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Chapter 43
Charlotte
Astrid and I sit side by side in the family lounge on the second floor in huge tweed chairs. A TV is on overhead, but it’s early morning, and I’m not interested in watching the news cycle again. Astrid stretches out in her sweats, with her hair wet from the shower. She told Rawlins before she left that she missed my call because she was fast asleep.
“Do they know yet?” she whispers though we’re alone.
I shake my head, curling up in the seat. “They’ll come and get us, but right now they’re running more tests.”
“It’s weird that he just passed out like that,” she says, “Maybe he’s been working too hard.”
I rub my sleepy eyes with my hand. “They wouldn’t have admitted him if it was exhaustion.”
“Sorry,” she whispers, looking at the TV.
“Don’t be sorry, Astrid. It’s a good guess.”
“No,” she says, “I meant I’m sorry because I wasn’t here.”
A middle-aged woman in a white coat walks into the lounge and smiles at us tentatively. Or at least, she’s trying to smile; it looks like a grimace, which means bad news. “Charlotte and Astrid Howland?”
We nod.
“I’m Dr. Houng. I’ll be your father’s doctor.” She tries to smile again, but I wish she’d stop. It looks uncomfortable. She looks nice, like a sweet mother from our school, except she’s nervous.
“What’s wrong with him?” Astrid gets to the point. “We’ve been waiting long enough.”
“You’re father has testicular cancer, stage three.”
I stare at the doctor, thinking there has to be a mistake. Mom had cancer, and now, Dad. “That’s crazy,” I tell her. “He’s a doctor.”
Her eyes look sympathetic. “Even doctors become ill.” She tries to smile.
“It isn’t funny,” I tell her.
“I’m sorry,” replies the doctor, “I didn’t realize that Dr. Howland’s daughters were so young.”
“Charlotte.” Astrid places a hand on mine to calm me, and I lean back in the chair, but I refuse to look at that woman again.
“If you want to help,” she says, “your father’s blood count is low, and it would be helpful if you offered to donate blood.
I sit up and speak to Dr. Houng. “I’ll do it.”
“I will too,” says Astrid.
“Good. You should be able to see him shortly, but I would recommend getting some rest yourselves. Treatment is exhausting not only for the patient but also for the family.”
“Doctor?” Astrid furrows her brow. “Could he have been aware of it before?”
“What do you mean?”
Astrid continues. “Well, he’s a doctor. Wouldn’t he have known he was sick?”
Dr. Houng tilts her head and considers the question. “It’s possible that he didn’t feel well but put off going to see a doctor himself. Unfortunately, doctors don’t take the best care of their own bodies.” She backs up to the door. “Your father is a brilliant doctor, and we will do whatever we can. Get some rest, girls.”
Astrid mumbles as the doctor leaves, “A brilliant doctor but a crap human being.”
“Astrid, I’m not in the mood for you trashing Dad right now. What’s wrong with you? He could be dying.”
She faces me and frowns. Her deep blue eyes cut into me as her mouth twists. “You don’t get it, Charlotte. If he knew he was dying, then that was his motivation for finding me.”
I don’t want to talk to her. I wish I hadn’t texted her. Everything that happens is because someone did something to her. She senses my mood. We wait together but barely speak after that.
