Chapter Three
The transport van no longer hit potholes, not because the driver’s abilities had improved, but because they’d come to a standstill in the rush-hour traffic.
Hayden broke the silence. “Kathleen, do you remember that summer I was fifteen and tried to dye my own hair?”
“I don’t remember your hair being anything but brown,” Brian said.
“It was purple.” Hayden cringed. “I thought it would look cool, but I ended up looking like that girl in Willy Wonka who’d tried his gum, which turned her into a big grape, or blueberry, or whatever it was.”
“That bad?” Brian asked.
“Worse,” Kathleen and Hayden said in unison.
“You didn’t laugh or yell, Kathleen. You jumped on the phone and got us into that ritzy salon.”
“Dorian’s Day Spa.”
“That was the day I learned to appreciate being a girl and getting pampered.” She turned to Brian. “While we waited for their treatments to turn my hair a more normal color, your mom arranged for us to have pedicures and manicures.”
Kathleen laughed and looked at Brian. “She got her fingernails painted purple, saying if they couldn’t get the dye out of her hair, at least she’d coordinate. And if they did make her hair brown again, her purple nails would be a reminder to leave the hair dyes to the professionals.”
Brian studied Hayden, as if trying to imagine her with purple hair. She knew the minute he managed it, because he grimaced.
“The salon must have done the job right, because I don’t remember any pictures of you with purple hair.”
“There was a faint violet color left, but it was actually attractive,” Kathleen said.
“We had monthly spa days after that. Your mom said it was so we could bond, but I think she just wanted to be sure I didn’t try to dye my own hair again.”
Kathleen grinned. “You liked going to the salon, unlike Brian, who used to act like every trip to the barbershop was torture.”
“It was. Barbers and baths are the horror of every young boy.” He paused a moment, and added, “Thankfully, we get over the bathing phobia about the same time we discover girls, but haircuts are still a waste of time. And I never did understand men who not only styled their hair, but used product in it. That’s not natural.”
Hayden laughed. “Oh, come on.”
“Well, let’s just say I was glad Mom had you to drag to that kind of stuff because I can assure you, Mom, as much as I love you, real men don’t do pedicures.”
The driver interrupted their laughter. “This is going to take a while longer.”
Kathleen startled at the sound of his voice, and her quick movement sent a flicker of pain flashing across her face.
“Kathleen, can I do something?” Hayden rose.
She shooed Hayden back into her seat. “I’m fine. I missed those monthly trips when you went away to college. No more spending our Saturday mornings cleaning, so we could spend the afternoon at the mall guilt free.”
“No more chick-flick Fridays,” Hayden said. “With Tommy’s pizza and pepperoni balls. You can’t get pepperoni balls in Philadelphia. And they call Italian Ice, Water Ice. I always thought that was redundant.”
Hayden’s first year of college, across the state at Temple University in Philadelphia, was an adjustment. Her homesickness had almost made her decide to transfer to something closer. But then she’d hit her stride her sophomore year and remembered the last three years of college as a freeing time. “College was so different. Suddenly I wasn’t the MacNulty girl. I wasn’t the girl the Conways took in. I was simply Hayden MacNulty.”
She’d left the baggage that was her heritage behind her in Pittsburgh. In Philadelphia, Hayden finally found herself.
She thought she’d gotten over the past, that she’d put Cootie behind her. That she’d outgrown her childhood crush on Brian. But some things you just can’t forget.
There was one night in particular …
May 1989
“Brian,” Hayden called, waving her hands wildly as he parallel parked his car into the small space on the street in front of her apartment.
It was May, but already hot in Philadelphia. The semester was winding down, but Temple University’s Philadelphia campus was still filled with the hustle and bustle of its students, many of whom were watching Hayden perform her absurd dance, waving, jumping up and down as Brian turned off the ignition to the car.
She knew she looked like a crazy person, but she didn’t care. Brian was here and she thought she’d practically burst with happiness. She’d promised herself she’d get over her crush on him, and she had. Oh, that first Christmas when they’d both come home to Kathleen’s, she’d felt awkward, but then he’d thrown a snowball at her, and suddenly, he was just Brian again.
