When Angels Cry (23 page)

“Angie?
  What…are you doing here?
” he finally managed, releasing Kaylee’s hand and standing.   His gaze traveled back to Kaylee
,
and he frowned.  “Jesus, she called you, didn’t she?”

“She was only trying to help,” Angie replied.  She reached to touch his shoulder, but Bastian abruptly shoved past her.

“I don’t need any help.”  He clenched his teeth and stepped into the hall, hoping like hell to get outside alone for some fresh air to clear his fogged thoughts, but he knew by the tapping of heels on linoleum  Angie had followed him.  In front of him, a doctor carrying a clipboard stopped him.

“Are you Mr. Connelly?”

“Yeah,” Bastian replied, nodding.

“I’m David Smith, Kaylee’s physician.”

“How is she?” 
Bastian stared at the clipboard and wondered how it was so easy to sum up what was killing the woman he loved in a file that was only a quarter of an inch thick.  He shoved both of his hands in his pockets. 

“Kaylee has made you aware of a certain medical condition she is facing?”
  Smith tapped the clipboard with his other hand.

A nurse pushing a squeaky cart walked toward the two of them, forcing Bastian to take a step back to let her pass.  He massaged the base of his neck
,
where a pain blossomed so deep his fingers could never reach
it
.

“I know about the tumor, and I know that’s the reason she’s here.
  What I want to know is how she’s doing.
”  He stared at the clipboard, wishing he could just yank it out of the doctor’s hand and have a peek for himself.

“Not well.”  He stopped tapping the clipboard and gripped it in both hands.  “I just looked at the cat
scan from earlier today.  The tumor has greatly increased in size.”

“So what are you going to do about it?  What about chemotherapy
?
” Bastian asked, g
ritting his teeth
.
  He planted both feet firmly on the ground as if that would get rid of the light-headedness he felt. 
Yeah, right.
  His shoulders sank slowly. 

“Chemo isn’t effective with brain tumors.  The brain recognizes that chemo is poisonous and shuts it out.”

Smith shook his head and focused
not
on Bastian’s face but on a picture hanging on the wall behind him, a picture the doctor hadn’t noticed in five years of practicing medicine at this hospital.  A little girl danced through a field of blooming wildflowers
, blue
blossoms match
ing
her simple dress.  The yellow daisies accented her blonde hair.

  “Then what?  What can you do?”
  Bastian paced the hallway.

Smith leveled his gaze at Bastian. 
“Has Kaylee talked to you about what she wants?”
 

Bastian turned and laughed incredulously
, glaring
.  “Yeah, she has.  She said she didn’t want a fucking tumor
,
but God didn’t ask her.  She said she wanted to have kids with me and grow old together so I could chase her around a nursing home.
 
She said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.  What can you do to make any of that happen?  Aren’t you doctors supposed to have some sort of God complex?  Don’t you have any fucking powers to go with that ego?”
 

“I’m not God, Mr. Connelly.  I’ve never made that mistake.  The hardest part of my job is watching someone like Kaylee suffer when I’m helpless to change things, just like you.”
He held offered the folder to Bastian.

As Bastian began reading, the doctor went on.
  “Kaylee expressly stated that she did not want to prolong things with treatments that would not
enhance
the quality of her life.
  It’s all there. 
You can read
every word of it
if you like.”

“Prolong things?”  Bastian glared at the folder
without touching it
.  “It’s her life, not just any goddamned thing.”

“I know you’re upset.  You have every right to be, but I’m not the enemy.  What would you have me do?”
Smith withdrew the folder.  

Bastian glared at him.  “Save her.”

The doctor shook his head.  “The tumor is out of control, Bastian.”

Bastian rubbed his temple
s
.  “Great, what’s her new due date?”

Smith shook his head and raised his eyebrows.  “
Excuse me?”
 

“How long does she have?” Bastian growled.

The doctor opened the file and peered inside even though he already knew the answer.  “A month, maybe two at most.”

Bastian sank into one of the chairs that had been set outside a patient’s room.  “So it’s okay to say, ‘Fuck you, it’s not what she wanted?’” The tears that burned his throat filled his eyes so quickly he couldn’t blink them away, and they spilled down his face.  He looked at the doctor.

“Bastian?” Smith tried to interrupt him, but Bastian waved him silent.

“Do you know what it’s like to love someone so much that you don’t think you can make it even one day without seeing her smile?  God, have you even seen her smile?  Have you been that lucky
? 
Everything I see reminds me of her.  She’s in everything I touch.  There’s not even a color on this goddamned earth that she hasn’t worn.
 
I know I’m asking for a miracle.  I know I’m asking for something maybe I’ll never deserve, but God, can’t you respect my wishes and help her live?”  Tears streamed down his face, and his eyes glittered with them.  “Please,” he begged in a ragged voice that he’d never used before. 

“I’m sorry.” 
Smith reached out and took Bastian’s hands, squeezing them, and in the doctor’s face, Bastian saw his own pain reflected.  He started to walk down the hall.

“Where are Kaylee’s things?” Bastian asked.

Smith
pointed to the triage desk.  “At the nurses’ station.  Is there something I can help you with?”

“Her purse,” Bastian finally managed.  “Her mother would want to know she’s here, and I don’t have the number.”

