Awkward silence, except for the squeaky noise being made by my chair rocking back and forth.
“Okay . . .” The prosecutor sounded as baffled as I felt.
The agent who’d cuffed me back at Union Square stood, but Jake nodded toward him. “You, too, Agent Wright.” Wright sat back down. Then Jake looked at me. “I’ll see you outside.”
“I should . . . ?”
“Wait outside.” Jake’s voice was calm, controlled.
“Sure.” I smiled like I knew the drill, but I honestly had no idea what was going on. I walked out and stood in the hallway. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed my voice mail.
Her voice sounded as pure as a waterfall. “Luke, it’s me. I need your help.”
44
FAITH
“. . . AND I TOOK the thermometer out, and it read 102, and no kidding, she puked right there on the floor in front of me. Then Nell comes running in and says she’s just puked in the toilet. I heard this stuff was going around, but man, it just hit us out of the blue.”
“Liv, I’m so sorry.”
“It happens.” She was blinking rapidly and looking a little pale.
“You don’t look so good yourself.”
“Yeah . . . I do feel a little queasy. Listen, Faith, I think you better take Dad to his appointment with the oncologist this afternoon.”
“Um . . . about that . . .”
“Now, hear me out,” Olivia said, popping off the couch and starting to pace like she did when she had something important to say. Or think about. “You’re perfectly capable of this, Faith. You’re a smart girl. You don’t believe in yourself nearly enough. You don’t give yourself credit. You hear me? You’ve fallen on hard times. Everybody does. But part of picking yourself up includes doing things you don’t think you can do.” She stopped, waggled a finger at me. “And I know you don’t think you can do this, but you can. I wouldn’t put Dad’s life—his whole life—in your hands if I didn’t think you could handle it.”
I stood and took Olivia by the shoulder. “I think you should sit down. You really don’t look well.”
“I don’t feel that great.”
“You’re really pale.”
“Anyway, I don’t want to hear a word about it, okay?” Olivia said, turning to me as we sat on the couch. “That’s just the way it’s going to be.”
I took a deep breath. A really deep breath. I kind of felt like the blood was draining out of my face too. By Olivia’s expression, I knew I was right.
“Good grief, Sister, you look like you’re about to pass out. I’m asking you to take him to the doctor, not the morgue.”
“Liv, please. Just . . . just hold on, okay? I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I need you to hear me. To really listen.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m not taking Daddy to the oncologist.”
“Of course you’re not.” She sighed loudly. “All right, fine. I’ll do it. I just thought you might want the chance to prove to yourself and everybody else that—”
“I’m taking him to New York.”
I didn’t think she could get any paler, but I was wrong.
“What’d you say?”
“I’m taking Dad to New York. To Sloan-Kettering. There is a neurosurgeon, Dr. Sinclair, who is the best in the world at removing these kinds of tumors.”
Olivia was blinking rapidly again, apparently trying to process the information.
“Lee is the one that told me we need to get him there. So that’s what we’re going to do. It’s his best shot. Our best shot.” I put a hand on her knee. But she jerked it away.
“When is his appointment?”
I paused. This wasn’t going to go over well. “He doesn’t have an appointment.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re trying to get him one. Lee has tried to work through his Columbia acquaintances to get him in but hasn’t had any luck. So I’ve asked . . .” I’d known this wouldn’t come out easy. But it didn’t come out at all.
Olivia stared at me, then motioned for me to continue. “Yeah? Asked who?”
“Luke.”
“Luke?”
“Lee said I should try to use the Carraday family to get Dad in. It’s still a long shot, but they’ve got a lot of connections. I know his dad donated money to the hospital. I remember going to a benefit . . .” My words trailed off as I watched Olivia growing tense.
“So that’s your plan? Just skip this appointment, hope Luke comes through for you?”
“I’ve got to give it a shot, Liv.”
“What if he doesn’t get in?”
“I’m going to have faith that he will. That’s why we’re leaving this evening. I’m driving Dad to New York. We’re going to stay in a hotel there until we get in.”
Olivia shot to her feet. “Are you crazy?”
“I’m not crazy—”
“That’s your plan? Luke coming through for you? Dad in a hotel, on a wing and a prayer?” She turned, walked around the coffee table, stood at the far end of the room like I had the plague or something. “Dad will never go along with this.”
“He already has.”
Tears welled in her eyes—big, plump . . . the kind that burst out of you so fast you don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel them drip down your cheeks. “Why would you depend on Luke? His family?”
“Because they’re good people, at the end of the day. They never liked me much, but they’re good people.”
“Dad can’t travel, Faith. He’s frail. Have you noticed? What is that?” She gestured toward the living room, where Dad slept. “His fourth nap of the day?”
“He’s—”
“Dad doesn’t travel well. Don’t you know that? He hasn’t left home in years. He hates big cities, and you’re taking him to the biggest city!”
“To try to save his life!”
“His life? Or yours? Isn’t this just a scheme to get back to Luke? Using Daddy and his illness?”
“How dare you,” I said, standing. “I would never do that.”
