In This Together

by Patti Berg

  “Do you have old dresses?” Brooke asked.

  “Why, yes we do. Third floor off to the left. Of course, if you’re at all interested in movie memorabilia, my son and I salvaged the old Gold Nugget Theater that was being torn down. The place was in total disrepair, which is such a shame, since the photos I’ve seen of it in its glory days showed nothing but splendor.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Heath said, his eyes already lighting up.

  “That might be your style, Heath,” Candace teased, “but—”

  “But we’re here to have fun. Remember?”

  Yes, she did remember. She’d spent so many years being responsible for everything, that she’d almost forgotten how to have fun. Heath was reminding her every day.

  “Okay,” Candace asked. “Where’s the movie memorabilia?”

  “Just go upstairs, first door on the left. Some of my treasures might be rather dusty. Would you like to take a dust cloth with you, so you can get a better look at items you might be interested in?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you,” Candace said, grinning at Heath, who looked as if he was about to burst out laughing. The owner was definitely eccentric just as Elena had said, Candace thought, taking the dust cloth from the woman’s hand.

  “And don’t forget, the more you buy, the bigger the discount I offer.”

  Candace leaned toward Heath and whispered. “I want to look at that buffet she was standing behind when we came in. I don’t know how much it is, but if we could get a good discount—”

  “Come on, Mommy.” Howie tugged on her hand. “You’re taking too long.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  They made their way up the creaky steps and into the Land of Oz, where they encountered life-sized cardboard figures of Dorothy, the Tin Woodsman, the Cowardly Lion, and Toto, their edges curled and torn. A dusty tabletop held several plastic Oscar statuettes that had been painted purple, cheap picture frames with faded photos of some of yesteryear’s stars, and a Marilyn Monroe/James Dean neon clock.

  “Pretty abysmal,” Heath said, but still he rummaged through one tabletop and display case after another, all full of junk, until he uncovered an etched glass art nouveau wall sconce. Something told Candace there was more in this room than Hollywood junk, which wasn’t her style at all. The sconce, on the other hand, was absolutely beautiful, something that might have been salvaged from an old Chicago mansion. It was definitely her style.

  “Like it?” Heath asked, taking the dust cloth from Candace to wipe off some of the grit.

  “I’ve always loved art nouveau.” Candace hunted through the clutter on the long tabletop where Heath had found the sconce, hoping to find at least one more, but came up empty-handed. “There have to be more around somewhere.”

  Their treasure hunt began in earnest. Dust flew everywhere as items were pushed from one place to another and everyone in the family searched that corner of the disheveled room.

  “Found one!” Brooke beamed, holding her find up for all to see.

  “Me too,” Heath called out only a few seconds later.

  Candace was caught up in the excitement, hoping they could find a fourth, already thinking about where they could hang the sconces, when sunlight beamed into the musty room, hitting something half buried in a cardboard box. It glimmered in the light, and she knew that she’d found another.

  Sure enough, when she pulled the object from out of the junk pile, she’d found a fourth sconce. “I’ve got one too.”

  They gathered together to inspect the antique sconces.

  Howie jumped up and down. “Let me see!”

  “Just a moment, honey. I need to clean away a few coats of grime so we can get a better look.”

  Afraid she might break the glass shades, decorated with deeply etched yet tiny butterflies, or dislodge some of the ornamentation on the intricate copper sconces, each one shaped like a blooming iris, Candace carefully cleaned away decades of old dirt, until the glass and copper almost shined.

  Candace looked up at her family and smiled. “They’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  With shaky hands, she fingered the price tag dangling from the mounting on the back. “They probably cost an arm and a leg,” she muttered, mostly to herself, and when she turned the price tag over, she let out a sigh of relief.

  Candace smiled at her Heath. “We should get them, shouldn’t we? I can see them hanging in the entryway or the living room.”

