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I sobered a little, thinking about those test results that I still had to share with them. It was such a pleasant evening that I didn't want to spoil it. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt, like I was there for just a social visit rather than for an appointment. I had to get it over with.
“About those test results,” I began, as Jeannie brought out slices of rich pound cake for dessert. Just like that, the good mood shattered: all three of us now wore matching frowns. I sighed and forged ahead. “Unfortunately, the cancer is progressing,” I told them. “It's still early enough that we have plenty of treatment options. But we need to act fast before it can spread any further.”
Jeannie waved a hand, trying for a smile. “Come now, Dr. Jones. We're having a pleasant evening; let's not spoil it with that kind of talk.”
I frowned. “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Sable, but the whole reason I'm here is so that I can talk to the two of you about these results,” I reminded her. “Now, I know that last time I saw you, we were concerned that some of your levels were off, but this time, it's looking like something is really, seriously wrong. Now, I can get you started on chemotherapy treatments, but you'll probably need Olivia to drive you to and from those appointments, which is why I wanted—”
Jeannie stood up, interrupting me by noisily beginning to clear the plates off the table.
“Olivia, talk to your mom,” I pleaded. “She needs to hear this; you know she does. Like I said, we need to get acting on this sooner, rather than later.”
Olivia shook her head, her sad eyes watching her mom move around the table. “I have to let Mom deal with this the way she chooses,” the woman said softly.
I barely bit back some insensitive words about Olivia pretty much allowing her mother to die. With Emily, we'd found the cancer too late for treatments to be effective. With Jeannie, we still had a fighting chance. But neither of the women seemed to realize what a big deal that was.
I got to my feet, following Jeannie as she headed toward the kitchen. “You can't just ignore this,” I told her.
Olivia caught my arm, though. “Wait,” she said softly, and something in the way she looked at me gave me pause. Olivia sighed, and her hand dropped off my arm. “Give me a little time,” she said. “To adjust, to try to talk to her.” She gave me a small smile. “As you can see, confrontation is not the best approach with my mother.”
I sighed and ran a hand back through my brown hair. “There isn't much time to delay,” I told her.
“I understand that,” Olivia murmured. “But if you badger her over this and make her shut her ears, she's never going to listen to you. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
I was momentarily distracted by the way she bit her lower lip; it took me a second to drag my eyes back to hers. “I won't bother leaving the test results with you because I know they're gibberish if you don't know what you're looking at. But if you want to come into my office at any point to talk to me, just give me a call. You have my number because of the daycare stuff.” I paused. “Better yet, if you could have your mom come into my office sometime this week, I'd appreciate it.”
“I can certainly try,” Olivia said.
I frowned, wanting to urge her to do something more than try. But I checked myself at the last moment. I could see in her eyes that she knew how serious this was. There was nothing more that I could say to her. “I wish I had better news,” I said softly.
Olivia put on a brave face. “But there's still time,” she said firmly. “That's the important thing.”
“That's the important thing,” I echoed, thinking again about Emily.
“For now, it's getting late,” Olivia said. “Thank you for coming by for dinner, and I'll see you tomorrow morning at the daycare.”
I nodded my head and impulsively pulled her into a quick hug. Her small frame was warm in my arms, and I could feel how stiff and anxious she was. I wanted, I realized, to lay her down and massage her shoulders until she was able to relax a little.
I shook the thought away and quickly released her, feeling embarrassed. But Olivia, despite the faint blush staining her cheeks, looked pleased by the gesture. “I'll see you tomorrow,” she repeated softly.
“I'll see you tomorrow,” I agreed.
I couldn't stop thinking about that hug for the rest of the night. The way her curves had pressed up against me, the way she'd splayed her fingers across my back. I felt horrible for thinking about her like that, with everything that was going on with her mother.
But that's not the real reason you feel guilty, my brain reminded me, as I went into Emma's room to check on the sleeping toddler. I shouldn't be thinking about anyone like this, not so soon after Emily's death. Not when I am still grieving that loss. I was ashamed that I found myself even considering what it would be like to take Olivia out on a date, to have a proper dinner, just her and I.
It had been two years, but I had promised Emily that she'd be my only love, for the rest of my life.
I shook my head and tried to force the thoughts out of my head so that I could sleep. But even when I finally managed to sleep, I was plagued by uneasy dreams.
Chapter Four
Olivia
Friday was long, and the closer it got to the time when Eric had arranged to pick up Emma, the slower time seemed to go. It felt like I was checking the clock every couple of minutes for the last hour, willing him to show up even a little early. If I'd thought Emma had been bratty her first day in the daycare, it was nothing compared to how she had acted today.
I sighed at the trail of destruction she'd left in her wake: a broken chair, paint stains on my favorite rug, bruises on my shins from where she'd kicked me. I didn't know what she was so upset about, but whatever it was, I hoped it was resolved by Monday because the thought of another day like this made me want to cry.
Of course, it wasn't just Emma's antics that were pushing tears into my eyes.
