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Tully had to concentrate on each breath to remain upright. "Shell have a mastectomy and get radiation and chemotherapy, right? I have several friends who have fought—"
"Shes already had all of that," he said gently.
"What? When?"
"She called you several months ago," he said, and this time his voice had an edge shed never heard before. "She wanted to have you at the hospital with her. You didnt return her call. "
Tully remembered the message, word for word. I cant believe you havent called to apologize to me. Tully? Are you listening to this? Tully? And the click. Had something happened to the rest of the message? Had the power gone out or the tape hit its end?
"She didnt say anything about being sick," Tully said.
"She called," Mrs. M. said.
Tully felt tackled by guilt, overcome. She should have sensed something was wrong. Why hadnt she just picked up the phone? Now all that time had been lost. "Oh, my God. I should have—"
"None of that matters now," Mrs. M. said.
Johnny nodded and went on. "The cancer has metastasized. Last night she had a minor stroke. They got her into the OR as quickly as possible, but once they were inside, they saw there was nothing they could do. " His voice broke.
Mrs. M. laid her hand on his. "The cancer is in her brain now. "
Tully thought she had known fear before—like on that Seattle street when she was ten years old, or when Katie had had her miscarriage, or when Johnny had been hurt in Iraq—but nothing had felt like this. "Are you saying . . . "
"Shes dying," Mrs. M. said quietly.
Tully shook her head, unable to think of what to say. "W-where is she?" The question came out sounding choppy and broken. "I need to see her. "
A look passed between Johnny and Mrs. M.
"What?" Tully said.
"Theyre only allowing one person in at a time," Mrs. M. said. "Bud is in there now. Ill go get him. "
As soon as Mrs. M. left, Johnny moved even closer, said, "Shes fragile right now, Tul. Her faculties have been impacted by the cancer in her brain. She has good moments . . . and not-so-good moments. "
"What are you saying?" Tully asked.
"She might not know who you are. "
The walk to Kates room was the longest journey of Tullys life. She felt people all around her, talking quietly among themselves, but never had she felt more alone. Johnny led her to a doorway and stopped there.
Tully nodded, trying to gather strength as she walked into the room.
Closing the door behind her, she reached for a smile, found one that was the best she could do under the circumstances, and went toward the bed, where her friend lay sleeping.
Angled up to a near-sit, Kate looked like a broken doll against the stark white sheets and piled pillows. She had no hair or eyebrows left, and her bald head was a pale oval that nearly disappeared against the pillowcase.
"Kate?" Tully said quietly, moving forward. The moment she heard her voice she winced. It sounded too loud in this room, too alive somehow.
Kate opened her eyes, and there was the woman Tully knew, the girl shed sworn to be best friends with forever.
Put your arms out, Katie. Its like flying.
How had it happened, after all their decades together, that they were estranged now? "Im sorry, Katie," she whispered, hearing how small the words were; all her life shed hoarded those few and simple words, kept them tucked inside her heart as if to let them out would harm her. Why, of all the lessons she should have learned from her mother, had she held on to this most hurtful one? And why hadnt she called when shed heard Kates voice on the answering machine?
"Im so sorry," she said again, feeling the burn of tears.
Kate didnt smile or give any indication of welcome or surprise. Even the apology—as little and late as it was—seemed to have no effect. "Please say you remember me. "
