Billy didn’t push it. And his attention moved to the large painting behind the mahogany desk. Eloise Josephine Boulanger was scripted across the bottom—Dana’s mother, aka Mrs. B.
Honoring her memory … just feet from where her husband committed his betrayal. The Boulangers were a complicated bunch—that much he was sure of. Most families were, but ones like this were much better at covering their complications. A lot of places in big houses to hide their secrets away from the glare of the limelight.
“Eloise Josephine … no wonder she went with Mrs. B,” Billy tried to keep it light.
Dana laughed. “She hated that name. Nobody called her Eloise, including my father.”
Billy continued to study the portrait. “You know, she sort of looks like …”
Dana interrupted, knowing where he was going with this, “If I’ve heard that once I’ve heard it a thousand times … and you know what? Saying I’m the spitting image of my mother is the biggest compliment I’ve ever received.” She stared at the photo for a moment, before adding, “Although, I’m not a big fan of the gray streaks—my mother was very proud of her gray.”
“So you’re saying you color yours?”
“I’m too young for gray hair, and even if I did, it’s none of your business.”
“But we’re getting married—aren’t married couples supposed to share everything with each other?”
“No.”
They laughed, but it was impossible to escape the heavy burden this room held over Dana. Billy took another look at the portrait and wondered what would ever make such a sainted soul like Mrs. B end up with a louse like Tom Boulanger. In her note to Beth she mentioned that she was questioning her marriage, but nothing specific. He wondered if she ever had doubts about joining the Boulanger family, as Billy did.
“It’s hard to picture your mother in a place like this. She doesn’t seem to be a fit.”
“It wasn’t, but she was the one who turned this place into a home. My father might have been the master of the universe, but she was the queen of the castle. And she was the one who started this Fourth of July party—it was like her fifth child.”
That would make Dana, Beth, the party, and, “What did she think of your brothers?”
She got a good laugh out of that one. “They were her children and she loved them very much. They did tend to follow the path of our father, which worried her.” She thought for a moment, and added, “What exactly did they say to you? If they threatened you in some way?”
“I’m signing the agreement.”
“What agreement?”
“The pre-nup, or whatever your grandfather called it. The one I need to sign or you’ll forfeit your inheritance. The one you haven’t brought up.”
“Oh, that. Don’t let them scare you—my lawyers say it would never hold up in court. And my brothers would back-down before that, so not to expose any of our dirty family secrets.”
“I’m still going to sign it … just to be sure.”
“Thank you.”
Billy could see Dana grow agitated. There was only so much of this haunted house she could endure. As much as he’d like to hide in here for the rest of the evening, Billy knew that returning to the party was the lesser of the evils.
They made their way back through the long hallways, when suddenly she stopped. They stood at the entrance of a majestic ballroom, and Billy noticed the joy return to Dana’s face.
“We used to have such amazing events in here. Seems like yesterday that we had my sweet-sixteen party.”
“Thirteen years ago, according to your math.”
She tapped him playfully on the arm. Her outlook had changed dramatically since escaping the clutches of her father’s office. “And Beth and I used to sneak down here and chase each other, play tag, until we were worn out.”
She took a step back and viewed the room. Then began to play with her ringlets of hair, as she did when a big idea was coming to her. Billy braced.
“We should have it here,” she finally said.
“Have what?”
“Our wedding. I was thinking about our discussion—how my mother made this a home. My home. And what better tribute to her than to marry the man I love in the home she sacrificed to create for me.”
Billy wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know, Dana …”
“C’mon, Billy—it will be great. And the best part will be that we didn’t let my brothers win. It’s just as much my home as it is theirs.”
Billy wanted to talk her down off the ledge, but he stopped—her smile was just so damn radiant. Then Dana’s phone rang. And when she answered, in that brief second, the bright smile had been extinguished.
Chapter 39
They rushed to Norwalk Hospital, where Lindsey met them. She gave them the rundown of what had happened to Carolyn.
Since Billy had once witnessed her leap off the stairs of the rooftop patio of his cottage, this was pretty run-of-the-mill, if not anti-climactic. The most surprising thing was that Maddie hadn’t been involved. And for the first time in history he was happy that Kelly and LaRoche were nearby so they could pick up the children. Even if it did cut back on the former senator’s schmoozing, which he surely wasn’t thrilled about.
The part that Lindsey had little explanation for, and Billy found much more troubling, was what happened to Ryan. One second he was arguing with his mother about his role in Dive-Gate, and the next he was passed out on the ground, his breathing stopped. They were able to revive him on the way to the hospital, and luckily Dr. Soos had been on site, but they were now awaiting the results of his tests.
Carolyn was the first to reenter the waiting room. She was joined by Chuck and a female doctor dressed in blue scrubs. She had a couple of visual scrapes and bruises on her face, but looked no worse for wear. She held an icepack on her face to help with the swelling, even if she couldn’t feel the cold sensation.