“Are you sure?” The color was back in her cheeks. Bright red. “Because habits are hard to break.”
“What habits?”
“Selfish habits.”
We both tried catching our breaths. Our chests heaved up and down.
Then she put her hands on her hips. “If this isn’t about Luke, then maybe it’s about Lee.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I see how you two are. Chummy. Laughing. Enjoying each other’s company.”
I looked down. I couldn’t deny those accusations. A part of me—a big part of me—was tempted by Lee. Finally I looked at her. “It was Lee’s idea to go to New York. It was his idea for me to call Luke. There’s nothing going on between us.”
Suddenly Dad was in the doorway, bleary eyed, his shirt crumpled from the recliner. “What’s going on in here?”
Olivia’s whole demeanor changed as she turned to Dad. It was gentle and sweet, and her large brown eyes stared at him like she was a little girl. “You’re going to New York?”
“I am,” Dad said.
“You didn’t even ask me.”
“It’s my tumor.”
“But . . . you’ve always asked me for my opinion.” The pain in her voice was nearly unbearable. I was starting to see where she was coming from. This was a blind side hit for her. And Dad never blindsided her.
“Faith was here. She told me the plan. I thought it was good.”
“You hate hotel rooms,” Olivia said, wiping a stray tear.
“And big cities. But that’s where all the specialists are. Now, I’m hungry. Figure we better eat a good, well-priced meal before we take off. You and Hardy want to join us?”
Olivia just shook her head.
“They have the stomach flu,” I told Dad. He walked toward his bedroom. I looked back at Liv. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you out of
this.”
“Really.” She walked toward the door. Took her purse and swung it over her shoulder.
“Liv, please. I’m just doing what I think is best for Daddy.”
“You two have a good trip. Let me know if I can be of any help.”
The door slammed shut, and I was afraid our relationship had too.
45
LUKE
I COULD HEAR them talking inside, but only muffled voices, buffered by the heavy wooden doors that had shut behind me. Nearby, I’d found a wall to lean against. My legs were wobbly, mostly because I didn’t know why I had been dismissed from the room. But my heart felt stronger. Just hearing Faith’s voice stirred a hope in me that I’d lost the day she walked out.
I listened to her voice mail five times, to make sure I was hearing her correctly and also just to listen to her. Calvin was sick, but I could hear it in her voice . . . she was dying inside. I’d never met her father, but Faith always spoke fondly of him. I remember thinking that if we ever had kids, I wanted them to feel about me the way she felt about him.
A certain guilt followed me whenever she talked about Calvin. I’d taken her away from something or kept her from returning. She didn’t want to return to North Carolina, but I should have urged her to reconsider.
But for a while, we were complete, just the two of us. Our happiness was wrapped up in one another. What else did we need?
We needed the fairy tale not to end.
I looked up the phone number and dialed it, keeping my eye on the conference room door.
“Dr. Sinclair’s office.”
“This is Luke Carraday, calling for Dr. Sinclair.”
“I’m sorry . . . what was the name?”
“Carraday. Luke Carraday.” I cleared my throat; my own name was sticking there. “It’s a rather urgent matter. Dr. Sinclair and I are members of the—”
“He’s not available.”
“I see.” Sweat started soaking through my shirt. “Do you know when he might be in? Like I mentioned, it’s very urgent and I would appreciate it if—”
“I’ll let him know you called.”
“Tell him I really need—”
The line went dead. And so did my resolve. Finally Faith was reaching out to me, and I couldn’t help her. My name was like a curse now. I shoved the phone into my pocket and then tore my fingers through my hair. I had to find a way.
Suddenly the doors to the conference room opened. Jake walked out first, then Dad. I stood up straight, trying to ignore how damp my body was. Jake walked toward me, smiling. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before they change their minds.” He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“What is this?”
“Your immunity deal.”
I walked with both of them. Dad had his hand on my shoulder. “Are you serious?”
Jake put his arm around me too. “Yeah.”
I clutched the piece of paper. We walked swiftly like we might be running from something. Soon we were inside the limo. I was breathing hard, but I wasn’t sure if it was the walk or the news.
I stared at the paper, then at Dad and Jake. “How’d you do it?”
“Details later. For now, work. But tomorrow we celebrate.”
I nodded. Even grinned. I folded the paper and tucked it right next to my phone. It was freedom, but I wasn’t free because I still had to help Faith and get her back in my life. And no immunity deal was going to accomplish that. It was on my shoulders.
46
OLIVIA
I THINK I really did make my kids sick. A mom can do that. When she’s off kilter, everything else is too. I’d made Nell cry, twice, by being snappy. Now both kids were sitting in front of the TV, wrapped in blankets, sniffling.
“I’ll get their lessons done.”
“I just wish you’d talk to me about it,” Hardy said, bringing the books and notepaper to the table. “Why won’t you tell me what happened over there?”
I couldn’t. I could barely keep myself from crying. I needed to focus on something else. I could cry later, when the family was in bed and I was up at 2 a.m., unable to sleep.
