by Susan Wiggs
She wondered if the brother was anything like him. She wondered if the brother was available.
“How did your talk with her go?” she asked.
“I had to save your ass from being fired.”
Faith was not surprised. “I figured she’d be mad.”
“Not to worry. You’re not going anywhere. It was a difficult moment in a difficult conversation.”
She sensed there was a lot more he wasn’t telling her, and that difficult was probably an understatement. “And?”
He added cream to his coffee. “And we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I suppose I expected more resistance from you.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean... Never mind. You dropped everything and came up here, and no matter what your mother says, she’s grateful. What can I do to help?”
“We’re going to her shrink. The two of us, together. I’m sure it’s gonna be a barrel of laughs.”
“Oh, boy,” she said, putting her cup in the sink. “I better get ready for the day.”
He stood aside, making a formal gesture at the door. “Be my guest.”
As she passed by him, he said, “You told me it’s easier to speak the truth than to keep a secret.”
“I said that? I don’t recall saying that. But generally speaking, it’s probably the case.”
“Right. Generally speaking. Just so you know, even though I’m here, this arrangement doesn’t thrill me. But—”
“This is not about you.” She bristled. Was he backpedaling already? “It’s about your mother, who is hurting and afraid and needs your support. So if you have to be pissed at me for telling you to step in, go right ahead. However—”
“Thank you,” he said.
“What?”
He gave her that funny, crooked smile again. “That’s all I was going to say, Faith, if you’d let me get a word in edgewise. Thank you.”
* * *
At the rehab facility, Mason stood on the sidelines with Faith, watching his mother work through her routine with her trainer. The place resembled a very specialized gym, with an array of equipment, mats, boards, weights and machines. Therapists were working with people of all levels of ability, from a ninety-year-old with a broken hip to a kid whose shaved and scarred head indicated a brain injury. This was a far cry from the gym he belonged to in Manhattan, where his mother had once dominated her CrossFit class.
Yet the expression on her face was familiar to him. “That’s the mom I know,” he said, noting the intensity in her eyes. “That focus and determination.”
“Right,” said Alice with a taut smile. “That’s me. Grim determination.”
To his amazement, she was working out on a stationary bicycle. Like a treadmill, it was powered by electricity, but the movement of the pedals would improve her muscle tone and cardiac function.
“Your progress has been remarkable,” said Tim, the rehab trainer. “The fact that you’re a gifted athlete is quite an advantage. All the qualities you drew on in your athletic training are still the keys to success—determination, focus, discipline, strength and consistency.”
“Yay, me,” she said.
“We’re still working on the attitude.” He grinned at Mason and Faith. “When we first started working together, this lady was about as friendly as a honey badger. Now I’m her favorite, right, Alice?”
“You’ve worn away my defenses,” she said. “Now I’m Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.”
“Not quite, but you should be proud of all your hard work,” he said. “I’ve seen you figure out ways to use your arms even with your limited functionality. A few months ago, you had almost nothing on either side.” Tim covered her hand on the adaptive handlebar. “Now you’ve figured out how to straighten your wrist and sometimes manipulate the fingers.”
“How useful. All that does is make my hand open involuntarily.”
“Keep working on your hand mobility, Alice. It takes a lot of hard work to make a miracle happen. I wouldn’t be surprised if you found a way to make your fingers move.”
“Great. Pretty soon I’ll be able to flip you off.”
“I live for the day.” Taking care to protect her collarbone, he transferred her from the bike to her chair.
Mason studied a clear plastic model that showed the nervous system, the muscular and skeletal systems. The human body seemed intimidatingly complex to him. Faith stepped up beside him. “I’ve always thought it was so beautifully simple,” she said.
He felt a flash of humor. “I was just thinking the opposite. I’m bewildered. It’s like looking at electrical lines in Thailand.”
“I feel that way about finance, and that’s your specialty,” she said. “I suppose we all have our areas of expertise.”
“I just wish the experts could find a way to repair a spinal cord.” He stared at the illustration of the C7 vertebra. When he thought about his mother’s injury, it didn’t look beautiful or simple at all. She had lost the use of all the nerves that connected below the injury.
“There are two parts to the nervous system,” Faith said. “Central and peripheral. I’ve been reading about electrical stimulation treatments, but her neurologist didn’t think she was a candidate.”
“I keep wondering if we’ve really left no stone unturned in my mom’s case. Did we find every expert, pursue every treatment?”
“Things change every day in this field,” Faith pointed out. “What about your... Katia? The girl you knew in Paris.”
He felt a twist in his gut. “What?”
“She’s a physician now, right? A trauma surgeon. You said you kept in touch.”
Then he got it. “Oh, you mean to ask her about my mom. Good idea. I’ll check with her today.”
“By keeping her strength up, Alice will be ready for anything. And I guess by now you’ve seen how her attitude plays a part.”
