d plunged Amber right into the deep end. Now she might have to face death up close and personal. He’d ruined her life by letting her bond with a woman who might be dying.
After all of Theresa’s head games, Amber had recovered. Mallory had helped make that recovery complete.
Mallory’s death would destroy Amber as much as it would destroy him. She’d already lost one mother. No way could she stand to lose another.
Ben needed to make this better for both of his girls, but he had no idea how, or even if he could.
One step at a time. Isn’t that what people told him when Hurricane Theresa hit? Take on what he could control and leave the rest to God.
Are you there, God? I sure hope so, ’cause we need you. Bad.
Mallory would be in the CAT scanner by now. Then she’d head home to wait for the results. Since he wouldn’t be able to help her now, he decided to go to the person he could help.
Amber.
He tapped out a quick text message that Mallory probably wouldn’t receive until she was done, then he backed out of the parking spot.
Can’t get to you right now. Will be at your place soon as I can.
Driving away from St. Ignatius, Ben didn’t even glance in the rearview mirror. Mallory was going to be okay. The lump was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
There simply was no other way this could end.
* * *
Mallory froze when the double doors swished closed behind her. A smile bloomed as she glanced to the parking lot.
Ben was here. His truck sat close to her SUV. Everything would be all right now.
The CAT scan had been pushed back an hour because of a couple of emergencies. Mallory had been heading out to grab some coffee and a donut since she’d missed breakfast. Experience taught her the hospital cafeteria’s coffee was nothing but sludge, so she’d opted for the Dunkin’ Donuts just up the street. She’d even planned to check her phone one last time, knowing Ben would’ve had time to answer her text by now.
She’d been foolish to get so angry at him, and she blamed the panic that had engulfed her when she found the lump. While she was still terrified, she could breathe and think a little clearer now.
Ben wasn’t Jay. He wouldn’t abandon her when she needed him.
With a smile, she headed toward his truck. If she could catch him, they could go to the coffee shop together. As she walked, she fished around in her purse, searching for her phone. When she glanced up again, she ground to a halt.
Ben had backed out of the parking spot. Maybe he’d seen her and was heading over to pick her up.
She was wrong. So very wrong.
Her phone vibrated in her purse, signaling a text as he sped away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mallory wouldn’t answer his texts.
Trying to swallow his panic, Ben tried one more time. All the while he kept coming up with reasons why she wouldn’t reply.
Maybe the CAT scan was just getting started because she’d had to wait. Or maybe she was driving and wouldn’t read a text. Something was up, but he would figure it all out when he got to her house. He sent a last text while he waited for Amber to come from class and meet him in the main office of her school.
Talking to Amber. Then will come to house.
When he glanced up, Amber was coming through the office door. “Dad? What’s wrong?”
He tossed her a fake smile. “Forgot you have to get your braces adjusted today.”
“I don’t have an appointment.”
“Yes,” he insisted, inclining his head at the secretary, who gave them the stink eye. “You do.”
“Um… okay.”
“Already signed you out.” Ben grabbed her elbow and hurried her out of the office. He was near to desperate to find out for sure if his daughter could handle what they were about to throw at her.
“What’s wrong?” She hit him with the question before they got to the truck.
“We need to talk, ladybug.” He popped the locks and crawled into the driver’s seat while Amber entered from the other side. Since there was no easy way to say it, Ben spilled the news. “Mallory found another lump.”
“In her breast?”
“I assume.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, he checked her text again. “Doesn’t say, but with her history…”
“She’s got cancer again.” Amber’s face blanched and her hands trembled. Her wide eyes filled with tears.
Ben tugged her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “We don’t know that.”
“What else could a lump in her breast be?” Although she wasn’t crying, her voice choked with emotion.
His own thoughts traveled the same path, but he needed to hold out hope. “A lump could mean lots of things. Might be nothing. We don’t know for sure yet. She’s getting a CAT scan right now.”
Amber pushed away from him. “Then why aren’t you with her?”
“Because I needed to talk to you first. I was worried how you’d react.”
“Why?”
“I know how close you and Mallory are…” And I’m afraid this news will destroy you.
After wiping her sleeve over her eyes, she glared at him. “Can we go to her now?”
“I think it’d be better if we kept things as normal as possible. At least for now.” He looked her over unsure of whether she was hiding her reaction or was simply in shock.
His own shock was wearing off, leaving him with a mound of worries and feeling guilty he hadn’t stayed at the hospital. The fact Amber was handling this so well only added fuel to the guilt. He should’ve stayed with Mallory.
This was tearing him in two. Driving away from the hospital had been a knee-jerk reaction, but one born of years of protecting Amber, of always putting his daughter first. Somewhere he’d missed that she’d developed into a young woman who was handling the news with much more maturity than he was.
You screwed the pooch on this one, Ben, old boy.
“What do you want to do, Amber?”
“Could we go buy Mallory some flowers?”
“How about you go with me to the florist, we pick out some roses, then I bring you back to school? You can see Mallory after.”
She considered a moment before answering with a brusque nod. “I’ll take the bus home. You can text me to let me know what’s happening. Okay, Dad?”
Ben gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Sounds like a good plan.”
* * *
With his heart and flowers in his hand, Ben punched in the code to Mallory’s garage door. She had to be home by now, and he desperately needed to hold her.
When the door didn’t budge, he tried again. As flustered as he felt and with the river of anxiety racing through him, he’d obviously put in the wrong code. A second attempt was no more successful than the first.
Was the power out?
“Changed the code.”
Juliana’s voice drew Ben around to the front porch where she stood, arms folded sternly over her chest.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I changed the code.” She rubbed her upper arms against the chill. “You need to go.” Her
voice bore the same harsh tone as any drill sergeant. “Now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You abandoned her.”
His heart plummeted to the ground. “I what?”
“Cut the bullshit.” Juliana scoffed. Her features were pinched and angry.
He held up the roses, hoping they’d sway her. Sure he’d made a mistake. But he hadn’t fucked up so badly that Mallory would lock him out. “I came to be with Mallory.”
Juliana’s snort came out in white tendrils that curled in the cold air. “You’re too late, asshole.”
His heart seized in panic. “Did she go back to the hospital?” God, what if she was sicker than she’d let him know? “What do you mean ‘too late’?”
Before she could answer a shiver ran the length of Ben’s spine as he felt Mallory’s eyes on him. He glanced up to the master bedroom’s bay window, catching a glimpse of her before the drape fell back into place.
“Mallory!”
“Go away, Ben. She doesn’t want to see you,” Juliana scolded.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He kept his eyes on the window. “Mallory! I’m sorry! Come talk to me!”
Juliana jerked the storm door open. “You’re an asshole. You know, I thought you might be different, but you’re not. Not one fucking bit.”
“Different? What are you talking about?”
“You were supposed to be different from her ex, from my ex, from every other idiot guy. But you’re not. You’re just like all the others. When Mallory needed you, you bailed.”
“I didn’t bail! I couldn’t get to the hospital in time, so I went to tell Amber what was happening.”
“She saw you.”
Those three words bore so much weight they hardly registered. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, shithead. You were there. But you didn’t go in. You just drove off.”
Trapped in his own lie, he had nowhere to turn. “I fucked up. Is that what you want me to say? Fine. I. Fucked. Up.”
Juliana stood like a statue.
“I’m here now!” Ben spread his arms wide, smacking the roses against the railing and sending petals falling on the snow-covered grass. “I want to see Mallory. Look, I know I left. I was scared. I was terrified. I needed to see my daughter. But I’m here now.”