On the Wolff jet, Ariel and Jacob changed clothes, he into khakis and his habitual white dress shirt, Ariel into a comfy knit skirt and top.
At long last, they arrived at their destination. The hospital in L.A. was like hospitals everywhere. Sterile. Frightening. Smelling of antiseptic and worry. They located Ariel’s mother without difficulty. Jacob offered to wait down the hall. Ariel, unashamed, begged him to come with her. Whatever emotional strength she possessed had been sorely tested in the last twenty-four hours.
She needed him.
When they entered the cubicle, a thin, gray-faced woman lay resting, eyes closed. Ariel blinked back tears. When she left L.A., her mother had been doing fairly well, her humor and spirit intact. “Mama,” she said softly, “it’s me.”
Seventeen
Jacob studied the two women as they embraced. Ariel had to sit on the side of the bed and lean forward. Her mother was too weak to sit up even a little bit.
The resemblance, even with Mrs. Dane deathly ill, was striking. He couldn’t remember Ariel stating her mother’s age, but she couldn’t have been much more than forty-five. Her blond hair, unlike Ariel’s, was cropped short around her face, but she possessed the same classic bone structure.
Ariel patted her mother’s hand. “What’s wrong, Mama? Why are you here?”
“Pneumonia.” The one word answer sparked a fit of coughing. When she could speak again, she continued. “The doctor says my immune system is weakened from the chemo. But I’m fine, baby. You shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ariel replied, her voice stout. “Where else would I be?”
“Shooting a movie?” Mrs. Dane’s droll answer held a hint of her daughter’s mischievous charm.
“Don’t you worry about that. Mr. Brinkman is happy with my work. We may even be a little ahead of schedule.”
“I saw the news yesterday. Tropical Storm Karrie is brewing off the coast of Africa. I know the window is closing. You have to go back, honey. We discussed this. I swear I won’t kick the bucket until you return.”
Ariel blinked rapidly. “Not funny.”
Her mom squeezed her hand. “I’m so proud of you, my love. You’re talented and smart and sweet. The best daughter a mother could have.”
“Careful,” Ariel cautioned, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I really will think you’re dying if you go overboard. I’m the kid who set the drapes on fire and tried to cook Barbie’s legs in the toaster.”
“You were spirited.”
“I was incorrigible.”
The two women hugged again, and for a fleeting moment, Jacob caught a brief flash of his own mother tucking him into bed. It was a good memory. Warm. Happy.
But short-lived. His heart bled for Ariel. The woman lying in that bed was on borrowed time. As a doctor he recognized that truth. Maybe not tomorrow or next week. But soon. And there was nothing he could do to ease the coming hurt.
Mrs. Dane glanced up at Jacob, lowering her voice. “Is this the doctor?”
Ariel nodded. “Better known on the set as my boyfriend. No one suspects a thing. Thankfully, I’ve been healthy as a horse.”
Her mother nodded, her gaze trained on Jacob as though she suspected him of doing something he shouldn’t have. He fought the urge to squirm.
Mrs. Dane patted her daughter’s arm. “Will you run down to the gift shop and get me a copy of this week’s People magazine? One of the nurses says there are several pictures of you in it. Jacob and I will chat and get acquainted.”
Jacob saw Ariel hesitate. Her mother barely had enough strength to speak, much less hold a magazine. “But I…”
A parent’s voice anywhere in the world holds the same authority. “Go, Ariel. I promise not to tell him any of your embarrassing secrets.”
Jacob chuckled. “I know a few already.”
Ariel stood reluctantly and brushed past him on her way out. Unobtrusively, he stroked her arm. He sensed she was barely holding it together. “We’ll be fine,” he murmured.
She didn’t answer. The grief in her unguarded gaze drenched the pure blue and darkened it. “I’ll be back.”
When she exited the room, Jacob picked up a chair and positioned it beside the bed. “Don’t tax yourself,” he said quietly, compassion in his voice. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” Her ploy had been painfully transparent.
