“I can’t go.” Linda had already told him.
“Lin, you have to.”
“I can’t possibly.”
“Fran’s expecting you. She’s looking forward to seeing you. Jim tore his rotator cuff. That’s why she hasn’t been to visit.” Mark got into bed, and Linda turned to face him, but couldn’t see him in the dark.
“Say I can’t come, she’ll understand. It’s the drugs, we need to change the dosage again, it’s too much or maybe too little—”
“I called the doctor. We have an appointment next week. All I’m asking is that you go to Jill’s 5K. You don’t have to do anything else.”
“But it’s the day she died, it’s the day.” Linda couldn’t understand why she had to explain. “Can’t you move it?”
“No, I told you, it was the only weekend I could get the permit for, and they have to have police and an ambulance, by law. The Fourth of July is coming up, and if we wait until August, everyone will be on vacation.”
“But on the day? The very day?”
“Make lemons into lemonade. It’s a memorial run. It’s a tribute to Jill, a celebration. Don’t you want to celebrate her life? That we loved her, that we had her for as long as we did? She was a blessing, you know that. A blessing.”
Linda couldn’t ignore the judgment in his voice, feeling worse. She didn’t want to celebrate her daughter’s life on the anniversary of her death, and she didn’t want to celebrate her by running. She wanted to stay in bed and sleep. She was in too much pain. Jill had wanted to live, not become a 5K, but Mark had set a goal after Jill died, to make sure it didn’t happen to another child, to make sure Jill didn’t die in vain, when Linda knew that really, truly, that was exactly what had happened. Jill died for nothing. Like Allie said, Jill died for air.
“You can do it, Lin. I’ll help you.”
“How is Allie? Are you taking care of Allie?”
“You asked me that already, and I told you. She’s fine, she’s great, she’s enjoying the summer.”
Linda could only pray that Allie was okay and that Mark was in charge. She felt her eyes close, and Allie’s sweet, round face emerged out of the darkness, but Allie wasn’t smiling. She was crying on her bed, calling Jill, Jill, and Linda hugged her while they both cried.
Linda turned over miserably, curling up as tears slid from underneath her eyelids. She wasn’t herself anymore. She needed to be gone for a while longer, until she got to be herself again and the dosages got fixed and the pain stopped and she came back from the darkness into the light.
“I’m trying, Allie,” Linda whispered, just before she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 18
Daphne Barrow
Daphne sank into the magnificent four-poster bed, which was covered with a thick duvet, a brocade coverlet, and shams with gold tassels. She breathed deeply, inhaling the perfumed air of the suite. Her gaze wandered over the crystal lamps, provincial antiques, and heavy brocade curtains flanking the doors to the balcony. The curtains were open, but Daphne had been to Paris three times this month, so she didn’t bother to look.
She wanted to shower and change for the conference, so she slid off her Roger Vivier pumps and set them side by side on the cotton mat beside the bed. She slipped her stocking feet into a fresh pair of terry-cloth slippers with the hotel crest on them, even though she still had her pantyhose on. Rugs were a source of bacteria in hotels, even one as world-class as the George V.
Daphne unfastened her gold Rolex and set it atop the night table, followed by her pièce de résistance, a Jean Schlumberger sunflower-yellow cloisonné bracelet. She wore it with a silk ecru blouse and a Chanel suit in gold tweed, albeit from last season. She was striking, tall, and lithe, with her hair in a trademark blond chignon, accessorized with heavy gold earrings. She was often mistaken for a model, at least when she was younger. Daphne was a partner in the International Arbitration Group at Lovell Wheeler, some forty-five lawyers in New York, Los Angeles, London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Beijing, and Dubai.
Daphne realized she had forgotten to call her daughter this week, so she picked up the handheld, pressed in the country code and number, and waited until it was finally answered. “Sash? It’s Mum. How are you?”
“I was asleep. Um, er, it’s, like, six o’clock in the morning.”
“I’m in Paris, and it’s the only chance we’ll get to speak.” Daphne disliked Sasha’s sleeping in. It wasn’t a formula for success. “Darling, you mustn’t spend your summer laying about.”