The last four years they’d managed to see each other during the holidays at Kathleen’s, but that was about it. And this year, he couldn’t make it to the house on Briar Hill Road while Hayden was there, so she hadn’t even seen him then. They did talk every few weeks, but that wasn’t the same.
Last week, he’d called and said he was going to be in Philadelphia on business, that if she had time, he’d like to come visit her and catch up. She’d been soaring ever since.
She started to throw herself into his arms, like she once would have, but stopped short of it.
“Hey, kid.” He didn’t seem to notice her hesitation to hug him as he stepped back and looked her up and down. “Mom’s right, you’re too thin.”
“You try eating at the cafeteria. That freshman twenty is a myth that was started by and perpetuated by school administrators, hoping kids would come for the good food. And I’ve been eating it for four years, although I’ve noticed that the meal quality goes way up on the days we have potential freshman on campus.”
He laughed. “You can try to be a cynic, but I’m not buying it.”
“Rats. I thought I’d perfected that whole senior sneer thing.” She tried to look disgruntled, but couldn’t quite pull it off.
Brian smiled, and she couldn’t help notice how his dark hair looked good against his California tan. “Yeah, you don’t have the jaded twenty-two-year-old thing down yet.”
“And those extra four years you have on me mean you have the whole cynic thing down? Come on, I’ve heard you talk about your kids at the center. You give optimists a bad name.”
“So are we going to stand in the middle of downtown Philly arguing about who’s more cynical?”
“No. This way, I’ll give you the tour. Bring your bag. My roommate’s in Spain this semester, so the apartment’s all mine, which means you even get a room with a bed, instead of the couch. She’s into the color pink, but I suspect your manly ego can handle girly bubble-gum-colored sheets on the bed.”
“Are you sure I’m not imposing?”
“Are you telling me you can’t handle pink sheets?” He tilted his chin up and scoffed, which caused her to laugh. “I told you on the phone I was sure. You’re always welcome, even if it’s only to the couch. Hurry up.” They walked across the street to her apartment complex. Temple had bought a number of old properties and turned them into apartments for their older students. She loved having her own space.
“Oh, I meant to tell you first thing, I got that job.”
Hayden had spent the last three summers interning at a children’s hospital not far from the university. They’d offered her a permanent job starting in June.
“Mom told me. She’s practically bursting with pride.” There was something not quite right in his tone.
She really looked at Brian and noticed fine lines around his eyes that spoke of worry, or pain. She stopped, bag in hand still and waited for him to stop walking, as well, before asking, “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Fine, just fine,” he assured her, but she wasn’t buying it.
She’d spent too many years watching Kathleen to try and ferret out what was wrong with him with an all-out frontal attack. She’d learned a bit of subtlety and would bide her time. But one way or another, she’d discover what was weighing on Brian before he left.
She got him settled in her apartment, then they spent the rest of that day playing tourist. She took him around Philadelphia’s historic district, somewhere she rarely went herself. They went to see the Liberty Bell, to the Mutter’s Museum and walked through a park.
“So, dinner at my place?” she asked outside Betsy Ross’s house. “Although, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat after seeing that freakishly huge colon at the museum. I mean, I honestly think I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing that one.”
Brian laughed. “You’re going to be a registered nurse in just a few weeks and have spent all your time working at a hospital, and you’re telling me that a colon freaked you out?”
“Yes. That’s why I have no desire to be a surgical nurse. It’s good to recognize your limitations.”
“As long as you don’t let perceived limitations stop you from doing things you’d love.”
She kept their conversation light as they picked up some Philly-cheese-steak sandwiches and a six pack, then carried it all back to her place.
She loved this little apartment so much. The chair she and Clair had bought from a secondhand store, the bright blue curtains. The pictures from magazines that they’d framed to decorate the walls. The beat up hope chest they used as a coffee table. She dropped their sandwiches on it. “Come on, dig in.”
