“Meg, are you all right?” The door he was holding was half open but he refused to let her through. He needed answers.
It was only then that she lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. “I’m fine,” she said quietly and then she smiled. And as beautiful as that smile was, it was tinged with a sadness that squeezed his heart.
But he could see that she didn’t want to talk. Now was not the time. Somehow, although he didn’t know in what way, he knew that he’d hurt her…again.
For today he would leave things be and give her some space but next time he saw her he would expect answers.
******
December fifteen. On that day Meg was due to become a mother for the second time. But this situation was so different from the first. How could she tell Drake he was going to be a father when she’d assured him she wouldn’t get pregnant? I’ve been on the pill a month, she’d said, so everything will be fine. Drake had trusted her and then she’d gone and messed up by getting pregnant with his child.
What made it worse, he’d already been deceived by a woman who’d used pregnancy as her weapon of choice. And, she knew, that was exactly what he would think of her. To him she would be nothing more than a seductress who he’d probably think was after his money.
Meg sighed. She would have to tell him, of course. But not now. Not until she was strong enough to deal with the condemnation in his eyes and the reproach she knew would come. Until then she would stay away from him for as long as she could.
******
Two days was enough space, right? It had been hard but, not wanting to crowd her, Drake had deliberately held back from calling Meg. But it was Saturday morning now so she should be more relaxed, probably back to her normal self. He would take the chance.
Drake dialled Meg’s home number and waited. Three rings, four rings, five rings. It was probably going to switch to the answering machine next. He was just about to hang up when he heard a click and then a tiny voice on the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jessie, it’s Drake. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” came the faint reply.
“May I speak to your mommy, please?”
“Mommy can’t come to the phone. She’s not feelin’ too good. She’s in the bathroom bein’ sick again.”
“Being sick?” A feeling of alarm shot up Drake’s spine. Something was wrong with Meg. That was why she’d been behaving strangely. Then a thought came to him. Nausea. Jessie had said she was being sick. Holy…was Meg doing chemotherapy?
“Who’s helping her, Jessie?”
“I am. I took her a towel.”
“I mean, is there another adult in the house?”
“No, just Mommy.”
“Okay, tell Meg…your mom…I’m coming right over.”
Within half an hour of the phone call Drake was at Meg’s door. As soon as Jessie opened the door he stooped to her eye level and smiled. Not wanting to scare her, he said, “I’m here to help your mommy, Jessie. Can you take me to her, please?”
She nodded and the worried look on her face began to disappear. She gave him a little smile, not her usual bright smile, but it was a start. She reached out and took his hand then began to pull him into the house. He barely had time to push the front door shut behind him before she was pulling him down the hallway and toward the stairs.
But as anxious as she was, she was still not moving fast enough for Drake. He lifted the little girl into his arms and took the stairs two at a time.
When they got to the landing she pointed to the first door. “That’s Mommy’s room.”
Drake set Jessie gently on her feet then stepped toward the door, which was slightly ajar. He gave a quick tap and was listening for Meg’s response when Jessie bounded forward and flung the door open. “Mommy, Drake’s here,” she yelled and ran toward the bed which was now visible to Drake as he stood in the doorway.
There, propped up on the pillows, was Meg. And although she gave him a brave smile he could see she was exhausted. When Jessie ran up and bounced onto the bed she winced and put a hand to her forehead, in obvious discomfort. Immediately he went to her, the icy fingers of fear encircling his heart. Oh, God, please don’t let it be what I think it is.
As he went to stand by the bed Drake saw how flushed Meg was, but while her face was pink there was a paleness to her lips that was not normal for her. Those lips were the first things he’d admired about her, full and ruby red. Now all that color was gone. The dark shadows around her eyes told him she hadn’t been sleeping well.
“Meg,” he said, his voice sharp with reproach, “why didn’t you call me? Why are you here, sick and all alone?” He leaned toward her. “I would have come. You know that.”
“I’m fine, Drake. It’s no big deal.” But her tired eyes made a lie of what she’d just said.
“No, it’s not fine. You’re not fine.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m disappointed in you, Meg.”
She’d looked sick before but now she also looked defiant. “Disappointed about what?”
“That you didn’t feel that you could trust me enough with your secret."
She gasped. “What secret?”
He glanced over at Jessie who wasn’t paying too much attention to their conversation. She was playing with her doll and seemed absorbed in that for the moment. He cleared his throat. “May I talk to you in private, Meg?”
She stared up at him, her eyes full of suspicion. Then, never taking her eyes off him, she said, “Jessie, honey, can you go down and get me a glass of water, please?”
“Okay, Mommy.” The child hopped off the bed and ran toward the door.
As soon as she was through it Drake turned his attention back to Meg. “I…didn’t want to ask this in front of Jessie but I have to know. Meg, please be honest with me. Are you on chemo?”
“Chemo?” Her eyes widened in obvious shock as she said the words.
“Yes.” His shoulders slumped and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He shook his head. There was no gentle way to say this. “Do you have cancer, Meg?”