Family Be Mine (7 page)

“S
O YOU'RE A SURPRISE
,” Sarah said, sitting on the couch in the living room. She slipped off a flip-flop as she wiggled a foot into one of the sneakers she had liberated from her knapsack. She grunted. Pretty soon she was going to have to give up tie shoes, she realized. Already half her shoes no longer fit her swollen feet.

“Well, I aim to please,” Hunt said. He had put dessert dishes on the dining room table, careful to avoid any direct conversation with Julie who was doing something mysterious with the paper napkins. “Here, let me do that.”

He circled the couch and sat on the edge of the coffee table. Behind him, logs crackled in the fireplace, taking the chill off the early fall air. He reached for the sneaker and caught hold of her foot with the other hand. “Jeez, your feet are cold.” Seemingly without thinking, Hunt dropped the shoe and started rubbing her toes. He couldn't help it. It was too much of a temptation.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Julie said loudly.

“No need,” Sarah protested over her shoulder, but Julie had already left the room. “Oh, well.” She looked down and would have felt embarrassed except it felt so good.

“So when are you due?”

“Hmm?” Sarah was lost in the feeling of his hands working the balls of her feet.

“I said when are you due? That's the correct thing to ask at a baby shower, I presume.”

Sarah shook her head. That's right. She still had a baby shower to face. “Ten weeks,” she said. “Give or take.”

“So you must be pretty excited? Got the baby stuff already?”

“Not really. I mean, I've already checked out IKEA online, and know exactly what I want, but I've kind of put off driving up to Newark and actually buying everything.”

He looked at her protruding belly. “I'm not sure putting off anything is the best course of action at this point.”

“Ya think?” she said with a laugh.

“So at least you're not putting off this baby shower?”

“Did I have any choice? Not with friends like Katarina and Julie organizing it.”

“Katarina is a cupcake, but that Julie…I don't know about her.”

“No, no, she's great, really. We work together at the hospital, and believe me, she practically bleeds for her patients.”

“You're nurses?” Hunt seemed to immediately realize his mistake. “Sorry, male chauvinist assumption. You're doctors?”

“Julie's an obstetrician. I'm a physical therapist.”

“Cool. And I really mean that. You're actually helping people, something I wish I could say. In fact, I've been thinking about that a lot.” He reflected a moment more.

“But enough about me. Hey, since you're the expert, you
should be rubbing
my
feet.” He looked in her sports bag. “No socks?”

“No, I'm a little behind with the wash. I can't seem to get on top of things these days. And now with the water aerobics class…”

“Tell me about it.” He slipped the one shoe on and tied the laces tightly and efficiently.

Sarah looked down. “You're very good at that. You could probably have an alternate career as a foot masseur if you wanted, and you'd definitely be helping out womenkind.”

Hunt slipped off the other flip-flop. “I like your nail polish,” he said before pushing up the bridge of his wire-rimmed glasses and starting his magic on her other foot. “It matches your bathing suit.”

“That's what I thought, too.” She stared at his hands. They had long fingers, pianist hands. Mesmerized, she watched while he manipulated her instep. It was so sublime, almost an out-of-body experience. “So if I'm in denial about having a baby, what are you hiding from?” she asked.

Hunt concentrated on gently rotating her heel. “Well, I suppose the most obvious thing would be having had cancer.”

“I figured you had.” Sarah straightened her neck.

“You've been through chemo recently?”

He rested her foot on his thigh and found her other sneaker in her bag.

When he didn't reply right away, she shook her head. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry if you don't want to talk about it. I mean, it's really none of my business.”

He adjusted his glasses again, even though they ap
peared perfectly straight. “No, it's all right. It's just that most people avoid the subject.”

“They probably are afraid of hurting you.”

He raised his head and looked at her squarely.

“Frankly, I think it's more like they're afraid of hurting themselves.”

Sarah frowned.

“Deep down I think they're afraid it might be contagious, that they might get it, too.”