Hardy stopped me as I headed back to the kitchen. “What happened?”
I glanced at the girls. They were enthralled with the TV, which I never let them watch during the day. “I knew this would happen . . . ,” I whispered.
“What? That she couldn’t take him? We can take him.”
“She is taking him. That’s the point. She’s taking him away from me.”
Hardy pulled me into the hallway, out of the girls’ line of sight. “Your dad loves you, Olivia. How can you doubt that?”
“Yeah, he loves me. But he loves her more. And I knew the day she returned, she’d get all the attention. She’d get his heart. I mean, are you kidding me? New York? She’s convinced him to go to New York? I can’t convince Dad to go to Whiteville. He says it’s too big and crowded.”
“He’s going to New York?”
“Some fancy surgeon at some big hospital. She called Luke for help, to get him in. They’re going to drive to New York, hoping Luke can come through.”
Hardy took a deep breath, rubbed my shoulders. “Well, maybe this is what your dad needs. It’s a serious tumor.”
I nodded. “I guess I’m feeling left out,” I said with a sad smile. There was only one person I could be this vulnerable with, and he’d known me since I was eighteen years old.
He pulled me close. Stroked my hair.
“I’m being a big baby about this, aren’t I?”
“Olivia, you care about people. You care deeply for your dad. That is no crime.”
Outside, we both heard the sound of a car driving up. I peeked out the window.
“Ugh! No!” I turned to Hardy. “It’s Faith’s car. I thought they’d be off to New York by now.” I stood on my tippy toes and put my face close to Hardy’s. “Please tell me I don’t look like I’ve been crying. Am I splotchy? I always get splotchy.”
“You look just fine.”
I opened the front door but was surprised to see it was Dad walking up the porch. Faith stayed in the car. I could only see her shoulder.
I waited for him. Kept my hand on the door, don’t know why. Dad looked pensive. I’m sure I looked peeved. I tried not to, but I’m just one of those people who can’t hide their emotions very well.
“Olivia, I want to talk to you.”
I flashed back to when I was fifteen and I’d snuck out of the house.
“Yes?” I tried to hold my ground.
“I know you’re upset. And I’m sorry about that.”
I nodded, mostly surprised because Dad wasn’t one to talk about emotions. Ever.
“You know how I hate big cities. And New York . . . well, I’m not sure I’ll survive the traffic there.”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“But I want you to see the big picture.”
“The big picture.”
“The biggest picture you can see.”
I wasn’t sure I was following.
“Dad,” I said, “what if you have a seizure along the way?”
“Lee gave me some medicine that should help that. And he told Faith what to do if it happens.”
I gestured toward the car. “You’re leaving now? This late?”
“Faith’s driving. She’ll be fine.”
“Dad, I have to say, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I know.” And then he reached out and hugged me. “Liv, you’ve been the best daughter a man could hope for.”
Tears gushed down my cheeks so fast they fell off my face for lack of room.
“There, there,” Dad said. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where this is coming from.” Each word came out breathy.
“I couldn’t have made it without you,” Dad said. That’s all he said. And maybe that’s all I needed to hear. He stepped back. “I have to get on the road.”
&nbs
p; I nodded.
“Take care of that sweet family of yours. Hope they get better,” he said with a wink that told me he hadn’t bought my story. Maybe he knew what I had planned. Maybe he was letting Faith sprout her wings and fly.
But to New York?
As Dad walked back to the car, Faith ducked so I could see part of her face. She gave me a quick wave. I gave her a quicker wave back.
And then they left.
I wiped my eyes and prayed that whoever this Dr. Sinclair was, he’d be a miracle worker.
47
FAITH
DAD SLEPT FOR most of the journey, woke up around 7 a.m., and was ready to eat. I knew he’d pick the greasiest truck stop we could find, and sure enough, right off the interstate in Philadelphia, we found Tubby’s and it looked the part.
“I bet they serve chicken-fried steak for breakfast!” Dad said, rubbing his hands together as we got out of the car.
“Glad to see your appetite’s back.” I opened the door for him. “Don’t make me return to New York to find you a heart surgeon.”
“Come on,” Dad growled. “A little gravy never hurt anyone. My grandparents had biscuits and gravy every single day of their lives.”
I didn’t argue, but I was starting to see what Olivia had to put up with.
Inside, the air was so thick with grease that the floor actually felt a little sticky. Despite the fact that three waitresses were wiping down tables, I still didn’t hesitate to pull out antibacterial wipes from my purse.
Dad watched me as I wiped the tabletop. “Not a bad idea,” he said. “The closer we get to New York, the bigger the germs are.”
“Funny,” I said as I rubbed antibacterial gel onto my hands. “So how are you feeling?”
“Hungry.”
“Dad.”
“What? Isn’t that a good sign?”
The waitress came, took our drink orders, and then Dad said, “You know, I miss your mom’s cooking. Still to this day, I miss it.” I tried not to look startled, but Dad wasn’t good at this kind of talk. “It was so hard after she was gone. I tried to cook for you girls. That didn’t work out too well, if you remember.”