Hayden hadn’t laughed so much in forever as Brian regaled her with tales from the front. He was working with Save Our Children, a grassroots operation designed to overhaul California’s children’s service system. Hayden knew he dealt with serious situations, but tonight he concentrated on office minutia. Who was with who, doing what and when. Funny and entertaining stories that gave her a glimpse of his life.
And though she laughed, she recognized that he was trying too hard.
“Brian, what is it?” she finally asked again, after they’d eaten their sandwiches and had a couple beers under their respective belts.
He paused a moment, looking off into space and she wondered if he was finally going to tell her what was bothering him.
“I had a new case come over my desk the week before I left. A little girl whose parents lost custody of her. She ended up in a foster family who wasn’t much better. They didn’t abuse her, but they neglected her. She reminded me—”
He paused.
“Of me,” she filled in softly. “My parents never abused me outright, but they didn’t care. Then I found you and Kathleen. But not every kid’s so lucky. And on top of your job at Save Our Children, you’ve worked so hard to get the teen center off the ground. I’m so proud of what you do.”
He looked uncomfortable with the praise. “Thanks. That means a lot. And I guess this is my chance to say ditto. Mom and I are both proud of you. And having you follow in her footsteps and become a nurse means a lot. She—” He stopped and seemed to drift away.
“What? I know you’ve been avoiding something, something that’s tearing at you. Tell me.”
“She didn’t want you to know.”
“What’s wrong? You haven’t told me exactly why you’re here.” He’d made vague noises about business meetings, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out business wasn’t his only reason for visiting her. “What’s wrong?”
“She didn’t want you to know,” he repeated. “She’s so proud of your job offer here, and wants you to take it. She was afraid you wouldn’t if you knew.”
“Knew what, dammit?” Acid burned in her stomach and she suddenly felt cold, bone cold, despite the warm May night.
“Hayden, Mom’s got breast cancer. They found it last week. She’s having a lumpectomy on Monday. She wants to be on her feet for your graduation.”
“She’ll have chemo and radiation then?”
“They’ll have a more definitive idea of what treatments she’ll go through, how much and when they’ll do it, after she’s had the surgery and the doctors can see if the cancer’s invaded her lymph nodes.”
“I—”
Hayden thought she knew what pain was, but this news cut to some previously unknown depth. She felt the tears fill her eyes, and she blinked rapidly not letting them fall but knowing she wasn’t hiding anything from Brian. “What’s her prognosis?”
“She said the doctor refused to even guess until after the surgery. Maybe that’s it, or maybe he did tell her and it’s bad, so she’s not saying because she doesn’t want to worry me.”
“Like she didn’t want to worry me.”
He nodded. “She wants you to enjoy your graduation. Wants you to take this job and …” The sentence trailed off. “Hell, Hayden, she wants you to have the whole world. Just like she wants that for me. She was pissed when she found out I was interviewing for jobs here in Pennsylvania. I think I have the one in Pittsburgh, but I’ve got three other interviews, as well. Philly’s five hours away, but it’s closer than California.”
“Maybe I should do the same. There are certainly enough hospitals in the Pittsburgh area that I should be able to land something.” The moment Hayden said the words, she knew that’s exactly what she would do. “I won’t let her know you told me.”
“She’ll know.”
“Fine, then she’ll know. She’ll be mad at you, not me.” She tried to force a laugh, but it rang hollow to her ears. “Bri, we can’t lose her.”
She felt the cold deepen. It reached to her very core. Freezing. If she were this cold, she should be numb, but she wasn’t. She felt every single stab of worry that pulsed through her icy bloodstream. “We can’t lose her,” she repeated.
“We won’t. You know how strong she is.” He brushed her cheek with his fingertip. “Hey, it will be okay.”
“Nothing’s going to be okay until I hear she’s well. Until she gets an all clear. I can’t lose her.” If she said it often enough, with enough force and conviction, maybe it would come true. Losing Kathleen just couldn’t be possible. She wouldn’t let it happen.