She was diagnosed with a mild concussion, as if the action of your brain banging up against your skull could ever be considered “mild.” The doctor advised Chuck to watch her throughout the night, and wake her up every few hours.
Then came the arduous wait for word on Ryan. An hour later, Dr. Soos emerged with the details.
The reason for his passing out was logical. Ryan’s body was still weak from the beating it took during its fight to fend off the disease, and combined with the heat and that he hadn’t eaten all day—he had lost much of his appetite since the chemo—his body just shut down.
But there was more to it. The underlying cause was that the cancer had returned. And it got worse. His lymphoma had transferred into an aggressive leukemia. And the only hope was a marrow transplant.
Dr. Soos, always a silver lining guy, expressed optimism that a donor match had already been located in advance, as they had prepared for this during Ryan’s initial hospital stay. He added that most patients waiting for these type of transplants die while waiting to find a match. The more pragmatic, some would say cynical, Billy, thought it was hard to feel anything but demoralized at this point, after all the kid had gone through and how hard he’d fought to get back to this point.
Dr. Soos also spun the pool incident into a positive light, saying that it allowed them to catch this at a stage where there was still hope. If not for the episode, the diagnosis might have been made too late. Billy found this to be another hollow victory.
Almost an hour later, Guy and Heidi entered the waiting room, clinging to each other. Billy observed Heidi—she wasn’t sobbing or hysterical. She was something much worse—she was numb to the pain. He understood the feeling of hopelessness, and he worried for her.
And it also reinforced the power of a mother’s intuition, something Billy had learned from Beth. Heidi wasn’t paranoid or being overprotective, she was acting on instinct—she could feel the danger closing in, and knew it was no time to let down their guard.
They provided hugs and well-intentioned words to the Borchers, but what could they possibly say to m
ake this better? Guy actually apologized for Chuck having to shut down his party. For real.
It was time to part ways. They would be traveling back to Boston tonight, and it was time for Chuck to get Carolyn home as well.
But she wasn’t budging. “I don’t want to go.”
“We’ll make some of those pig sandwiches you like.”
“I want to see Ryan.”
Dr. Soos gently informed her that Ryan wasn’t allowed to take visitors right now.
“But I wanna help him get better,” she pleaded.
After some reflection, Dr. Soos said, “I think I know a way you can help.”
This excited her. “How?”
“Not just for Ryan, but all sorts of kids who are sick like him.”
“Now you’re talking. So what are we waiting for?”
Chapter 40
Carolyn returned with Dr. Soos, and a sticker signifying that she had donated platelets. She seemed generally enthusiastic about the process … likely enhanced by the fact that she can’t feel needles.
She described it for them, “They took my blood and put it in this machine, that took the platelets out … I don’t really need them, but sick people do … and then they put my blood back. They say it could help a lot of people!”
“Sounds like it went well then,” Chuck said.
“I got a cookie, but they said I can’t do any heavy lifting for the rest of the day.”
Chuck smiled. “Where can I get that deal?”
They said their goodbyes to Dr. Soos, who would be accompanying the Borchers back to Boston, and then made the quiet drive back to New Canaan. Chuck carried Carolyn in and they fell onto the couch. “It’s good to be home,” Chuck said.
“Tell me about it,” Carolyn added.
Dana looked to Billy as if she’d had an epiphany, and said, “They’re right. This is our home.”
“At least until our offer is accepted.”
“We’re not buying that house.”
“We’re not?”
“I was wrong … what I told you at the party. The Greenwich house was my home, but this is now.”
“What does that have to do with the Fairfield house?”
“It means that we should have our wedding here. It’s our home, and home is where the heart is, right?”
Carolyn was re-energized. “You’re going to have your wedding at my house, Aunt Dana?”
“We sure are, kid. And we’re not moving.”
“You’re going to do what?” Chuck asked with a look of disbelief.
Before he could protest, Lindsey arrived with pork sandwiches. “It keeps getting better and better,” Carolyn belted out.
“How did you do that so fast?” Chuck asked.
“I’d like to take credit, but it seems that Hawk and the Scroggins girls cleaned up the party while we were gone and packed all the food into the refrigerator, including these tasty sandwiches.”
“Thank goodness for Hawk,” were the words Billy thought he’d never utter, as he bit into the sandwich.
After they finished eating, and Chuck and Carolyn played an intense game of NHL ’94, won by the Carolyn, of course. She then asked that Billy read to her before she went to sleep.
When he arrived in her room, and took a seat beside her bed, he noticed that her expression had turned serious.
“What’s wrong, Supergirl?”
“I’m not feeling very super.”
“Do you have a tummy-ache? Your dad warned you not to mix pork sandwiches and ice cream.”
“You know I can’t feel a stomachache.”
“Then what’s bothering you?”
“Is it my fault Ryan is sick again?”
“Of course not—why would you even say that?”
“Because we were diving in the pool and we weren’t sposed to.”
“It’s not your fault … or Ryan’s. You were just having a good time, like kids should be doing.”