  “They’d look really cool with Grandma’s grand piano,” Brooke said, “especially with that crystal vase she always keeps on top of it.”

  “What do you think?” Candace asked, slipping her hand around the crook of Heath’s arm.

  He nodded, a smile brightening his handsome face. “I think you’ve just sold me on art nouveau.”

  Candace stood on tiptoes and kissed her husband’s cheek. “Just wait until I get you started on collecting Victorian décor. Maybe Edwardian too. You’re going to love it.”

  “As long as we do it together,” Heath whispered close to her ear. “I know I’ll love it.”

  “Can Howie and I look around some more?” Brooke sneezed. “There might be even more awesome things up here, if we can find them under the dust.”

  “Of course you can look around,” Candace said. “I’m going to look around some more too.”

  “Just don’t go anyplace where we can’t see you,” Heath said, taking the sconce from Candace’s grasp.

  “Don’t worry,” Howie stated, throwing back his shoulders. “I’ll protect Brooke if we run into any lions or tigers or bears.”

  Brooke rolled her eyes, yet grabbed her brother’s hand as they took off for unexplored parts of the room.

  After gathering up all four sconces, Heath and Candace placed them on a ratty looking rug near the top of the stairs and then wandered around looking for other hidden gems, while still keeping an eye on the kids.

  She’d definitely been blessed when Heath had entered her life. Her children had been blessed too. Heath was not only a wonderful husband, but he’d already become a caring father.

  “Oh, wow! Look at this, Mom.” Brooke darted toward Candace, weaving between boxes and tabletops, until she reached Candace and Heath. She latched on to Candace’s hand. “That woman said this room was all movie stuff, but it isn’t. Wait till you see what I found.”

  With Heath following, Brooke dragged Candace clear across the room, where Howie stood guard over their find.

  Candace stopped, her eyes widening when she caught sight of the newfound treasures. “Wow is right.”

  Hidden behind stacks of boxes, she spotted the statues. Lots and lots of statues, all of them angels and cherubs, some at play, some sitting and thinking, and one little cherub with beautifully feathered wings held a beautiful blue-and-green butterfly in its hand.

  Candace squeezed between the statuary and touched the cherub holding the butterfly, sweeping her fingers over the smooth white surface. Wondering how heavy it was, she grasped it under the arms and lifted it with only a little effort. She did the same with another and another. As much as she wished they were marble, they appeared to be made out of hollowed concrete, and they looked a tad worn, as if they’d sat in someone’s garden for decades.

  But Candace fell in love instantly. So had Brooke.

  “Do you see a price anywhere?” Candace asked, as Heath, Howie, and Brooke inspected a few of the other pieces.

  Brooke was the first to notice a price, and she whispered, “They’re cheap, Mom. Really, really cheap.”

  They were more like ten dollars each, Candace and Heath discovered, but to Brooke that was really, really cheap. Still, Candace was transfixed and ten dollars wouldn’t hurt their pocketbook.

  “Which one would you like?” Candace asked Brooke. “And where do you want to put it?”

  Brooke looked at her mom and frowned. “I don’t want them for us. I want them for Evan. Wouldn’t they look pretty in the nursery for everyone to see when they stop to b
uy flowers?”

  Heath’s arm found its way around Candace’s waist. “She has a point there.”

  “A good point.” Candace smiled. “Why don’t we pick out our favorites.”

  “Couldn’t we take all of them?” Brooke asked. “The lady said the more we buy the bigger the discount she’ll give us. Besides, Mom, how could you pick just a couple when they’re all so cool?”

  Candace laughed. That was another good point. After conferring with Heath for a few moments, she smiled at Brooke. “If you, with Heath’s help, can haggle the owner down to a really good one price for all, they’re yours.”

  “Great! But first”—Brooke grabbed her brother’s hand—“Come on, Howie, let’s see what else we can find.”

  As they dashed off to inspect more of the second floor, Candace watched her children, feeling her heart swell.