“Oh, yeah. The trainer’s good with her. So are you, Faith. I have to admit, when you first started with her, I thought you were pretty hard on her.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“I overheard the two of you butting heads. Then I realized why.” He studied the model again, with its network of nerves. “Have you always been interested in neurology? Or anatomy in general?”
“I’m interested in anything that might affect my client,” she said. “But yes, I love neurology and anatomy and all things medical. Which means I’m in the right profession. When I was young, I dreamed about becoming a doctor.”
“You should have gone for it,” he said. “I bet you’d make a good one.”
Her smile turned wistful as she traced her finger along the model’s arm nerves. “Life has a way of creating detours around the best-laid plans.”
He found himself wondering about the path her life had taken. A hard road, based on what he knew. Becoming a mother and then a widow before the age of thirty, shouldering mountains of medical debt, dealing with Ruby’s condition. Yet Faith faced every day with a positive attitude.
As the session was winding down, she grabbed Mason’s arm. “Hey,” she said. “Check it out.”
Just her hand on his arm made every cell in his body wake up. “What’s that?”
She didn’t seem to notice her effect on him. “That guy over there, the one who’s just finishing with the walking bars.”
Mason saw a tall, muscular man gripping a set of parallel bars. One of his bare legs was terrifically scarred, and there was another long scar on his upper arm.
“Friend of yours?”
“He’s the guy. The motorcycle accident guy.”
Mason still got chills when he remembered that day. “You sure?”
“Yes,” said his mother, gliding past in h
er chair. “Tim just told me. We should go and say hello.” Without hesitation, she approached the struggling man. “I’m Alice Bellamy,” she said. “This is my son Mason and Faith McCallum.”
He paused between parallel bars. “Rick Sanders,” he said.
“You crashed your motorcycle in front of my house,” said Alice.
The guy looked sheepish. “Yeah? Not my best day.”
“I’m sorry it happened,” she said.
“That makes two of us.”
“Faith was the first one to help you after your crash.”
Rick Sanders turned to her, his eyes wide. “Oh, man. Really? Thank you.”
He reached out to shake her hand, but Faith stepped forward and folded him into a hug, then stepped back. Mason loved how natural she was with people, even strangers. “I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time.”
“You saved my life. I always meant to find out who you were, but...” He gestured down at himself. “It’s been a long recovery.”
“Are you going to be all right?” asked Mason’s mom.
“If I have anything to say about it, yeah. I’m told it’s going to be a long road, though.” He regarded her with real warmth and interest. “So, do you come here often?”
To Mason’s astonishment, his mother blushed. At least, he thought it was a blush; her cheeks turned pink, and although she didn’t smile, her eyes seemed lighter. “I’m a regular,” she said.
Faith motioned Mason to the lobby. “We can wait out here until she’s done.”
Mason’s surprise must have shown, because she gave a little teasing laugh.
“What?” he said. “What’s funny?”
“The expression on your face.”
“Oh, yeah. Well. So was that flirting? Was she flirting with that guy?”
“You tell me.”
The blush on his mother’s face. The sparkling eyes. “It’s not every day I see my mom flirting with some guy.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Anything that makes her want to live her life is cool with me.”
Faith’s eyes softened. “Well said.”
18
“The end of the school year means the beginning of awesome,” said Cara’s friend Bree. They were at the Sky River Bakery, just finishing up their shift. Jenny McKnight, the owner, had given Cara morning shifts for the summer, which worked out great, because it meant she was done by noon and had the whole day ahead of her. The whole day for hanging out, dreaming, reading books, messing around in the lake...and wondering what the heck she was going to do with herself after senior year. Her school counselor had spent all of five minutes telling her she had the potential to get into any college she wanted, but he stopped short of explaining how she might actually make that happen.
Just for today, she wasn’t going to worry about the future. Because back at Downton Abbey, something like a miracle had occurred. Old lady Bellamy had agreed that Cara could have a friend over and they would all go swimming. It was the hottest day of the year so far, the thermometer aiming toward ninety, so the lake was the only place to be.
Cara didn’t have all that many friends. She wasn’t a jock or a gleek or an A-lister. Mostly, she kept her head down and flew under the radar. Bree was the closest thing Cara had to a best friend. They worked together at the bakery. They were both training this summer for a triathlon, so they were pretty pumped about spending an afternoon in the water.
They drove together in Bree’s car, a secondhand Subaru. Cara watched enviously as her friend drove along the lakeshore road. She was still saving up for driver’s ed.
“So is old Mrs. Bellamy, like, superweird?” asked Bree. “I mean, I figure I’d be weird if I was stuck in a wheelchair.”
“Well, she’s a little weird, but it doesn’t have anything to do with her being in a wheelchair. She can be cranky a lot of the time, and sometimes funny as hell. I didn’t like her when we first moved in, but I do now. She’s really smart, likes talking about books and movies, and she has amazing taste in music. She let me download a bunch of David Bowie songs from her computer.”
“That’s cool.”
“She’s completed several triathlons—before her accident, obviously.”
“Wow. Think she’d give us some training advice?”
