I push myself up to stand, take one last look at the door separating us, and walk away without a fight. The suite’s minibar doesn’t hold enough booze to take the edge off what I’m feeling, so I take a detour toward the main bar in the hotel lobby.
Vacationers party all around me as I take a seat at the bar, but their smiles only piss me off. When the bartender approaches me, I order bourbon and tell him to keep them coming. My plan is to numb every inch of myself, including my mind, rather than going to the black places it usually takes me. If the hotel staff has to pour me into my bed when they shut down the bar before dawn, so be it.
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and my first thought is Kevin is looking for me. I’m sure Daisy has already called Tracy to replay my every word for her best friend. Since I haven’t checked on my business since the day I arrived on the island, I decide it’s probably best to check the alert before I’m too hammered to understand the words. But when I glance at the screen, I realize it’s not a text message at all.
It’s an alert about an unheard voicemail from my home line. Before I left for vacation, I forwarded voicemails from my office phone and my home landline to my cell, knowing my executive assistant wouldn’t contact me, even for urgent issues, while I was out of the country. She was too adamant I enjoy my first vacation in forever without the hassles of working that remotely. If someone got past her to my voicemail, the issue must be escalated and need my attention.
As I dial into the digital voicemail system, my mind is on all the possible problems that could’ve erupted since I’ve been away. A breach of contract? A client who missed their payment? A specialized software program malfunctioning? I’m so lost in thought I almost miss the computerized voice saying I have no new messages on my work number. Finding that odd, I disconnect and check my home voicemail instead. A couple of my largest clients have my home number, so it’s feasible they would’ve contacted me there if my assistant thwarted their attempts to reach me at the office.
The voicemail on my home phone is for my sister, Juliana … and the message makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. My free hand grips the edge of the bar to keep me steady on the stool. The room spins around me as if it’s a merry-go-round competing on the NASCAR circuit. I drop my cell on the counter and stare at my glass, trying to focus on a single object until I can calm my racing heart.
The words replay on a continuous loop in my mind.
“Hi, Juliana. This is Claire, reminding you of your appointment tomorrow at one o’clock with Dr. Tomey. If you have any questions, give me a call back.”
I know who Dr. Tomey is. He’s a medical oncologist. There’s only one reason she’d have an appointment with him.
Her cancer has returned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rod
It took an inordinate amount of finagling, but I eventually got on an evening flight back to Atlanta. Even though I won’t make it home until the early morning hours, at least I feel as though I’m doing something rather than just sitting in my room, waiting with my bags packed. I didn’t call Juliana before I left. The conversation about her diagnosis and prognosis requires a face-to-face, sit down, come to Rod meeting.
Somehow, I did remember to send Kevin a quick text to let him know I was leaving early, so he doesn’t waste his time looking for me. But I didn’t say anything about why in the message. For one, Juliana’s medical status isn’t mine to tell. But even if she’s okay with sharing the details, I don’t have any to give and Kevin would have questions. He’s known Juliana almost as long as he’s known me, and he’s always considered her as his little sister too. I’ll fill him in when he returns from the Caribbean and his life returns to normal.
The flights and layovers felt as if they took forever, but I finally pull into my tree-lined drive just as the sun peeks over the horizon. I don’t bother with any luggage when I jump out of the car and rush inside. Juliana will be up soon, and I want to be parked at the kitchen table with a tall mug of piping hot coffee in my hand when she comes downstairs.
Once the coffee is ready, I don’t have to wait long for her to come flying around the corner, expecting to see Louise, my house staff manager, in the kitchen. She screams when she sees me instead.
“Rod! What the hell are you doing home so early? You scared the shit out of me.” She puts her hand over her heart and huffs loudly.
“You know, I had the same reaction when my phone alerted me to a voicemail … and I heard the oncology center confirming your appointment for today. Is there something you forgot to tell me? Because I’m fairly certain I would’ve remembered that minor detail.”
She at least has the decency to appear uncomfortable about withholding vital information from me. “I may have neglected to mention a detail or two. Yes, it’s back, but I don’t have time to go into all the details right now. Isabelle will be down in a minute for breakfast. Can we talk about this later?”
“If you promise we’ll have a very long talk and you’ll tell me every single detail.”
“I promise. Actually, I’m glad you’re here now. Can Isabelle stay with you after school today? They only have a half day of class today.”
“Of course. You know I never turn down time with my best girl.”
“Thank you. I’ll drop