Smith nodded.  “I’ll send a nurse down with it. Again, I’m sorry.”  He turned and walked away, leaving Bastian hunched over the seat, his vision still blurred with
pain; he
tried to close his eyes to keep the world from seeing him cry
,
but the tears wouldn’t stop. 

“
I’ll just bet you are.  It’s easy to be sorry when you know you’re going to strip away your scrubs, go home, and eat a good meal with your healthy wife.
 
I’d give anything to have a life with her.  Anything.”
Bastian shook his head and savagely wiped his eyes. 
He felt a hand
on
his shoulder and looked up to find Angie standing next to him.  Her eyes were also red
,
as though she’d been crying.

“I’m sorry, Bastian.  I am so sorry.”

Ducking from her caress, he straighte
ne
d in the chair and rubbed his face.  “You’re sorry?  For what?”

Her hand remained in mid-air for a few seconds before
she
dropped
it
to her side.  “Fo
r Kaylee and the way things are.  F
or whatever you want, Bastian.  I’m just sorry.”

“That’s mighty nice of you.”  Bastian stood and brushed past her to the nurse who offered him Kaylee’s black leather purse.  He took it and sorted through the contents until he
’d
found her address book.  Flipping through the pages, he finally discovered Denna’s number and he showed it to the nurse.

“Please call Denna Renard at this number.  I think she
’d
want to know her daughter is ill.”

Handing Kaylee’s purse back to the nurse, Bastian started back toward Kaylee’s room, trying his
damn
ed
est
to ignore Angie, even though she caught his arm, forcing him to stop and face her.

“Wait a minute, Bastian.  I just want to talk to you.”
 
He stared at her and saw, for the first time, the faintest lines that time had pressed into the skin around her eyes.

“Still here, eh?” he snorted.  “Haven’t seen enough to report back to the Old Man?  Well, I’ll make it real easy for you.  I’m the zero he always thought I’d become.  That’s what I’m sure you wanted to know so you can go back and tell him the good news.  He was right all along
.  That should make it easy for you to leave
.
” 

She placed her hands on her hips. 
“Goddamn it, Bastian.  That’s not why I’m here.”

“The hell it isn’t.”  He kept walking.  She followed.  He could tell by the clack of her heels on the floor.

“You don’t need me to come here and judge you, Bastian.  You do the job well enough on your own.”

“Meaning?” 
Bastian stopped mid-stride. 

She crossed her arms over her chest.  “God forbid someone like me comes to say she misses you
—that
she loves you.
  But I do.  I always have.”
  Her voice thickened as tears spilled down her face.  Her whole body shook
,
and her trembling lips parted.  She lifted her shaking hand to her face and wiped her cheeks, trying to erase the vulnerability.

“That’s bullshit,” Bastian snapped.

“
Why?  B
ecause maybe you
enjoy your self-deprecation?
  You’ve always hated yourself more than anyone else could have.  Tell Kaylee thank you for at least trying.
”   

He stared as she walked away. 
“So why did you come?”
 

She slowly turned and peered at him, frowning. 
“Because you’re here, Bastian.  I came for you.
  That’s it.  There’s no other motive.
”   

“
Angie, look at me.
 
Look at what I’ve become.
 
Tell me it doesn’t matter I’m a failure and you didn’t come here to find this.” He averted his gaze as he felt
fresh
tears singe through him.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Angie whispered. “I’ll take you the way you are. You’re my brother, the only one I’ve got.” She showed him the picture Kaylee had given her. “Besides, looking at you is better than looking at this picture.” 

“I’m a failure.” 
Bastian took the picture of himself, one she’d taken
one
late afternoon when Bastian sat at the kitchen table.  He handed the picture back.

She took it and put it in her wallet.  Angie turned her gaze toward where Kaylee slept. 
“No, you’re not.
  M
aybe you’ve just been trying too hard at all the things that don’t really matter, and maybe you’ve finally stumbled across the one thing that does.”

“You mean Kaylee, don’t you?”
Bastian’s gaze followed hers.

Nodding, Angie stepped toward him, trying to touch his shoulder, but Bastian shuffled backward. “Don’t,” he warned.

“What’s wrong with Kaylee?” 
She laced her fingers together to keep from touching him and looked toward the room. 

He cringed. 
“It’s cancer–a brain tumor.  She’s dying,” he finally managed. 
Bastian sank into a chair and thrust his head into his hands, preferring to stare at the floor instead of Angie’s face
.

“And taking a part of you with her.
  I wish I knew what to say.
”  Angie sat in the chair next to him and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at h
im
, unable to see
him
. 

“There is nothing to say.”

Angie touched his back.  “Don’t shut me out,” she whispered.

“Goddamn it, I never invited you in,” he snarled, glaring at her.  “That was Kaylee’s doing.”

“Bullshit
.
 
T
here were several times I know you called.  Maybe you never said a
nything
, but I know it was you.  I could feel it
.
”

“I never called,”
he snapped
.

“You’re lying.” 
She held out her hand, forcing Bastian to look at it.  “Remember this scar?”  He shook his head and averted his gaze.  “No
?
I’ll refresh your memory.  You were playing catch with me in the house.  You threw the ball too hard
,
and it flew past me and broke Mom’s favorite vase.  I tried to pick up the pieces.  When I touched one, I gouged my hand and started to cry.  You said it would be okay and plucked out the glass.”