Brian pulled Hayden close, and held her as they huddled together on the worn brown couch. She welcomed his warmth. Needed it more than she’d ever needed anything.
He kissed her forehead. She looked up and saw in his eyes as comfort turned to something more. A need that grew. There was nothing platonic about their embrace. It was something so basic and raw that it took Hayden’s breath away.
They didn’t say a word as the touches they exchanged became more and more intimate. It was as if words would break the magic of the moment, intrude on a union that somewhere in the back of her mind Hayden had always known had to happen.
They made their way into her room and as if by one accord, they undressed each other and crawled into her small twin bed. They held each other, and slowly they made love, learning each other’s body, discovering just how to please.
Afterward, they clung to one another. Brian’s gentleness quieted the fear that continued to pulse through her system. The fear of a world without Kathleen. For now she could tamp it down, the wonder of this joining overshadowing it, even if their intimacy couldn’t obliterate it entirely.
She’d loved Brian in so many ways. Her champion, her mentor, her friend. But this … this was so much more.
Some time later, Brian stirred. She raised her head up and smiled, knowing that somehow they could get through anything if they had each other, had this.
“Hayden?”
“Yes?” She ran her hand over his chest.
His hand caught hers, stopping it in its track. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Four years ago he’d said those words, after she’d kissed him and they’d cut her, but now it was worse.
“This … I’m not sure how we came to this, but I took advantage of you. You were in shock over Mom’s news and I let things go too far. I’m sorry.”
She pulled her hand from his.
Brian sat up, flipped his long legs over the side of the bed and started to dress hurriedly. As if he couldn’t get away from her quick enough. “Under the circumstances, I think it would be better if I stayed at a hotel for the rest of my visit.”
“Fine.” There. She’d managed to say something and was amazed at how normal it sounded.
“But breakfast later, okay. We’ll talk about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Let’s just go back to what we were and forget this ever happened. But we can talk about Kathleen and how we can work together to help her through this.”
“But I want—”
“Sorry. But I don’t want.” She pulled the sheet higher, pressing it tighter to her chin. “You can show yourself out.”
“I’ll pick you up for breakfast at eight, right? You’ll still go?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
She listened to the small noises he made as he gathered his things. Then she listened as the front door opened and closed.
He was gone.
She flopped back onto her pillow. Those two words running over and over in her mind.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
Brian left Hayden’s apartment, walked to Broad Street and hailed a cab. “Just drive.”
He had no idea where he was going. All he knew is he had to get away from Hayden before he made more of a muck of things.
He’d made love to her.
He knew that she was as close to his mother as he was, knew how vulnerable and scared she’d be.
He should have comforted her—period.
That’s what he’d started out to do. He wasn’t sure how things had gotten out of hand. He’d never intended for it to happen. But that was no excuse. He was a grown man, she was graduating from college.
He realized the cab was driving through the historic district. “Let me out here.”
He paid his fare, grabbed his bag and got out. He didn’t know where to go, so he wandered aimlessly, wondering how he could set things right with Hayden. How he could make her understand that he did love her, and he hadn’t set out to take advantage of her?
Hayden shared a connection with his mother that he’d never have. It wasn’t that his mother didn’t love him. She did. He’d never doubted it. But Hayden was the daughter she’d never had, a friend.
He could picture the two of them, thick as thieves, laughing over something on the television. They’d become a unit, complementing each other in so many ways. Hayden had kept his mom’s music tastes current, and his mom taught Hayden to appreciate Katherine Hepburn.
His mom would need her support to get through the …
He hesitated even thinking the word.
Cancer.
Such a small word that represented such an awful disease.
He knew his mother would find him helping her awkward, but Hayden would be different. His mom needed Hayden.
And he wanted to be there for both of them.
He had to fix his relationship with Hayden.
He’d made a mistake. Taken them somewhere they never should have gone. He’d put their friendship at risk.
Brian found himself in front of a Best Western hotel on Chestnut Street and went in to get a room.
He’d figure out how to make it up to Hayden. She was part of their family, and he couldn’t let one foolish mistake change anything.