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Resting my elbows on the desk, I brought my hands together and started to rub them back and forth with an easy slide.
“That’s understandable, Fiona. In fact, if you’d said anything else, I would’ve been concerned. But the simple fact is that we’ve got terrific science behind us, the research is solid, and we have more than enough to show the investors. You‘ll just have to trust me.“
Fiona lowered her head and brought her hands together, looking at her fingernails.
“I do, Gabe.”
FIONA
Prior to my meeting with Gabe, I’d been honing the presentation in the past week or so. My confidence ebbed and flowed, and it so happened when Gabe summoned me for the most recent discussion, I suffered from a good bit of doubt.
As far as Gabe’s demand I go to St. Barth’s ahead of time with him, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was relieved Gabe was willing to help me polish the presentation. I was more than certain I’d see dramatic improvement with his help.
On the other, well, it meant I’d be alone with Gabe.
He’d been pleasant during our discussion. He didn’t appear to be upset in the least with what I’d said to him at the restaurant. Knowing him though, I’d have to keep my guard up, since there was as good a chance as any he’d try something. But I really had no choice in the matter, so I resolved to be on guard and make the best of it.
With respect to the presentation, my hard work began to pay off. I’d grown much more at home speaking in front of crowds, thanks to my Toastmasters speeches. In addition, my position at Hawkins Biotech required regular meetings with the staff, during which I had to lead from the front of the conference room.
And, as if that weren’t enough, I rehearsed in front of my grandmother on a regular basis. By now, she knew the speech as well as I did, and I wouldn’t have put it past her to be able to deliver it in a pinch.
It so happened tonight was one of those nights, and as I wrapped up another dry run in her bedroom after dinner, we discussed where I could improve and shore up my weaknesses. The good news was that, little by little, my confidence grew.
And although my grandmother knew all about the presentation, she had no idea it was in St. Barths. I’d have to break the news to her sooner or later, and as we wrapped up my rehearsals for the night, the time had arrived.
I took a sip of a nearby glass of water with a bit of honey and lemon. It was supposed to work wonders on the throat when you’re doing a lot of speaking. It must have worked to some degree, because since trying it, I hadn’t had any issues. After two large gulps, I set the glass down on my grandmother’s nightstand. The tart and sweet of the liquid swirled down my throat like a liquid candy cane. After I finished, I plopped down on the mattress next to my grandmother. The springs in the bedding squeaked as I settled at her side.
“Grandmother,” I began. “We have to talk about a couple of things, all right?”
My grandmother reclined her head into her pillow. Rolling it towards me, she glanced up at me over the tops of her bifocals. Weary lines swept out from beneath her spectacles and deepened as she offered me a tired smile in response.
“Okay, dear. Is it about your presentation?”
“Yes. Well, yes and no.”
“What do you mean?”
I cleared my throat, and after sliding a chunky strand of hair behind my ear, I began.
“Well, so you know I’m doing the presentation, but what you don’t know is that I’m not doing it here… in town I mean.”
“Oh,” she said, as she paused and eased further back into the pillows. “Well, where will you be going?”
I spent the next few minutes explaining where St. Barths was and why Gabe felt it necessary to gather key employees and especially investors there. By setting up a casual meeting environment, he intended to have the whole process run a lot smoother.
My grandmother nodded as I spoke.
“Very good, dear. I’m so thrilled things are going well.”
I reached down and wrapped my fingers around her forearm. With a curl of my digits, I squeezed the paper thin, near-translucent skin and frail muscles.
“Well, so I’ll be gone for a while, Grandmother. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Well, of course, Fiona.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“What choice do I have Fiona? Even if I didn’t want it, we need the money and your job is the only thing bringing it in for us.”
“Okay,” I said, as I smiled and released her arm from my grasp. “You know I worry.”
“Don’t, dear.”