“I’m not.”
“I thought you had arranged to give riding lessons at that therapeutic barn, whatever it’s called.”
“Thorncroft, but—”
“So why aren’t you doing that? You need those volunteer jobs for your applications.”
“The camp doesn’t start until next week, so I—”
“Why not go over, introduce yourself, help out? You can clean tack or muck stalls.”
“Mom, you woke me up and now you won’t even let me talk—”
“Seriously, darling?” Daphne felt her anger flare. “Now, please, there’s something you must do. I’ve been getting emails from Dr. Garvey about a 5K run for his daughter.”
“You mean Dr. Garvey, like, Allie Garvey’s father?”
“I assume so. I’m on the planning committee because he needed a lawyer to draft the waivers. It’s today, and he needs help. Go to the clubhouse, find him, and ask him what he needs. Be there at seven-thirty.”
“In the morning?” Sasha sighed heavily. “That’s, like, in an hour.”
“Do stop whinging.” Daphne abhorred whinging. Or whining, as Americans called it. “Now, darling, I have to go. Have fun. Love you, goodbye and—”
Sasha ended the call.
Daphne hung up, cross. She had no clue how she’d ended up with such a selfish, entitled daughter. She would have hoped she’d be an excellent role model for Sasha, but evidently not.
No one knew how difficult it was to be a mother.
CHAPTER 19
Allie Garvey
It was a beautiful morning, and the clubhouse buzzed with volunteers hurrying to set up for the 5K, unloading cardboard boxes of blue caps and T-shirts, bottled water, and waiver forms. It was only seven-fifteen in the morning, so the only other people there were the planning committee, a group of moms and a retired guy. A bright blue banner reading STARTING LINE hung over the entrance, and blue Jog For Jill signs covered the doors and windows. A long white tent had been erected over registration tables draped with matching blue tablecloths. Three Chester County police cruisers and a red boxy ambulance were parked at the driveway, where the paramedics stood around drinking coffee.
“It’s the big day!” Allie’s father spread his arms wide, standing in front of the tent. “Doesn’t everything look great, Linda?”
“So great!” Allie answered for her mother, who clung to Allie’s arm like a much older woman. The Garveys had on their blue Jog For Jill T-shirts with their shorts, though her mother was wearing jeans that looked baggy on her. Allie felt a pang, not having realized how much weight her mother had lost, and some of the volunteers remarked it when they said hello to her, welcoming her with big hugs.
Allie’s father rubbed his hands together in delight. “We’re going to raise a lot of money today! My colleagues are coming in force. Morty said his office is entering as a team, and Shawn’s dental techs are, too.”
“That’s great, Dad.” Allie understood why he’d been so busy, now that she saw what it took to stage the 5K. But she also understood why her mother hadn’t wanted to come, since Jill had died a year ago today, at 3:32 in the afternoon. Allie was mentally counting down, but she didn’t want to make her father feel bad. Luckily, she’d be home by then.
“So what do you think, Linda? Aren’t you impressed?”
“Totally, Dad,” Allie answered again, because her mother merely nodded, her lips pursed and her features barely visible in her oversized sunglasses and her blue Jog Fo
r Jill cap. Her mother had to be on her meds, but they were making her act strange, disconnected from everything.
“Allie, check this out.” Her father pointed at the cardboard boxes. “Everything was donated by local businesses. We didn’t have to spend a dime, so all of it goes into the pot for CF.”
“How do you raise the money, Dad? Like, do the runners get sponsored?”
“No, we do it with the entry fee. It’s thirty-five dollars a person, and the corporate teams have pledged to make a matching contribution. I think we’re gonna get two hundred, maybe even three hundred people. We blanketed the area with flyers, not just in the development.” Her father looked up at the sky, grinning at heaven itself. “Not a cloud, not a single cloud. And it’s not even hot.”
“We couldn’t have asked for better weather!” said one of the volunteers, scurrying past with a box.
“Linda, look at this.” Her father grabbed her mother’s arm in his enthusiasm. “Linda? Yoo-hoo?”
