by Joan Wolf
"I don't like, but I suppose I must," Molly said with resignation.
The doctor examined her breast and told her everything looked fine. Then Molly went back to the reception room. Before she went to the desk, she turned to Kate, whose eyes were glued to her, and made the V for victory sign. Kate's smile could have lighted the whole of New Haven.
"I'm going to have to have chemotherapy anyway," Molly explained to Kate in the car on the way home. "Apparently a few cells might have escaped from the lump, and they don't want to take the chance of them metastasizing anywhere else."
"I'm sorry, Mom. That's not going to be fun."
"No. Well. I have to do what I have to do, I suppose."
They weren't home half an hour before the telephone rang. Kate answered and it was Alberto. "I am calling about your mother's pathology report, Kate. Was it all right?"
"Yes, it was. Hold on, and I'll put Mom on herself."
Molly came to the phone and smiled when she heard the voice on the other end. "Yes. Both the margins and the lymph nodes were clear," she said.
Kate walked out of the kitchen in order to give her mother privacy. As she went upstairs to change into her barn clothes she thought of George's comment that Molly might marry Alberto.
She wouldn't. I know Mom, and she would never leave Ben. He needs her.
She sat down to lace up her paddock boots, paused, folded her hands, and closed her eyes. Thank you, God, for Mom's good report. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. She opened her eyes, let out her breath, and went down to the barn.
* * *
Thanksgiving fell two days after Molly got the results of her pathology report. Molly had one sister, but she lived in California, and Tim Foley had been an only child, so the three Foleys had usually celebrated the holiday by themselves. This year Molly invited Daniel and Alberto to join them.
Kate spent the morning riding and doing her usual barn chores, but she cut the horses' turnout short so that she could be finished by one o'clock. When she got back to the house, the smell of roasting turkey filled the whole downstairs.
"It smells fabulous, Mom," she said as she came into the kitchen.
Cyrus went over to the stove and sniffed.
Kate laughed. "Cyrus agrees with me."
Molly smiled.
"Daniel and Ben will be here soon, I should think." Kate said. Daniel had taken Ben to New York to see the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.
The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Kate said, and went to let Alberto in. He was carrying two bottles of champagne.
"Wow," Kate said when she saw the labels.
"We have much to celebrate," Alberto said.
"Yes, we do." Kate watched Molly smile and accept the champagne to put in the refrigerator, and, for the first time, she tried to see her mother as others saw her, as Alberto must see her.
She saw a slim woman of average height, with short, silvery blond hair, and large blue-gray eyes. Her cheekbones were less sharp than Kate's, and there was great sweetness in her smile. Lines fanned out from her eyes, and there were fine lines around her mouth as well, but she did not look her fifty-five years.
Alberto said in an admonishing voice, "I hope you did not lift that turkey."
"No, Kate put it into the oven for me. I have been behaving myself, Alberto."
The two of them acted as if Alberto had every right to question Molly's actions. Kate frowned.
At this point, Ben came rushing into the kitchen. "I was on television! Did you see me?"
He was followed by Daniel, who said, "When are you going to start locking your front door, Kata?"
How did this happen? How did we become so familiar with these men?
"You're paranoid," she answered. Then, to Ben, "I'm afraid I was at the barn all during the parade."
"Did you see me, Nana?"
"I did indeed," Molly replied. "It was a lucky catch because I only had the TV on for a short time."
"I hope Connor saw me."
"How was the parade?" Kate asked her son.
"It was awesome," Ben informed her. "The balloons are huge."
"My father took Colleen and me to the parade once," Kate said reminiscently. "Remember, Mom? It was the coldest November on record, and we froze. When we got home, Dad gave us a shot of whiskey to warm up. He said it was an old Irish remedy. You were horrified."
"Maybe I should have a sip of whiskey," Ben said. "I'm cold."
"No way," Kate retorted. "I'll make you some hot cocoa."