“Is she telling me the truth? The malaria is gone?”
“Not gone,” Jacob corrected. “She could potentially have attacks for up to a year or more. But since we’ve been in Antigua, she’s been feeling very well.”
“I’m dying.”
“Yes, ma’am. She told me.”
“But you would know that anyway, because you’re a doctor.”
He chose his words carefully. “Outcomes aren’t always as cut and dried as the medical profession expects. A patient’s will to fight, the ferocity of the disease, the ways in which various medications are used… All of those variables make a difference.”
“You’re a wise man. But my time is almost up. Are you the person who can take care of my sweetheart when I’m gone?”
She cut to the chase with the swift slash of a knife, leaving Jacob’s uncertainties exposed. Somewhere deep in his gut he knew the truth, but perhaps if he didn’t give voice to it, he could maintain the status quo. “Ariel is a very strong young woman. She doesn’t need a man to care for her. But I will be her friend, yes.”
“Do you love her?”
Wolff men were known for their arrogance, their refusal to be manipulated. Jacob could shut down this painful conversation with one cutting barb. But he didn’t. Because the struggle inside him had increased, choking him. “I respect and admire her enormously. She’s a breath of fresh air.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Yes or no?”
Years of trauma knocked the wind out of him, leaving his chest cavity empty, a gaping hole where his heart had been. “No,” he said steadily, believing he was speaking the truth. “I don’t love her. But I swear to you that I will make sure she is okay. No matter what. You have my word.”
* * *
Ariel stood frozen outside the curtained cubicle. She’d made it only a few steps down the hall before she remembered that Jacob needed shaving cream. The inestimable Harriet had slipped up on that one point. Turning around to go back and ask what brand to get, Ariel overheard part of a very private conversation.
Her mother’s blunt question flashed on a neon mental marquis.
Do you love her?
No.
Desolation flowed like a sluggish river in Ariel’s veins, quick-freezing every cell in her body. No. I don’t love her.
Her fingers were so numb, it was a wonder she didn’t drop her billfold on the white tile floor. Limbs paralyzed, she sobbed inwardly. Behind that cloth barrier were the two people she loved most in the world, and sooner rather than later, they would be leaving her.
At the nurses’ station, curious eyes stared at her. She bit her lip, intent on nothing but escape.
No. I don’t love her.
Forcing herself to move, Ariel backed away slowly. “I was going to ask about flowers, but I see the sign now,” she said to the head nurse. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Eighteen
Something was wrong. Ariel was in shock as far as Jacob could tell. Earlier, healthy tears had flowed in dull acceptance of her mother’s condition. But since Ariel’s return from the gift shop, she was dry-eyed, her expressive face wiped clean.
A quiet authoritative word reminded them they had overstayed their welcome. Jacob bent to shake Mrs. Dane’s hand. “Rest. Eat. Do what they tell you.”
“I will. You can count on it.” She accepted Ariel’s hug stoically, but over Ariel’s shoulder, as her eyes met Jacob’s, he saw grief.
Ariel led the way out of the hospital, her rapid steps betraying her tumult. Jacob had been curious to see her house, but with their time so limited, it made sense to stay close by in order
to visit Mrs. Dane as often as possible.
The adjacent hotel was unimaginative, but adequate. As soon as they checked in and arrived at their room, Ariel fell asleep again. Jacob watched the TV with the sound on mute. He checked email on his phone and sent texts to his brothers and father.
Ariel awoke to an inner alarm just before six. “Time to go back,” she said, scraping her hair back from her face.
“You need to eat some dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Just some soup,” he coaxed, worried by her deepening pallor.
“I can’t. Let’s go. I don’t want to miss the visiting hours.”
This time, since their car was parked in the hotel garage, they elected to walk across to the hospital. The sun was shining, the sky a cloudless blue. Ariel had brushed her hair and tucked it up into a ponytail. The style emphasized her youth and vulnerability.
