Promises to Keep (22 page)

C
allie sinks back on her hospital bed and watches blankly as the nurse inserts the IV. Once upon a time she was frightened of needles, of nurses, of medical procedures such as this. Once upon a time the thought of having an IV—something alien permanently in her body—would have made her feel ill.

But the months of chemo five years ago have made her immune, and now she is just grateful that Mark is keeping her in to try to find out what is wrong.

The good news: the scans do not show cancer. Nothing in her breast, and no metastases that are detectable. Lymph nodes, bone, brain: all clear.

The bad news: they do not know what it is, but it clearly is something. An infection of some kind, perhaps? Meningitis? A staph infection? Bacteremia? They do not know, but they are putting her on antibiotics, steroids and a narcotic pain reliever to be on the safe side.

Reece sits in the corner, his face as serious as Callie has ever seen it. She looks up at him beseechingly as the small plastic tube is taped to her arm, and he stands up and quickly comes to her side, sitting on the bed and taking her other hand, stroking it gently.

“How are you doing, Loki?” he whispers.

“Okay,” she says, attempting a smile.

“You’re going to feel a whole lot better soon,” the nurse says cheerfully as she adjusts the bag. “The Dilaudid will kick in and the pain will go away, and there are all kinds of other good things in here to make you better. You’ll start to feel sleepy, but the sleep is good; that’s how your body heals itself.”

Callie, in too much pain to move her head, rolls her eyes up to look at her, suddenly seeming so like Eliza that it makes Reece’s heart want to break.

“Really?” she says. “What’s going in?”

“The Dilaudid, the Decadron, which are the steroids, and then some regular old antibiotics in case it’s an infection.”

“And Mark—Dr. Ferber—said that both the steroids and antibiotics are precautionary, right?”

“That’s right.” The nurse nods. “Better to be safe than sorry. He’ll be in soon. I’m going to call him now and have him check in on you.’

“Thank you.” Reece looks at her gratefully as she goes out of the room.

 

“Don’t look so worried.” Callie smiles. “I’m going to be okay. And honestly? I’m happy they admitted me. I’m just . . . relieved they can make the pain go away.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad,” Reece says. For Callie has been insisting she’s been okay during each of these headaches, but earlier, when they asked her to number the pain on a scale of one to ten, she gave it a seven, which for Callie, who does not complain, is about as bad as it gets.

Callie says nothing.

“I hate this,” Reece says suddenly.

“What?”

“This. That you’re here. I just can’t believe we’re back in this fucking hospital, and in the cancer ward too.”

“Shh.” Callie reaches up her arms and draws Reece down for a hug. “Mark said we ought to be on the cancer ward only because he’s here all the time and can keep a proper eye on me. It doesn’t mean anything. And I know you’re scared, but I’m not going anywhere, I promise. They’ll do some more tests, they’ll find out what it is, and they’ll treat it and I’ll come home, okay?” She pushes Reece back so she can look him in the eye.

“I’m not ready to go anywhere, you hear? I have you, Eliza and Jack, and you all need me. This is just a temporary blip.”

Reece smiles though his eyes are watery. “A bump in the road?”

“Exactly,” Callie says. “Just like before. Another fucking bump in the road.”

The door opens and they both look over, expecting to see Mark, but it is Lila standing there, laden down with bags.

“Jesus!” Lila marches in. “Could you have picked a room that was any farther from the elevator?” She dumps the bags and walks over to the bed. Reece gets up and moves back to the chair, making room for Lila to sit in his place. She sits, takes Callie’s hand and leans over, kissing her gently.

“How are you, sweetie?” Her voice is low as she strokes Callie’s cheek softly.

“I’ve been better,” Callie says. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”

“When my best friend is in the hospital with some mysterious ailment? Not on your life. It’s not exactly as if they’re breaking down the door to use me. Great timing. I leave my job, albeit with a massive payout, and the world decides to collapse. Typical goddamned Lila.”

Callie smiles as Lila talks.

“Anyway, I’ve brought a few things,” she says, glancing around the room, “to make this room look a little better. Nothing worse than a hospital room.”

Reaching down, she starts pulling things out of her bag. First a series of framed photographs—Callie and Reece, Callie and the kids, Elizabeth the dog, Callie, Steffi and Lila on vacation in Mexico, many moons ago.

Callie, starting to feel sleepy, closes her eyes briefly as Lila places them on the windowsill, resting against the slatted blinds.

“What else?” she whispers.

“Supersoft blanket.” Lila shakes out a pale pink blanket, as soft as feathers, and lays it on top of the hospital-issue blanket. Callie sighs with delight.

“Peanut M&M’s for when the cravings strike.”

“My favorite!”

“I know! A stack of magazines in case you feel up to reading, and an iPod loaded with audiobooks in case you don’t.”

“You brought me an iPod?” Callie’s eyes are starting to close. “Oh God. I feel stoned. I feel like I’m drifting away.”

Reece grins. “You’re supposed to. That’s what the nurse said would happen. How’s the pain?”

“Better,” Callie murmurs.

“On a scale of one to ten?” He is already adopting the hospital lingo.

“Four,” she mutters. Her eyes close, her mouth falls slightly open and she is fast asleep.

Lila doesn’t move. She sits, watching her friend, still holding her hand, stroking it back and forth with her thumb. After a while she lets go, folding Callie’s hand gently on the blanket.