"Hot cocoa sounds very appealing," Daniel said. "I think I'll have some, too."
Kate ended up making cocoa for everyone, and they sat around the kitchen table, talking and waiting for the turkey to be cooked.
"What a nice Thanksgiving," Molly said after Daniel and Alberto had left. The two women were at the kitchen sink, with Molly washing her prized Waterford wineglasses and Kate drying them.
"Yes, it was," Kate agreed.
"It's nice to have family to cook for."
"Alberto isn't exactly family."
"He feels like it," Molly said.
Kate said carefully, "Do you think that maybe we're getting too close to Daniel and Alberto, Mom?"
Molly rinsed a glass under running water. "What do you mean by too close?"
"It's just that, in a short period of time, they seem to have become very important in our lives. We were fine before they came along. It just makes me uneasy to think that we might be becoming . . . well, dependent... on them."
Molly handed the rinsed glass to Kate. "There's nothing wrong with our broadening our circle, Kate. When Ben was an infant, and the farm was in the red, then we had to have tunnel vision to achieve what we needed to achieve. But things are better now. At least, they will be better when I am finished with my cancer treatment."
Kate dried the glass and didn't answer.
"You are such a creature of habit," Molly said, half in exasperation, half in humor. "I think it's wonderful that these men have come into our lives. I think it's good for Ben, it's good for you, and it's good for me."
Kate put the glass on the table with the others she had dried.
Molly said, "Don't you like Alberto?"
"I like Alberto fine."
Molly soaped the last glass. "Good. I like him, too. I enjoy his company. We have a lot in common."
"What do you have in common?"
"Well, we both love music, and we both love the romantic poets."
"Can't you talk about music and the romantic poets at school?"
Molly rinsed the glass. "I can, but I particularly like talking about them to Alberto."
"Oh."
"He said he would be happy to take me to some of my chemotherapy appointments, so that will spare you trying to cram me into your busy schedule, Kate." She handed Kate the glass.
"Mom, I don't mind taking you to your chemotherapy appointments."
"I know you don't, dear, but it will be easier if you have someone to share the load. Alberto said he would help, as did Daniel."
"See—we're becoming dependent upon them."
"What's wrong with that?"
Kate dried the glass slowly. "I don't think it's . . . safe."
Molly untied her apron. "Are you still afraid that Daniel is going to drop Ben?"
"No. I'm not afraid of that. It's not Daniel's relationship to Ben that is bothering me. It's his relationship to us."
"To you, you mean."
Kate put the last glass on the table, and she and Molly began to carry them into the dining room to put back in the china closet. Molly opened the glass door, put her two glasses in, and turned to get the two glasses Kate was holding. Kate said abruptly, "This afternoon Daniel asked me to go with him to a party in a fancy hotel in New York."
"And what did you say?"
"I was so surprised I said yes. Then he told me I'd need a gown. I tried to beg off, but then he insulted me by saying he'd buy me a dress if I didn't have one. I told him that I could buy my own g
own, thank you. So it ended up that I was buying a gown and going to this party" She gave her mother a dark look. "I think he outmaneuvered me."
Molly smiled. "Who is going to be at this party?"
"Daniel didn't say, but I assume it's some sort of an affair for the Yankees."
Molly said firmly, "I'm glad you're going. I think it will be good for you to broaden your horizons, dear. You can't spend the rest of your life communicating only to horse people."
"I'm interested in horses."
"Well, it's time you got interested in something besides horses. Young girls, like the ones you teach, are horse-mad; an adult has several interests, not just one."
Kate said stiffly, "Are you calling me a child?"
"Of course you're not a child, Kate. You are an excellent mother and businesswoman. But I do think a part of your growth has been . . . well, stunted . . . because of the responsibilities you took on when your father died."
"So now I'm stunted?"
Molly pushed back a silvery feather of hair. "You know what I mean. You've never really gone out with a man, dear, and you're twenty-seven years old. It's time you started to broaden your horizons. Go with Daniel to this party."
