Precedent: Book Three: Covenant of Trust Series (19 page)

Before he let go of her hands, she looked him in the eyes. “Chuck, I’m so sorry.”

“
What on earth for?”

“
This is going to be much harder on you than it is on me.”

* * *

Chuck hadn’t settled in the overstuffed waiting room chair before a nurse summoned them back to Dr. Karsten’s office. Bobbi walked a few steps ahead of him in the narrow hallway, her steps confident. The nurse opened a door for them. “He’ll be right in,” she said.

The office was smaller than Chuck expected, with only a desk, a table, a bookcase and a couple of extra chairs. One for the patient, and one for the husband. He followed Bobbi in, then tripped on his way to the chair next to hers. He sat down hard and mumbled, “The guy couldn’t get a bigger office?”

“
He’s probably never in it,” Bobbi said.

So it was like a movie set, a room just for delivering bad news. And he was going to sit here in this fake little room and hear this guy say the woman he loved had . . . cancer.

Chuck flinched when Dr. Karsten came in and Bobbi took his hand. Slightly built, the doctor hadn’t aged much since delivering Shannon, and still sported a trim mustache and goatee. He shook hands with Bobbi and Chuck and sat down, dropping a folder on his desk. He never smiled.

“
Bobbi, you have a small mass on the right side.” He pulled a sheet from the folder and turned it so Bobbi could see it. Chuck leaned over to see and tried to follow as the doctor pointed to shadows on scans, then drew circles and arrows and scribbled meaningless numbers in the margins. “With your history, I think we need to get a biopsy.”

“
It’s cancer.”

“
I don’t know for sure. We won’t know without more testing—”

“
I had some blood work about six weeks ago that showed an elevated white count. We attributed it to some other things and didn’t follow up on it. Is it related?”

He sat in silence for several minutes, staring at the folder in front of him, then he folded his hands. “I hate this part of my job,” he said quietly. “Can you go for a biopsy tomorrow?”

“
If you say so,” Bobbi answered.

“
Wait,” Chuck said. “Tomorrow? So you think it is cancer?”

“
Mr. Molinsky, everything changes when you give someone that diagnosis. I don’t want to be premature.”

“
Look, if you’re wrong, we’ll praise God for a miracle, but I need to know what I’m . . . I mean, we’re, what we’re up against.”

Dr. Karsten looked at Bobbi, then fixed his eyes on Chuck. “All right then, candidly speaking, I will be very surprised if it’s not cancer.”

* * *

Bobbi took his hand again before they left the doctor’s office, before he had a chance to wipe it on his slacks. “You want me to drive home?” she asked.

“
No. It’s just, he was right. Something changes once you hear a doctor say the word ‘cancer.’” He opened her car door, then closed it for her once she was inside. Everything changes. He rounded the car almost afraid to take his eyes off her. “I’m taking off tomorrow.”

“
For the biopsy? You don’t have to.”

“
Bobbi, honestly, it’s not just for your sake.”

She laid her hand, warm, soft, reassuring, on his. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“
You’ve never been threatened with death before.”

“
You’ll handle this, too. I promise.”

“
So can we tell the kids and Rita?”

“
I’d rather not.”

“
I can’t keep this a secret. We have to tell them.”

Bobbi sighed and turned away from him, gazing across the parking lot. “I don’t want everyone to make a big fuss. Can you at least tell them that much?”

“
Not fuss . . . ? Honey, your family loves you, and they’re going to want to be there for you.”

“
This is not going to make any sense to you, but right now, a lot of hovering will make things worse for me.” She squeezed his hand. “I need some space to sort all this out.”

Space he understood, but she was asking him for isolation.

* * *

Bobbi brewed a cup of Indonesian coffee and retreated to the solitude of the study. Chuck allowed that solitude only because she promised to call Rita. She closed her eyes and savored the warmth of the coffee as it diffused through her body. The biopsy tomorrow was a formality. She knew it was cancer. She could feel it. The risk, the fear had always been in the back of her mind, but after she passed fifty, she thought she had escaped.

So she hadn’t escaped, but coming on top of everything else, the diagnosis was robbed of its impact. Last year, it would have devastated them. But coming now—cancer? Of course. What else could it be?

Taking another drink to steel her nerves, she reached for the phone and dialed her sister’s number.

Rita answered on the second ring. “Hey, baby, how are you?”

“
I’m not sure.”

“
What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was no easy way. “I have a biopsy tomorrow. It will likely confirm that I have breast cancer.”

Not a sound.

“
Rita? Are you still there?”

“
I need to sit down,” she said weakly. “Give me a minute.”

“
Sure.”

“
Canc . . . How? I don’t understand.”

“
I know.”

“
Do you need me? I can be there in a couple of minutes.”

“
I should ask you the same question.”

“
Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t be much help. You’re sure about this? That it’s cancer?”

“
I’m sure.”

“
A lot has changed since Mama had it.”

“
I know.”

“
Have you told Joel and Jack?”

“
Chuck’s calling Joel, and we’ll tell Jack tonight when he gets home.”

“
Shannon. When word of this gets to Shannon . . . she’ll come home.”

Shannon wasn’t coming home. Bobbi didn’t have the energy for that kind of hope. “Listen, I want to keep this kind of quiet for now.”

“
I can’t tell anybody?”

“
Just family for now. Please?”

“
Afraid somebody’s going to pray for you? Is that it?” Rita asked bluntly.

“
What?”

“
You don’t want anybody to help you through this?”

“
You sound like Chuck.”