When she turns to Reece she is dripping tears, and when he stands to comfort her Lila dissolves into quiet, hiccuping sobs in his arms.

 

Driving home, her mind full of Callie, Lila wonders whether to tell Callie’s friends, the ones who see her every day: Betsy, Laura, Sue, Lisa.

She picks up her BlackBerry at a red light and hits the address book, about to call, but then she thinks: no. Not until Callie has said it’s okay. For while Callie is open, has no secrets from her friends, she has not told anyone quite how bad these headaches are, and perhaps she doesn’t want everyone to know.

Not yet.

Back home in Rowayton, she expects to see Ed’s Volvo in the driveway, but he is not there, which is no bad thing. She wants to talk to him, be comforted by him, tell him how scared she is, but first she wants to regroup: pour a glass of wine, light candles, take some deep breaths and try to center herself.

Her phone rings as she walks in the house.

“Hi, darling.” Ed’s warm voice instantly makes her feel better, and suddenly, more than wanting to regroup, drink wine, gather her thoughts, she wants Ed’s arms around her, wants to bury her head in his shoulder and not think about anything at all.

“Hey.” Her voice is sad.

“How is she?”

“She’s . . . I don’t know. It’s scary. They don’t know what’s wrong, but the good news is, it’s not cancer.”

“That’s not just good, that’s great, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I mean, of course. It’s just that she looks so frail. She looks ill.”

“But she’s in the best possible place, with a doctor who knows her well. Do you want me to make some calls?”

Oh bless him, thinks Lila. As a journalist he has contacts in every walk of life, and as a thoroughly good, likable man his contacts often become friends, and when anyone needs help, Ed always knows the right person to ask.

“No, sweetie. Let’s figure out what it is first, then you can pull in some favors.”

“How are the kids?”

“Eliza and Jack? They’re fine. Why would they be anything otherwise? They don’t even really know, other than that Mommy’s not well. Honor’s there, and Reece left the hospital and went straight home. I think they’re fine.”

“And Reece?”

“Reece is scared too. He would never say it, but I can tell. Hey, how come you’re calling me anyway? You’re supposed to be home by now.”

“Well -”

Before he says anything, Lila feels herself tense. These conversations always start in the same way. Ed has to let her down because Mindy is demanding he do something with Clay. She forces Ed to make the choice, more and more often it seems, now that he and Lila are so serious: Lila or Clay? And she knows that his guilt over the divorce, over not being a father who can be present 100 percent of the time, will always have him choose Clay.

“Good Lord, what does she want
now
?” Lila interjects, wishing she could keep the irritation out of her voice.

“It’s not her,” Ed warns. “It’s Clay. He has a sore throat and he said he wants to be with me. I can’t say no when he’s sick.”

Lila takes some deep breaths. Don’t explode, she thinks to herself. Don’t explode.

“But . . . we were going to have a quiet night tonight, just us. You and me,” she says. “Did you even speak to Clay?”

There is a pause. “No, but that’s not the point.”

“Of course it’s the point. Mindy always does this when she has a date. She comes up with some reason why you need to take Clay and you always say yes.”

“Lila, relax!” Ed soothes. “It isn’t nearly as menacing as you think. You always assume the worst . . .”

“I’m not assuming the worst.” Lila feels the tears rise. “I just sometimes need to have some alone time with you, and tonight, of all nights, was one of those times. If Clay wants to come out here that’s fine, I love having him here, but you can’t leave me to go and stay in the city with him, that’s just not acceptable.”

“Lila, I—”

“No, wait.” Her voice is now calm. “My best friend has been admitted to the hospital today and they don’t know what’s wrong with her, and I’m scared, okay? I’m terrified. And I need you tonight. I need you here with me. Not on the phone, but here. With me. I was going to make dinner, and I just needed us to sit quietly and process this. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

“Okay,” Ed says quietly. “I hadn’t called Mindy back. I’ll tell her it’s impossible. I’m sorry. I do completely understand what you’re saying. Maybe she will let him come out here and stay with us tonight, even though it’s a school night. I’m sorry, baby. It’s just hard for me to say no to my son.”

“It’s not your son you’re saying no to.” Lila sighs. “It’s your ex-wife.”

H
onor places the phone back in its cradle and checks her watch. She left Callie at the hospital in order to come home and babysit the children. She knows she has just told Reece she would look after the kids, but how can she look after them when her daughter is in the hospital and all she can think about is whether Callie will be okay?

How can she be present for these children, explain why Mommy didn’t meet the school bus as she does every day after school, when her daughter is sleeping, knocked out by one of the heaviest narcotics available, and the doctors don’t know what is wrong with her?

She desperately wishes that it was possible for Lila to come tonight so that she could go back to the hospital. It is a waiting game, and she knows she cannot do anything more at the hospital, but today, the first day Callie is there, Honor needs to be with her. This, after all, is what mothers do.

She goes into the bathroom and stares at herself in the mirror. All of a sudden, she thinks, she looks old. Gray skin, deep hollow shadows under her eyes. Her entire face seems to have fallen overnight.

She turns on the tap, waits for the water to become icy cold, then splashes her face with it in an attempt to wake herself up, tighten her skin, make herself look better.

And when she has finished she looks at herself in the mirror again, and sighs, because she still looks like a woman twenty years her senior.