"It looks like I'm stuck with it," Kate said. She glanced at her watch. "I think I'll go up to bed, Mom. Six o'clock comes early."
"Yes, it does. Good night, dear."
"Good night."
Kate went up the stairs to her room, but instead of undressing, she sat on the edge of her full-sized bed staring at the picture of her sixteen-year-old self and Shane that hung on the wall. Mom doesn't see what I see, she thought. She doesn't understand.
The fact was, Kate herself did not fully understand the trauma that her father's death had inflicted on her. Tim Foley had been the biggest thing in Kate's life; he had represented everything to her that she would like to be. Most of all, he had represented security. There was nothing her father didn't know, nothing he couldn't do. And then he died, and left his widow and daughters with a debt-ridden, failing business and $10,000 worth of life insurance.
It was a blow from which Kate had never fully recovered. It accounted for her iron determination to do everything herself. She relied on her mother, but she trusted Molly. She didn't trust men very much. If her father, who had been her bulwark of security, could fail her, what could she expect from any other man?
Then Daniel had come along, and she could feel him slipping in under her guard, insinuating himself into her life. And she didn't. . . couldn't. . . trust him.
Why in the name of God did he invite me to this party? I have nothing to say to any of his friends. Mom is right, all I know is horses. I have no social conversation. I think I'd better tell Daniel that I can't go.
This decision, instead of making her feel satisfied, only made her feel irritable. Maybe I should go. Maybe I should simply show Daniel that I'm not the type of woman who fits into his world. He should stick to the supermodels who know the game.
She debated the question of her acceptance or rejection back and forth the whole time she was getting undressed. By the time she got into bed she had decided that she would go with Daniel because she didn't want him to think that she was afraid of going. Then she reached over, flicked the switch on her alarm to on, turned off her light, and settled down to sleep.
* * *
20
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On the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, Molly had her appointment with Dr. Anna Golden, oncologist. Kate went with her.
The MacGahren Cancer Center was a relatively new building and one of its perks was that a whole area of free parking had been provided for patients right in the front of the center. Kate parked her Toyota Corolla, and she and Molly proceeded in the front door of the building after giving Molly's name to the parking attendant, who crossed it off on his list.
They had to walk down three corridors before they reached Dr. Golden's office. There was nothing to distinguish the oncologist's waiting room from the waiting rooms of any other doctors Molly had seen, except perhaps for the fact that two of the women waiting with her were wearing scarves on their heads.
They've lost their hair, Molly thought. Will I lose mine? What will I look like without my hair? What will Alberto think?
Kate perched motionless on the edge of her chair, like a falcon in a cage. Her antagonism to her surroundings was very clear by the set expression on her face.
How did Tim and I ever come to have such an intense child? It was not the first time that Molly had had that thought. She was a quiet, gentle woman, and Tim had been an easygoing Irishman with a great sense of humor. Where had Kate come from?
"Mrs. Foley?" A nurse was looking at her inquiringly.
"Yes."
"The doctor will see you now."
Molly got up and, accompanied by Kate, went through the door, down a hall, and into a doctor's office. The woman at the desk was writing something, but she looked up when Kate and Molly came in and smiled. "Please sit down. I'm Dr. Golden."
Molly and Kate sat in the two chairs that were placed next to Dr. Golden's desk. Molly looked at the doctor as she wrote and saw a sturdy woman of about forty-five, with wiry black hair and a determined nose. She put down her pen and looked at Molly.
"I have your report from Dr. Rose, and your surgery went very well. She is recommending chemotherapy to systemically destroy any cancer cells that might be lingering somewhere in your body. Only a small percentage of women have this problem but, unfortunately, we don't have a means of testing to discover in whom the cancer has spread and in whom it hasn't. Consequently, we give chemotherapy to all patients in your position."
"It sounds like using a bomb to kill a fly," Kate said.