I explained to her I’d arranged for the same in-home nursing care I’d hired for my short-lived spa retreat with Gabe. She seemed more agreeable than I suspected. In the end, I assumed she probably realized there was no alternative. She was in no condition to travel, and even if she could, the meeting in St. Barths was far from a family outing.
“Honestly, Fiona,” she said, as her eyes drifted closed. “You don’t have a thing to worry about.”
I chuckled. “You know that’s not possible, don’t you? I worry about everything.”
“Yes, I do my dear. Try not to worry about this, though. I can assure you I’ll be fine. I’ve got a bit of time yet before this cancer takes me.”
I pursed my lips at her. “You know I hate it when you say things like that.”
“I know, Fiona,” she muttered.
I sensed sleep descend on her as she closed her eyes. If I didn’t hurry, I wouldn’t be able to tell her the other half of my story. Still relieved she’d reacted well to being left here with a nurse, I continued on to the more exciting part of the news, for her anyway.
“Listen, Grandmother. There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“I’m sorry my dear, but can it wait? I’m very tired.”
I shook my head and reached towards her thigh, squeezing it a bit.
“No. It can’t.”
After another moment or so, my grandmother opened her eyes and nodded. “All right.”
I’d debated telling her about the possible cancer treatment coming out of the clinical trials. The truth was that even if she could be accepted on an experimental basis, it was still a long way off. However, I reasoned that if I at least told her about it, perhaps it would give her the motivation she needed to seek chemotherapy. If she could hold on for a little longer, there was a chance she might live long enough to become a candidate.
And so, after a deep breath, that’s exactly what I did. I told her everything I knew and what it would all mean to her. She listened intently for several minutes until after a final nod, she looked at me and spoke.
“Well, so what’s the difference between this treatment and everything else out there?”
“Good question, Grandmother,” I replied. “It’s a long explanation, but basically the treatment starves the cancer cells of the nutrients they need to survive and thrive. The best news of all is that it should pose no toxicity risk.”
“So, it’s not harmful to me, like the chemo?”
“It shouldn’t be. No.”
“I see.”
Reminding her, I continued, “But the thing is, we’re still a long way off from experimental trials, Grandmother. Even though you’d have an excellent chance to be a candidate, you still have to do chemotherapy to have any hope of living long enough.”
No sooner had I finished than she shook her head and dismissed my suggestion with a wave of her hand.
“That’s not living, Fiona. It’s a living death.”
I scooted closer to her. Taking her fingers in mine, I rubbed the back of her bony hand. “Grandmother, please. Just promise you’ll think about it.”
She looked at me without a word for a few seconds, until at last, she nodded.
“Okay dear, I’ll think about it. I promise.”
GABE
I loved being in St. Barths. Of course, I loved being in the office as well, but every so often it’s nice to get away for a bit. While this wasn’t just any ordinary getaway, a change of scenery was never a bad thing. The stakes were high for Fiona and frankly, even higher for me. To achieve the goals I’d set for her presentation and for our arrangement, I’d need to have her as relaxed as possible.
And so it was after breakfast on our first full day on the island, I stood out on a large veranda connected to the dining room overlooking a nearby bay. I’d gotten up before Fiona and already had my breakfast. I stood at the edge, leaning my hip against the hardness of the wood railing. I looked out over the blue water, already dotted with a handful of sailboats and a few local fisherman returning from their early morning catch.
Drawing my gaze upward, I noticed a handful of seagulls high above the shore. They circled, dove and climbed, harnessing the power of the updrafts from the ocean to levitate themselves like tiny kites. Distracted by the serenity of it all, I hadn’t heard her approach.
“Good morning,” Fiona said, as she came to a stop a few feet behind me.
The sun wasn’t yet up over the island’s eastern-most cliffs, so I had no need to shield my eyes from it. Instead, as I turned to look at Fiona, it was as if in some ways I saw her again for the first time. Warm orange streaks and soft pink hues draped across her milky-white complexion like watercolors over a blank canvas.