  “You’ve raised some pretty special kids, you know that?” Heath said, pulling her even closer to his side.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” Candace couldn’t help but feel warm inside. “I know Brooke said last weekend that maybe we could find something on this trip for Evan, to replace some of the things he lost, but she never said anything more. I just assumed she’d forgotten.” Candace chuckled lightly. “I suppose I shouldn’t assume anything, especially when it comes to Brooke.”

  “Hey, Mom. Dad. Come look at this.”

  Candace was almost positive she felt Heath’s heart skip a beat at the sound of Brooke’s voice and that one special word.

  “Did Brooke just call me Dad?”

  Candace nodded slowly, smiling up at her husband. “That she did.”

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I’ve been praying for this day to come.”

  It was after midnight when they arrived home and crept quietly into the house, not wanting to wake Janet who had probably been asleep for a good two hours.

  “Night, Mom. Night, Dad. Love ya,” Brooke mumbled as she trudged up the stairs. With dead-to-the-world Howie in his arms, Heath and Candace followed Brooke up the stairs. She gave them a last, sleepy-eyed smile and wave and then headed into her room and closed the door. It had been a long day for all of them. But what a day it had been.

  Candace flipped on the night-light in Howie’s room; and together, she and Heath got him out of his shoes and clothes and tucked him into bed. She kissed her little boy on the brow as she always did and then Heath followed suit before they headed for the bedroom door. Not that she’d had any doubt whatsoever about Heath’s love for her children, but it was all so evident today.

  And tonight.

  He slipped his fingers through hers, shut off Howie’s night light, and after closing the door, led her to their bedroom and pulled her into his arms. “What a great day,” he whispered.

  “It was, wasn’t it?” Candace said, sighing when he kissed her, loving the warmth of his embrace, the scent of his aftershave that still lingered on his skin, and the way he could make her smile.

  “Thank you for letting me share your life,” he said, his words so very tender. “This life of ours is much better than I ever expected.”

  There were many things she could say to him, to tell him how much she loved him, but words weren’t really necessary. She simply kissed him and held him, until the long day got the better of her and she yawned.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  “Beat. I can’t wait to climb under the covers, tuck my head into your shoulder, and go to sleep.”

  A few minutes later she was in bed, and Heath had gone downstairs to check the locks on the doors, in case they’d forgotten to lock up, considering how tired they were. When he came back, he sat on the edge of the bed, took off his socks, and lobbed them toward the bathroom and the hamper she could see from where she lay.

  He missed—by at least a foot.

  And she smiled. Once again a pair of socks landed on the bathroom floor, and she didn’t even care. That had to be her husband’s only fault—that she knew of right now—and it was a pretty small fault at that. One she could easily live with for the rest of her life.

  Chapter Twenty

  HOW ARE YOU DOING WITH THE WALK FOR A CURE, Elena?”

  The last person Elena had expected to see in the ICU on Wednesday morning was CEO Albert Varner, especially when a patient had just thrown up on her. Even though she’d wiped most of it off, she hadn’t yet had a chance to change her scrubs. Somehow she pretended everything was normal—of course, what had just happened was a rather common occurrence in her line of work.

  “Couldn’t be better,” Elena said, trying to ignore the way Mr. Varner’s nose twitched, as if he was smelling something unpleasant. “I could e-mail you an update if you’d like.”

  “No need to do that. A quick rundown right now would be fine, if you have a minute or two to spare.”

  “I wish I could give you all the statistics off the top of my head, but—”

  “No need for exact figures. Just the highlights.”

  Obviously there was no getting rid of him. “Well,” she said, “so far, with the donation boxes around town, the dance-a-thon that Riverview Chapel held, the bake sales, and, of course, the Cops and Docs basketball game, we’ve raised somewhere close to ten thousand dollars, a great sum for a small town like Deerford.”

  He nodded, definitely appreciating that figure.