"Unfortunately, yes, that's what it's like. Regrettably, at the moment, I don't have any other treatment I can offer you."
Molly said, "I understand."
The doctor continued, "There are three things we look at on the pathology report to determine which drugs to use on you. The first is the size of the tumor. Yours was over a centimeter, and we consider that large, but the other two evaluating factors are positive. The HER2 gene, which signifies an aggressive cancer, was not present in your tumor. This is a good thing. If you tested positive for this gene, I would have to put you on Adriamycin, which is a harsh drug. People on Adriamycin tend to get very sick to their stomachs and have complete hair loss."
"How delightful," Molly murmured faintly.
Kate looked fierce.
The doctor went on, "Third, your tumor tested positive for estrogen receptive, which is also a good sign that the tumor is less aggressive. It also means that, when we're finished with these treatments, I'll probably put you on Tamoxifen, which has had great success in preventing recurrences."
"I've read about Tamoxifen," Molly said.
Dr. Golden nodded. "So I'll offer you a choice. I can put you on Adriamycin, which would be four treatments at three weeks apart, or I can put you on the less aggressive cocktail of Cytoxan, Methotrexate, and Fluo-rouracil. This combo is given eight times at three-week intervals and, combined with some good antinausea medication, will keep you more comfortable than the Adriamycin. You also don't have a complete hair loss."
"Is this treatment as effective as the Adriamycin?"
"The difference between them is infinitesimal."
Molly said ironically, "So you're asking me if I want a drug that will make me violently ill and cause all my hair to fall out, or one that will be gentler and will let me keep my hair."
The doctor smiled. "Basically."
"I would say that's a no-brainer. I'll take the Cytox . . . whatever."
"Absolutely," Kate said. "As long as it gives Mom the same chance as the other would."
"I've used CMF for years, and I'm perfectly comfortable offering it to you."
"Okay, then," Kate said.
"We should get started as soon as possible."
Molly asked, "Will I be able to work?"
&nbs
p; "You should."
"I think I'd like to schedule my treatments on a Friday. That will give me the weekend to recuperate before I have to go back to school on Monday."
"We can do that for you. You're a teacher, Molly?"
"Yes."
"One of the things that can happen when you're on chemotherapy is that your white blood count can get very low. This leaves you open to infection. That's why I would like you to get any dental work that you may need done before you start treatment. While you're in treatment I also want you to avoid anything that may give infection a chance to get in. No flossing your teeth, no using Q-Tips to clean your ears—things like that. If you get sick, if you get a fever, I'll have to put you in the hospital. So keep as far away from people with colds as possible."
"My goodness," Molly said faintly.
"All I can tell you is that it's not a pleasant treatment, but the results are excellent."
"That's what counts, I suppose," Molly said.
"Do you have any other questions?"
Molly looked at Kate, who shook her head.
"I don't think so, Dr. Golden. Thank you very much."
The doctor stood up. "Come with me, and I'll give you a flu shot before you go."
"Okay," Molly said.
"I'll wait outside, Mom."
Molly nodded. Kate waited until the doctor and her mother had left the room before going back to the outer office.
Kate took the ice blue dress she had bought at Lord & Taylor on Sunday out of her closet and looked at it. It was strapless and fell in a slim, straight line to her ankles. There was a slit up the back so she could walk. Molly had insisted that she buy it because it complemented her eyes.
What on earth possessed me to tell Daniel I would go with him to this party? I should have just told him to take the model. She put the dress down and went to her dresser drawer to take out the strapless bra and panty hose she had also bought on Sunday. She put everything on the bed and stared at it. What if I can't think of a single thing to say to Daniel's friends? They'll think I'm a moron. Daniel will think I'm a moron. Why in hell did I say I would go to this party?
Kate was not used to feeling unsure of herself, and she didn't like it one bit. She liked even less the sneaky feeling she had that the reason she had agreed to go with Daniel was to keep him from going with someone else.