“Then why’s he sick again?”
“It’s just that they thought they got all the bad stuff out, but some of it was still inside him.”
“How could they miss it?”
“Sometimes cancer can be tricky, and it hides where the doctors can’t see it. But now that they know where it’s hiding, they can get it out of him.”
Her face grew frustrated. “Cancer can be a mean jerk!” She paused for a second, and added, “Excuse my language.”
“It is mean, but bullies never win in the end. And luckily for Ryan, he has a good-luck charm in you to help him get through it.”
“How am I a good luck charm?”
“If it wasn’t for you falling off those chairs, then maybe Ryan wouldn’t have had to go to the hospital, and they might not have found he was sick before it was too late to help him.”
“So I’m like a hero?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Then added, “And I wouldn’t push my luck on the diving. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
“A broken neck sounds like—”
“No it wouldn’t. It would be the opposite of fun. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you’d have to wear a neck brace and you couldn’t move your head.” Billy took one of her pillows and held it over his neck like a brace, and acted like he couldn’t turn his head. Carolyn did the same.
They both got a good laugh out of that one. “You’re funny, Billy, and I’m glad you’re not moving to a new house, and that you and Aunt Dana are having your wedding here.”
“I don’t think that’s official yet.”
She sighed. “Like Aunt Dana doesn’t always get her way.”
“I can’t believe you’re talking.”
“Can you read me my favorite book before I get sleepy?”
He’d brought one of her favorite Peanut Butter & Jelly stories he thought was perfect for the occasion.
She looked disappointed. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer Dr. Seuss.”
Despite the bruised ego, he set the PB&J book on her nightstand and walked to her small bookcase, and searched for The Cat in the Hat.
He found it and turned back toward Carolyn. He stared at her, marveling at her resolve. He thought of all of those she’d lost already, and now Ryan, whom she adored, was fighting against the stiffest of odds.
For a moment Billy felt sadness. But then he took note of the book in his hand, and thought of a line that had been attributed to Dr. Seuss.
Don’t cry because it’s over—smile because it happened.
Labor Day Weekend
Chapter 41
Carolyn walked side-by-side with Chuck through the airport terminal, wheeling her miniature, kid-sized luggage behind her.
As they entered the gate area, she asked, “How old do you have to be to fly by yourself? You have to be five on the train.”
A rather odd question. “Why do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “Just curious.”
“I think you have to be six.”
“I’m only five years and 355 days old.”
“I guess you’re stuck with me then, kid.”
She reached her hand out to Chuck’s arm and acted like it had been glued to it. “We’re stuck together—oh no!” She continued to pretend like she couldn’t shake it free. Chuck couldn’t help but to smile. “Pay attention where you’re going so you don’t run into anybody.”
“It’s not like it will hurt me.”
“But it might hurt them.”
After a moment of reflection, she said, “Oh yeah. Didn’t think about that.”
Chuck looked down at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe my little girl is almost six years old.”
“It seems like I’ve been around a lot longer than that.”
He laughed. “Tell me about it. I can’t remember my life without you in it.”
They walked some more and Carolyn turned quiet. Chuck could tell she was thinking—maybe she was starting to understand what it mean
t to be going on this trip.
“What’s on your mind?”
Her face crinkled. “I still don’t get it.”
“It’s just like I told you. I’m going to talk to John Dobbs about a coaching job—he’s the president of the Nashville Predators.”
“But why would anyone want to coach the Nashville Predators? They were in last place and they’re not even on NHL 94.”
“My job would be to try to make them better—like a teacher. The kids in your class didn’t know how to read until your teacher taught you, right?”
“Like Lindsey,” she said, and Chuck felt his stomach grip.
He wasn’t sure if Carolyn led him there on purpose to make a point, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. More often than not, she was playing chess, while the rest of them were playing checkers.
They boarded the plane and found their seats—Carolyn chose the window, while Chuck took the dreaded middle seat. She insisted on putting her bag in the overhead compartment all by herself, or at least with Chuck lifting her up to do so.
But when Chuck set her down, and went to shut the compartment door, the luggage began tumbling out. And before he could do anything, it was toppling down on Carolyn’s head.
Chuck instinctively dove to try to protect her, and the flight attendants ran to try to help him. But it was too late. The other passengers stopped what they were doing, staring in horror as the carry-on baggage piled on the little girl.
Stunned silence filled the cabin, before being interrupted by Carolyn’s laughter. “That was fun!” she said as she emerged from the rubble. “It’s raining suitcases,” she added joyfully, receiving strange looks from the other passengers.
“She’s got a hard head, like her dad,” Chuck replied to the strange looks, not wanting to go into the details.
“Can you act like it hurt?” he whispered to her.
She played along—pretending to be dizzy, and holding her bruised cheek as she wobbled back to her seat. Chuck helped the flight attendants re-secure the items in the overhead compartment. “Do you want her to see a doctor before we take off?” they asked, concern in their voices.
The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1 Page 20