“Yes,” her mother said quietly, from behind her sunglasses.
“Look at the people who gave their time to make this happen. Not just our friends, but people from the development.” Allie’s father gestured to the volunteers. “Lin, it’s a tribute to Jill, it truly is. I hope you see it that way. With everybody working together, we can cure this awful disease, and no other kid will have to go through what Jill did. No other family will have to go through what we did.”
Her mother pursed her lips harder.
Allie put her arm around her. “Mom, it’s okay,” she said quietly, and some of the volunteers looked over.
“Linda, this 5K is a great thing.” Allie’s father touched her mother’s arm again. “This is our silver lining. We can make sure that Jill didn’t die in vain. We can give meaning to what happened to her, to all of us.”
“No,” her mother whispered. “No, we can’t, Mark.”
“Honey, don’t be that way.”
“Don’t tell me how to be. Don’t tell me how to mourn my daughter.”
“Honey, this isn’t the time or the place.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to come. You made me. You’re sick.”
“Mom.” Allie recoiled, shocked. Volunteers were sneaking glances at them, and suddenly Sasha Barrow was running toward them. Her blond ponytail swung, and she had on a blue Jog For Jill T-shirt, which made Allie want to barf.
“Dr. Garvey?” Sasha called out, reaching them. “I’m Sasha Barrow, Daphne’s daughter. She’s out of the country and sent me over to help. I’m going to run, too.”
“Terrific.” Allie’s father recovered with a smile. “This is my wife, Linda, and daughter Allie.”
“Hi, Mrs. Garvey, and I know Allie. Hi, Allie.” Sasha grinned in a way that was convincing, to everyone but Allie.
“Hi, Sasha.” Kill any squirrels today?
Allie’s father rubbed his hands together. “Well, Sasha, I’m sure we can put you to work. Allie, why don’t you get Mom some water, and you guys can sit at the registration table. Fran’s coming at the end, they’re driving in from New York.”
“Okay, Dad.” Allie led her mother through the volunteers, found her a folding chair to sit on, and got her a bottle of water, which she opened for her. “Here we go.”
“This is not a silver lining,” her mother said under her breath.
“Dad didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Allie sat down next to her mother and put her arm around her back.
“It’s a terrible day. It’s too sunny.” Her mother turned to Allie, her lips still pursed. “I’m not myself. I don’t feel like myself. I’m sorry, honey. For everything. I’ll be better soon. I’m trying.”
“It’s okay.” Allie felt her throat thicken.
“You know I love you.”
“Yes, I love you, too.” Allie felt tears come to her eyes, but blinked them away. God forbid Sasha saw.
“When is Fran coming, again?”
“At the end.”
“He’s the sick one, not me!” Her mother raised her voice, and Allie’s gut tensed.
“Mom, please.”
“Okay,” her mother said, turning away, and Allie let it go. Allie’s father, the volunteers, and Sasha hustled back and forth, and in time, the runners and spectators arrived, registered at the table, and went to the starting line, milling around.
Allie noticed there weren’t very many runners, certainly not the two or three hundred that her father had been predicting, and it never got better. She counted only forty-eight, including Sasha. Two police cruisers departed, leaving only one and the ambulance. Boxes of T-shirts, caps, flyers, and waivers remained unopened. Stacked pallets of bottled water were untouched. It was an obvious failure, and Allie felt terrible for her father. She would have gone over to comfort him, but didn’t want to leave her mother. She felt torn between two unhappy parents.
At race time, her father made a speech that Allie couldn’t hear, gesturing to Allie and her mother, but wisely not calling them over. The tiny crowd of spectators clapped, her father fired a starting pistol, and the runners took off, sprinting down Thoroughbred Road, rounding the corner, and disappearing from sight.
Her mother touched Allie’s arm. “Go tell Dad I want to go home.”
“Mom, really?” Allie asked, nervous. “He can’t leave now. It just started.”
“Tell him. I can’t do this.”
“Okay. Stay here.” Allie got up and went over to her father.
“Hey, honey, having fun?”