“That's just nuts!”

“I know it's not logical, but people get a little touchy when they start thinking about their own mortality.”

Sarah instinctively rubbed her tummy. She cocked her head. “So does it help to talk about it? Your condition?”

“Why don't we find out? And if it makes you feel better, I could act all noble.”

“Excuse me, I'm not the one who needs to feel better, but if you really want, you could rub that foot some more. This excess water weight is a bitch.”

Hunt smiled and rested her sneaker on the couch and worked on her arch some more.

“Ah, you are a god.” She closed her eyes. “So what kind of cancer, anyway?”

“Lymphoma,” he said.

She opened her eyes. “And you found out be cause…?”

He ran his tongue along his chapped lips. “I noticed a swollen lymph node in my neck, and this feeling of being tired that wouldn't go away. I first went to my internist, who referred me to an oncologist in the city. That was that. Stage I Hodgkin's lymphoma, the cancer that tends to strike young…or, well…youngish men. Fortunately, patients have a surprisingly high rate of survival, especially when the disease is caught early.”

“Is this where I'm supposed to say you must have been overjoyed with the news?”

“Absolutely!” he said emphatically.

She looked at him askance. “I thought we said no nobility.”

Hunt stilled his hand on the top of Sarah's foot. “Okay, the truth is that you go through these reactions—denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. The whole grieving process.”

“And now you've gone through all the stages?” she asked.

“What's today?” He reached for her sneaker.

“Thursday,” she answered.

“Ask me tomorrow,” he said, and slipped the shoe on.

“And tomorrow?” she asked again.

“Ask me next week.” He tied the laces and swung her leg off his.

“And in the meantime?”

“I'll just have to—”

She waved him off before he could finish. “I know, I know. You'll just have to act noble.” She paused. “And the chemo?”

“ABVD,” he said, referring to the cocktail of drugs.

“Every two weeks for six months.”

“But you're done now, right?”

“Three months. Three clean months.”

“Which is great! I mean, that sounds great. But maybe I should ask you tomorrow or the next week, right?”

 

I
N THOSE FEW WORDS
, H
UNT KNEW
that Sarah understood. The feeling that he should be happy, but he just wasn't ready for all that happiness.

Here was this woman whom he didn't really know, who didn't really know him—well, who'd seen him in bathing trunks, which is more than he would let his family and close friends do at the moment, who understood.

And that made him happier than he'd been in a long while, if you didn't count Fred jumping on the bed every morning and licking his face for a “good morning” wake-up call.

But one thing for sure—today, tomorrow or next week—Fred wasn't Sarah. Fred didn't have him fantasizing about gliding together in the lap pool on the roof of his house, and bobbing together shoulder to shoulder, hands on each other's arms, legs…well…her legs wrapped around his waist in ways that could not really be described as isometric…. He could feel the beginning of an arousal, and clearing his throat, casually rested his hand to cover the strain against the inseam of his pants. All this in response to a woman who was pregnant, and not only pregnant—pregnant with another man's baby.

He breathed slowly, and when he felt under control, he turned, quite pleased. “You're right, you know,” he said. “You're so very right.
And
you have beautiful toes. So, to celebrate these two lucky events let me say that even though I didn't know about the event ahead of time, I am delighted to be here to celebrate your baby shower.”

“Which means you were originally here be cause…”

“Because I'm a friend of Ben's, and his business partner, too. Anyway, I happened to be here to discuss certain plans, future plans, really—”

There was a loud knock at the front door.

Sarah looked at Hunt. “I'm sorry. It appears that the hordes are descending, which means it's time to put on that happy face.” She pushed up the corners of her mouth. Then she wedged her arm behind her and started to push herself up. “Jeez, I didn't know this thing was so squishy,” she said when she didn't make much headway.

The rapping on the door sounded again.

“I'll get it. I'll get it.” Julie swept in from the study.