“
Baby, you’ve been through hard times before, and you know that cutting yourself off from everybody, especially your family, is not the answer. That’s what Daddy did, and that’s what brought you to a crisis point after Chuck’s affair.”

“
Rita—”

“
This is why you have a family. Is Chuck going with you tomorrow?”

“
Yes.”

“
When will you get the results back?”

“
I don’t know. A few days I guess.”

“
I’m making your dinner tomorrow. You can let me know if you want to eat at home or here with us.”

“
That’s not necessary.”

“
Yes, it is,” Rita said. “You don’t realize how much help you need right now.”

“
This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

“
Then I’m on the right track.”

* * *

Chuck collapsed on the sofa in the family room and rubbed his temples, trying in vain to make the pounding stop. Cancer. And she took the news like it was nothing more than having to wait for a table at Antonio’s. No big deal. Expected.

She sat two rooms away, processing the diagnosis on her own, leaving him with empty fear. He needed her strength, her calm. He needed her to explain where that resolve came from, and to describe how she was going to fight and win. He needed to feel that bond, that connection . . . but she needed space.

He reached for the phone and called Joel’s cell.

“
Dad, can you believe I am actually in my car, on my way home at four thirty? That’s almost like normal people hours.”

“
You’re driving right now? I want you to pull over for a minute.”

“
Dad, what’s wrong? Is it Shannon?”

“
No . . . just . . . please.”

“
All right, I’m in a parking lot. What is going on?”

“
Your mom’s having a biopsy tomorrow. The doctor’s fairly certain it’s breast cancer.”

“
Wha . . . ? Cancer? Mom?”

“
We just came from the doctor’s office.”

“
How is she?” Hardly anyone else would have caught the waver in Joel’s voice, but Chuck was fighting that same battle to maintain control.

“
Good. I mean, we’re trying to, uh, grasp it all. Mom . . . she wanted to keep this kind of quiet for now, just family.”

“
Why doesn’t she want anybody to know?”

“
She said it would make things harder for her, that she needed ‘space’ to deal with it.”

“
Space? She needs space? I don’t know if I’d give it to her. Listen to her closely over the next few weeks or so.”

“
Did anybody ever tell you that you were paranoid?”

“
All the time, but it’s not paranoia if you’re right.”

* * *

“
You want a cup of coffee?” Bobbi asked Jack, as she filled the pot with water. After enduring Chuck’s glances at her throughout dinner, she wanted to explain to Jack about the doctor’s appointment here in the kitchen, where it was safe and private. Chuck protested when she asked to do it alone, but she wanted to keep things low-key and not worry Jack. Chuck finally gave in.

“
Sure.” Jack slid into a kitchen chair. “Is it American?”

“
It’s Turkish, I think.” Bobbi turned the bag around to check. “Yep.”

“
Just about a half cup, then.”

“
Wimp,” Bobbi teased.

“
I know, I know. I’ve always been a mama’s boy.”

“
Those are the best kind.” Bobbi pushed the button on the coffeemaker and leaned against the counter. “Joel was a mama’s boy, too.”

“
Not Brad?”

“
No, Brad was Daddy’s boy from day one. We weren’t close until after the ServMed summer. When he was little, he would have gladly traded me for a puppy and not batted an eye.”

Jack leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest, arching his eyebrow in mock disbelief. “Mom . . .”

“
Listen, your dad was not the same man with you and Shannon as he was with Brad and Joel. With the boys, he was totally disengaged. I think it was his way of punishing me for staying home. Since I wanted to raise them, then I could have it. I had to be the enforcer.”

“
He never disciplined Brad and Joel?”

“
I didn’t say that. He’d lose his temper and lay down the rules, then I had to be the one to make sure the boys followed them. They never realized how hard I was working, trying to keep them out of trouble with him. I was the bad guy all the time.”

“
Moms get a bum rap that way.”

“
Yes, don’t do that to your wife.”

“
I won’t.” Jack put his left hand on his heart and raised his right hand. “Promise.”

The coffeemaker hissed as it finished, so Bobbi poured a cup for herself, and a half cup for Jack, then took a seat across the table from him. She stared at the reflection of the overhead light on the shiny black surface of the coffee.

“
You might as well tell me,” Jack said quietly.

She managed the slightest smile before she raised her eyes to his. “I had a doctor’s appointment today.”

“
This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“
Maybe. My doctor thinks I may have breast cancer, and he’s sending me for a biopsy.”

“
It’s bad,” Jack said softly.

For just a split second, Bobbi pictured the six-year-old Jack saying those words, with his knees drawn tightly to his body. “So what’s going to happen?”

“
I’ll have the test. It will confirm the diagnosis, then they’ll probably want me to see an oncologist.”

“
Are you going to have to have chemotherapy and all that?”

“
I don’t know yet.” She took a long sip. So far he was taking the news better than any of them.

“
This is survivable, isn’t it?”

“
It can be, yes.”

“
So this is just something else we have to go through?”

“
Apparently.”

“
It doesn’t seem fair,” Jack said.

“
Fair” left a long time ago . . .

* * *

Jack lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. Cancer. His mom had cancer. He lost his brother, his sister left and now his mother had cancer. Or could have. It wasn’t absolutely certain. His mom was extraordinarily calm, so he wouldn’t worry either. Brad wouldn’t worry. He was cool, with rock solid faith, just like his mother.

She had to come through this. Brad would say it meant God was gonna do something miraculous, giving them all some amazing story to tell about how He worked on their behalf. That had to be it. He couldn’t let his mind even drift toward the alternative. He couldn’t lose his mother again.