Just outside of ICU, she stopped him. “Will you examine her? See if you think the doctors are on the right track?”
He shrugged. “I’m not her physician. And I have no privileges at this hospital. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“But if she requests it… Sort of a second opinion? Please, Jacob.”
He could never resist that beseeching gaze. “Only if your mother wants me to.”
“She will.”
“I’ll wait out here to give you some privacy to discuss it.” Cooling his heels in the hall, he paced. Ariel was expecting him to produce a miracle. But he didn’t dispense those. Never had.
When he was summoned to the room, Mrs. Dane’s eyes were closed, her breathing harsh and labored.
Ariel nodded. “She says yes. A nurse is on the way with a few forms for you to sign.”
“I’ll need to look at her chart, as well.”
“I know.”
“So do you want to be here for this?”
Ariel knelt beside the bed, brushing her mother’s hair with her hand. “Mama? Should I stay?”
The older woman opened her eyes. “Let Jacob do this, baby girl. Go outside. Look up at the sky. Feel the sun on your face. We’ll call you when we’re done.” She glanced at Jacob. “Is that okay with you, Dr. Wolff?”
“Of course.”
The cubicle was silent in her absence. Jacob had a small medical bag with him that he carried everywhere. As carefully as he could, he examined his patient, frowning at what he heard in the stethoscope. The pneumonia was significant.
By the time he had finished his exam, Ariel’s mother was in considerable discomfort. Fortunately, a nurse showed up with a pain pill. Jacob leaned a hip again the wall and flipped through the pages of Mrs. Dane’s lengthy chart.
Test results from her latest blood work were alarming. But the cocktail of medications her oncologist had prescribed were in line with what Jacob knew to be the latest protocols.
He honestly could not spot a single decision that he would second-guess. Which was both comforting and depressing. Ariel was looking to him for hope, and there was little to be had. Not in this case.
When he sent Ariel a text, she showed up in seconds. Clearly, she had been hovering in the hall. She wrung her hands unconsciously. “Well, what’s the verdict, Doc?”
“Shall we step outside?”
Mrs. Dane opened her eyes, shaking her head. “No secrets. I believe in straight shooting.”
Jacob nodded. “I understand.” He touched Ariel’s shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?”
She perched on her mom’s bed. The two women held hands, looking at him as if he were an executioner. Ariel took a deep breath. “Tell us what you think.”
He had to smile despite the gravity of the moment. “Your mom is very sick, but you knew that.”
Ariel nodded. “But the pneumonia?”
“It’s responding to the antibiotic, albeit slowly, but perceptibly. The good news, Mrs. Dane, is that once the infection is gone, you’ll be no worse off than you were before. This was a crisis, definitely, but you won’t have any lasting effects.”
“And the cancer?” Ariel spoke for her mother.
“It is what it is. You’ve both had frank conversations with the doctor about the prognosis. The physical exam and the records I’ve studied don’t give me any cause to think you’ve been misled. All the treatments so far have done exactly what they were designed to do.”
Ariel’s expression was a puzzle.
He cocked his head. “Have I disappointed you, or are you encouraged?”
Ariel’s teeth mutilated her lower lip. “Both, I guess. So there’s nothing you would do differently as far as treatment?”
“No. The doctors you’ve been using are spot on.”
“I see.”
He felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “I wish I had better news.”
Ariel’s mother spoke up, her eyes troubled as she stared at her daughter. “This is good news, Ariel. I’ll be back to normal in no time. I’m determined to be sitting at the Oscars when they call your name.”
“That’s a long, long time from now, Mama. We don’t even have a firm release date yet. And who knows if I’ll get nominated. The Academy is capricious. They may think I’m too young or maybe they’ll hate my performance.”
“Impossible,” Jacob said. “I’ve seen your daughter in action, Mrs. Dane. That nomination’s in the bag.”
A nurse came in to shoo them out for the night. Ariel hugged her mom. “We’ll be back in the morning.”