“Here, let me help,” Hunt said to Sarah. He stood up and hooked a hand under her arm. Sarah grunted and tried to leverage herself. She was halfway up when she put her hand to her head. “Hold it, a sec,” she said, and plopped down again.

The sudden movement pulled him forward, and his chest landed on hers.

Which is how Rufus, Sarah's office manager Rosemary, and Julie found them.

 

“H
I
,
EVERYONE
.” S
ARAH LEANED
to the side and waved.

“Hunt was just helping me get up.”

“That's the first thing I thought when I saw you two that way,” Rufus said. He smiled, but then Rufus was always smiling, or so Sarah told herself. “Anywhere special I should put this present?” He held up a large wrapped box. “I want to lend a hand and help you get up, too. It looks like fun.”

Hunt backed off Sarah and wiped his hands. “Thanks, but I think we'll be able to figure it second go-round. Shall we?” He held out a hand.

Sarah harrumphed and wriggled her butt to get closer to the edge of the couch. “All right. I'm ready for liftoff. Let's do it.” With Hunt hoisting her up and providing
balance against her back, Sarah tottered into an upright position.

“We've still got more people to go, but things are definitely starting to rumble,” Katarina proclaimed as she and Ben joined the group in the living room. Katarina was fussing with her hair, replacing a clip that appeared to have slipped out. Her sensitive redhead skin was flushed.

There was another knock, and Katarina's neighbors and more of Sarah's patients spilled in.

“I wouldn't miss it, especially when I heard that Sarah baked a cherry pie, my favorite. It's enough to make you forget all about cholesterol and HDLs,” Sarah's office manager, Rosemary, said. An enamel pin of twin baby shoes adorned her V-neck sweater. She passed her present to Ben and the others did likewise.

Ben looked to Katarina. “Where do you want these?”

“You can put them on the sideboard in the dining room,” she said, using her finger to count heads.

Hunt raised his eyebrows at Sarah. “You managed to bake a pie, but you don't have time to wash socks?”

“So maybe my priorities are a little skewed, but you'll think differently after you've eaten some.” She turned to welcome the group. “Gosh, I can't believe you all came out on a week night. That's so sweet. Katarina said it would be just a few people, but this is a little overwhelming.” Then she blinked. “If we're all here, I say let the party begin.”

“Hold on,” Katarina said at the sound of another car pulling into the gravel driveway. “I think I hear a few more people. She glanced out the narrow sidelight by the front door. “Sarah, why don't you come by the door
and help me greet the remaining stragglers? Everybody else, gather around, too.”

Hunt maneuvered next to Ben. “Here, let me help you do the manly thing with the boxes.”

Ben dumped them all in Hunt's outstretched arms. “I thought you were confident in your masculinity.”

Hunt juggled the boxes. “A real man knows when to build up brownie points.”

There was a knock at the door. Louder than the first two had been.

Katarina stepped to the door. “I'd recognize my grandmother's rapping anywhere. Her knuckles are so strong from making all that strudel.”

Julie sniffed loudly. “Never mind the strudel. I can smell her plum cake wafting through the door. Now the party can really begin.”

Katarina held up her hand. “Not so fast.” She swung open the door.

In stepped Lena Zemanova, the aroma from the freshly baked plum cake preceding her. She crossed the threshold, turned around, and made a yanking motion with her head. There was the sound of soft-soled footsteps on the stone front step.

Everyone bent their heads to get a better view.

A polyester pant leg and a single cream-colored FootJoy came into view.

“Surprise!” Lena shouted. She gestured triumphantly with her hand.

“Oh, my God!” Sarah blanched and covered her mouth.

Katarina clapped and gazed proudly at Sarah. “You never guessed, did you?”

Sarah shook her head. Slowly. She had yet to blink
since the door opened. “Everybody, this is my mom, Penny Halverson, all the way from Minnesota.”

They all shuffled forward for introductions

Except for Sarah. Instead she wobbled back and forth.

Hunt dropped the boxes.

And caught her in midcrumple.