“Yes.” Allie felt terrible for him, knowing he was putting on a brave face. He had worked so hard on the 5K for months, and things were about to go from bad to worse for him.
“I realized I forgot the trophy. I left it at home.”
“It’s okay.” Allie patted his shoulder. “Dad, Mom’s having a hard time. She wants to go home.”
“We can’t.” Her father frowned, his fake smile shaken.
“She wants to leave now, Dad.”
“Too bad.”
Allie felt stung. “It’s not her, it’s the meds. They make her weird. She just told me, ‘I’m not myself.’ ”
“I got her an appointment next week.” Her father took off his cap, palmed his balding head, then put his cap back on.
“She said she was sorry, Dad. I’m just saying she needs—”
“Enough.” Her father looked into the distance, where the runners had gone. “The problem with the turnout was unfortunate. They tell me Will Smith made a surprise appearance at the mall this morning, to promote some new movie. It was on the TV news and the radio. Everybody must be there. We caught a tough break.” Her father shrugged. “I don’t know what happened to Morty or the girls from Shawn’s office. Something must have come up. Still, this is a great crowd. Enthusiastic, that’s what counts. Positivity. People working together, helping each other. Helping these kids, eradicating this awful disease.” Her father brightened, giving a thumbs-up to a passing volunteer. “And your friend Sasha ran, too. That was nice of her.”
Allie couldn’t stand her father saying nice things about Sasha, especially today.
Her father turned to the finish line, with its blue banner that read YOU JOGGED FOR JILL! “Sasha’s a nice girl. She lugged some heavy boxes. She’s on the cross-country team. Quite the athlete, that one. Very fit.”
Allie blinked, trying not to feel criticized. “I would’ve helped, but I was taking care of Mom and she really wants to go.”
“She has to wait.”
“She can’t.”
“She has to. Tell her.”
“Fine.” Allie turned on her heel, crossed back to the table, and sat down next to her mother, on the hard plastic chair. “We can’t go yet. It won’t be much longer.”
“Then Fran will take me home when she gets here. I don’t want to ride with your father.”
“Mom, really?”
Her mother didn’t reply, sitting stiffly upright, and Allie tried to watch, trying not to think about Jill. This
time last year, they were getting her sister chipped ice that wouldn’t give her any comfort. Jill had been dying, and they all had known it, trying to stay strong. Trying to be there for Jill. Allie didn’t want to let her go, but wanted her free from her suffering.
The runners reappeared, racing toward the finish, and in the lead was Sasha, her ponytail flying, her arms pumping, and her legs churning. Allie watched aghast as Sasha crossed the finish line, her arms flung wide and her smile ear to ear. The sun shone on her blond hair, and the sky was so blue it hurt. Somewhere, way up above, was Jill. Gone, one year ago today.
Everybody clapped for Sasha.
Allie’s father among them.
CHAPTER 20
Scott Browne
Scott stood near his office window, pressing the handheld phone to his ear so nobody could overhear his conversation. He was on the phone with Tiffany, one of the girls he’d been seeing, and it wasn’t a conversation he wanted his secretary to overhear. The office was open on Saturday, since real estate was one of the businesses that got more active on weekends, not less.
“Scott, when are you gonna pick me up tonight?” Tiffany purred. “I can be ready at five.”
“I’m ready now.” Scott chuckled, but he wasn’t kidding. He’d already played nine holes and he had an hour to kill before this afternoon’s meetings. He wouldn’t mind sneaking out for a nooner.
“I’m always ready for you, baby. I’m at the pool. Come over. All I have to do is take off my bikini.”
“Your bikini?” Scott’s mouth went dry. Tiffany sunbathed without her top, which drove him crazy. She was one of the few dancers with natural tits. The woman’s body was proof of heaven.
“The black one I wore on your boat, remember? You said you liked it?”
“I love it.” Scott felt movement in his golf shorts. Fore!
“My skin is soft and warm, and I have oil all over me.” Tiffany laughed in a throaty way, and Scott headed for the door, almost running into his secretary, who was standing in the threshold, waving to get his attention.
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