“If they move me to a regular room tomorrow, I want you to go back to Antigua.”
The two women faced off, Mrs. Dane adamant, Ariel upset. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Ariel,” her mother said firmly. “You may need to take time off later.”
Jacob winced inwardly. He’d had no warning when he lost his mother. One morning she was at breakfast with him, laughing, hugging. That evening she was gone.
Was it better or worse to see the end coming?
Ariel ignored her mother’s comment. “We can discuss it when I see you. Sleep well, Mama.”
Outside, he took Ariel’s arm. “You have to eat dinner,” he said.
She looked for a moment as if she would protest. Then her shoulders lifted and fell. “Fine. You pick somewhere. I don’t care.”
They walked a couple of blocks until they found a little Italian place tucked away on a side street. The smell alone was enough to coax them inside.
Dim lighting and snowy linen tablecloths contrasted with old scarred wooden furniture. On each table a single red candle burned, stuck in the mouth of a Chianti bottle. The room was filled with locals, not tourists, which meant that the food was delicious.
Though Ariel maintained a distracted air and was mostly silent, he managed to get her to eat half a salad and most of a plate of lasagna. Because he thought it might relax her, he ordered a simple red wine and poured her a glass.
When the meal was done, the table cleared, and they had consumed two small servings of spumoni, he leaned back in his chair. “Talk to me, Ariel. I’m not used to you being silent.”
Her expression was difficult to read. “Sorry if I’m not entertaining you.”
The bite of sarcasm shocked him. Ariel was never cynical, and she went out of her way to spare people’s feelings. “You know that’s not what I meant,” he said quietly. “I understand you’re worried about your mother.”
“I think you should go home,” Ariel said, her eyes the stormy blue of a winter lake. “I dragged you away from your clinic and your lab under false pretenses. I’m not sick. And besides, we’ve filmed enough now to make my presence necessary. You’re free to go.”
Not for anything would he admit to her that the curt words stung. “You’re doing it again,” he complained.
“Doing what?”
“Having a weird conversation with missing pieces. Makes it hard for a guy to keep up. Is this because you’re angry with me for not being able to help your mother?”
She shoved at a melti
ng blob of ice cream, her gaze moody. “I haven’t put you on a pedestal, Jacob. Don’t worry.”
He touched her hand. “I’m here because I want to be here, and you’re not out of the woods yet. What’s wrong, Ariel?”
I’m sick in love with you, and you don’t feel the same way. What would he do if she flung the words in his face? She hated him in that moment. Hated his concern, his masculine strength, his integrity. She should never have gone to Wolff Mountain, should never have involved Jacob Wolff in her life.
But her bitchiness made her ashamed. It wasn’t Jacob’s fault that Ariel was in love with him. He’d made his position crystal clear. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. Chalk it up to jet lag and worry.”
“You’re entitled to be cranky, princess. No one expects you to be Suzy Sunshine all the time.”
“Still,” she said. “I shouldn’t take it out on you. You’ve been wonderful through all of this.”
While Jacob settled the check, she fretted. Would he expect her to have sex with him tonight? The local time was only eight o’clock, but Ariel was exhausted. And quite honestly, sore. Though it seemed emotionally manipulative, perhaps she could use her mother’s illness as an excuse to create some much needed distance.
Her heart was broken. Her mother was dying. And soon, Jacob would go back to his mountain. No. I don’t love her. Would she ever be able to forget she had heard those words?
In their hotel room, he kicked off his shoes, and with a complete lack of self-consciousness, lay down on the bed, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You take first shower,” he said, voice groggy.
Without comment, she gathered her things and locked herself in the bathroom. When she came out, Jacob was asleep.
“Jacob?” She said his name quietly. He didn’t move. “Jacob?”
She couldn’t touch him. If she did, the walls she had erected around her emotions to keep from having a mental meltdown would collapse. The craving for his embrace was a physical pain. It seemed like days, not hours, since he had entered her so gently and taught her body about ultimate pleasure.
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