“Sure. Let’s ask her.”
Following Cara’s directions, Bree turned down the tree-lined driveway to the grand entrance gate. “Are you kidding me?” Bree said, getting out of the car. “Look at this place.”
“I told you it was like being on Masterpiece Theatre.” She gestured at the house and grounds. The heat of the day kicked into high gear. The air felt like an oven, tingling across her skin.
They went into the pool house to change. Cara had to stick with last year’s swimsuit, but it still looked okay, she supposed. It was a dark purple bikini with a tie-dye pattern, and even though it came from the discount store, it didn’t look that way. Still, she felt a twinge of envy when her friend put on a bright new bikini, navy-and-white-striped, fresh for this season.
Whatever.
Her mom and Alice were already outside, making their way along the path down to the lake. Ruby tagged along behind, looking like a condemned prisoner on her way to the gallows. She and Alice had made a deal that they would both go swimming. It would be a first for Ruby. Normally, she squealed and ran away the moment she got in up to her knees.
Such a timid little thing. Sometimes in her darkest moments, Cara wondered if Ruby might one day get as sick as Dad. She wished her little sister had known their father the way Cara had. Years ago, he had been active, brave, always laughing. But the dad Ruby had known was a sick man, struggling through each day. Damn diabetes.
Cara had this crazy idea of going to medical school and becoming a doctor and helping people so they didn’t have to suffer like Dad and Ruby. Maybe she’d even go into pathology and find a cure for diabetes. But medical school—so out of reach.
“Hello? Earth to Cara.” Bree nudged her in the ribs. “How about you introduce me.”
Cara shook herself back into the moment. “Sure,” she said, and made the introductions.
“Thanks for letting us come swimming,” Cara said to Alice. “It’s the perfect thing for a day like today.”
“I imagine it would be,” said Alice. “There’s nothing like plunging into a cold lake on a hot day.”
“Alice used to do competition cliff diving,” Cara told her friend.
“I’ll stick with jumping off the end of the dock,” said Bree.
“Mom and I fixed a picnic,” Ruby announced, her eyes lighting up. “Egg salad sandwiches, chips, pickles and iced tea.”
“That sounds amazing,” said Bree. “We brought some goodies from the bakery to pig out on. Including those sugar-free spice cookies you like.”
Ruby beamed at her. “Thank you.”
There was a shady picnic area by the dock with a table and lawn chairs arranged around a stone-built fire pit. Music streamed from a radio set to oldies from the ’80s, and they slathered themselves with sunscreen and consumed the feast, laughing and talking. It was the start of a perfect day at the lake. Lena brought a bowl of cherries and stone fruit, and the sweet juice ran down Cara’s chin as she gorged herself on peaches. She didn’t worry about the mess; it would all wash off in the water.
Even Alice was in a pretty good mood, talking about how she used to train for diving on a trampoline, and travel to exotic places in the tropics to compete. It was a bummer that she couldn’t do it anymore, but she seemed to like talking about it.
“Are you going in today?” Cara asked her.
“That’s my plan,” Alice said. “Ruby and I are both going swimming today.”
“Maybe,” said Ruby.
“There’
s no maybe,” Alice said with her dragon lady stare. “We’re doing it.”
Ruby’s eyes widened, but she chewed her lip and didn’t protest.
“Well, I’m going in right now.” Cara stood up and kicked off her flip-flops. Then, before she could let herself think about how cold the water was going to feel, she made a run for the dock and jumped off the end. Airborne for a split second, she felt utterly weightless. Then she hit the water with an enormous splash. The shock of cold engulfed her, sluicing over her scalp and freezing every square inch of her skin. It felt glorious. This day was glorious.
She surfaced in time to see Bree join in, squealing from the cold when she broke the surface. It took only a few minutes to get used to the water. Cara swam in circles with strong freestyle strokes. Dad had been a great swim coach before he became too sick to do anything. She still remembered his strong arms holding her, and the laughter in his voice as they played in the water.
Sometimes the memories were like sharp knives being stabbed into her heart. When she thought about everything he was missing—this perfect summer day, how cute and funny Ruby was, how Cara wanted to be a doctor, how good the lake water felt—she wanted to sink to the bottom and find him.
She dived down as deep as she could, exhaling all of her air, imagining he was here with her somewhere, in a secret underwater place where the two of them could meet in private.
Miss you, Dad.
When she was nearly bursting with the need for air, she scissored her legs and shot toward the sunlight. She looked toward the dock just in time to see Mom dive in. It was a pretty decent dive. Cara liked seeing her mom having a little fun for a change. Usually all she did was work and worry. She surfaced, laughing, and they paddled around together, looking up at the summer sky and enjoying the day.
“So how’s it going to work?” asked Cara, treading water near her mom. “You know, getting Alice into the water.”
“Mason and Donno are coming in a few minutes. They’ll use the ramp, and then we’ll see.”
“And Ruby?”
“She claims she’s going to do it. Think she will?”