  “That amount, of course,” Elena clarified, “doesn’t include the pledges that each person taking part in the walk will receive from their sponsors.”

  “Any idea how much that will be?”

  Elena shook her head. “I could venture a guess, maybe five thousand dollars, but I’m not really sure. And of course, Friday we’ll start painting the town purple. We have flags to put up on a lot of the light posts on Bureau Street and Jeffries, plus in the Square.”

  “I understand we’re painting Hope Haven purple too. Is that correct?”

  “Oh, definitely. All in all, Mr. Varner, it’s going to be a huge success. Considering this is our first year holding the walk and a lot of the special events surrounding it, I think the volunteers have done a terrific job.”

  “Thanks to you, Elena.”

  Elena waved off his kind words. “I couldn’t do anything without a great team and good friends.”

  Her cell phone vibrated and even though Mr. Varner was still standing there, she grabbed it, hoping and praying it was a call she’d been waiting for; a call bearing good news about her health.

  “I’ll be on my way, Elena. But if there’s anything I can do to help you and your team, let me know.”

  Elena smiled. “Just don’t forget that you’re helping to kick off the walk festivities.”

  “It’s on my calendar, and I doubt anyone—my wife, my assistant, or you—will let me forget.”

  Elena grinned. “Thanks, Mr. Varner.”

  He walked away, hands folded behind his back, looking all around as if he were inspecting his hospital, but he was doing it with pride. It was one of the things that endeared him to her. He might be the head honcho, but he was a great guy.

  Elena’s cell phone continued to vibrate and at long last, she looked to see if the caller’s name and number showed up. Only an unfamiliar number appeared, but she answered anyway, only to learn another doctor wanted to see her.

  “Tomorrow morning, if you could come in at nine. Dr. Lawson would like to talk with you.”

  Oh, great. Dr. Lawson. The oncologist.

  She had to wonder if doctors spread out appointments for a reason—sending patients to this specialist and that specialist to make them so sick and tired of worrying between appointments and during appointments that they just started to accept things.

  Not that she was accepting anything. She was just getting frustrated. She didn’t have time to deal with all of this, but she must. That was the worst part. She couldn’t ignore what was going on in her body.

  Elena blew a strand of hair out of her face and headed off
to change into a clean pair of scrubs. Would this torment never end?

  Elena drummed her fingers on the edge of the examining table, anxious to get this visit over. She didn’t want another exam, she didn’t want to talk to another doctor, and she was tired of filling out questionnaires about her medical history.

  “I don’t know why doctors can’t standardize their questionnaires,” she said to Cesar, as they waited. “It seems to me there should be a databank any doctor can have access to.”

  Cesar grinned. She hadn’t seen a look like that on his face in a good week or more. “What are you grinning at?”

  “You.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re a nervous wreck, not that you don’t have reason to be. I just don’t see you like this very often, on pins and needles, ready to snap somebody’s head off.”

  “I don’t think doctors understand what a pain in the neck those questionnaires are. I mean, how can a person—like me—fill one out when their hands are shaking? Did you see the one I filled out in the reception area?”

  “No.”

  “It looked like a kindergartner wrote each word.”

  The knock at the door nearly sent her jumping off the examining table, and she knew Cesar was right. She was on pins and needles. As the door opened she wanted to pray, but the only words that would come were Dear Lord, please… They could have been followed by a million other words, but all she wanted was to be found cancer free.

  “Hello, Elena.” The doctor was exceedingly tall, at least six feet six, the perfect catch for Cesar’s cops-and-friends basketball team, if they ever needed another member. He shook her hand and then turned to Cesar and did the same. “I’m Dr. Lawson.”

  He set a pair of reading glasses low on a nose that looked a lot like Jimmy Durante’s…very, very big. And when he sat, he looked like a big kid trying to balance on a preschool chair.

  Oh dear, she was thinking the most inconsequential things. Of course, that had to be better than to dwell on…cancer.