fourteen
The day in the cancer ward was more difficult than ever. Candace tried to come up with a reason she felt that way. Some of the patients she’d met before were back after a relapse. It wasn’t the first time she met some who probably would go home only to require hospice care, if they made it home at all. The mothers wore their usual brave smiles. Most likely they watered their pillows at night. The youngest patients wore yarn wigs fancy enough to make Rapunzel jealous or capes finer than Superman’s.
As usual, she cheated at the game of pin the ponytail on Candace to avoid getting poked in the eye. Colin knelt by child after child and talked to each one, drawing out their wishes and dreams. His phone version of Sabrina told jokes and offered absurdly wrong facts. One little boy argued with the AI over the number of states in the US with other children joining in. It wasn’t until they were in the car headed back to the hotel that Candace realized Sabrina had recorded all the wishes and dreams of the children.
“I know some organizations help with some of these wishes, like trips to amusement parks and things, but do you think there is anything I could do?” asked Colin as he scrolled through his phone.
“I’m sure you could make a hefty donation or two.”
“That isn’t enough. Like eight-year-old Peter wants his mommy to live in a house again. Apparently they ended up selling it to pay for their part of his treatments.”
“Sometimes that happens. My father ended up selling our farm to my uncle, Zoe’s father, to help pay for my mother’s and my treatments. The chemo drug that worked for me wasn’t approved by our insurance. Of course, it had the side effect of never needing to purchase shampoo again.”
“So, do you think I could do something?”
“Why not? You have the resources.” Candace couldn’t help but think of the things she would do if she could literally spend millions without thinking about it.
“What about the carousel and theme park you envisioned?”
“That is a massive project. It may take Nick’s and Daniel’s involvement as well, maybe even Preston’s and Kyle’s. An indoor, climate-controlled park that would need to be as clean as a hospital room isn’t a small project.” More like pie-in-the-sky massive. The cleaning costs alone would be prohibitive, not to mention the fact that it would earn zero revenue.
“I have been thinking about the merry-go-round. Isn’t that going to be almost impossible to clean?”
“I’ve been looking at a few different sealants and coatings. Some polyurethane products look quite promising, but I really don’t know as much as I should.” Candace was getting to the point she had exhausted her online knowledge base. Sally was a helpful resource, but Rick had found problems with the concept at every turn.
“Hmmm. I am a dunce when it comes to chemistry, but it seems like there should be some coatings that would be what you need.”
“We don’t need to solve it today. I don’t think the carousel is even 10 percent done. I already asked my old professor, Dr. Christensen, to find me a couple of interns for the spring semester. The foundation painting goes pretty fast, but the details will take much longer to finish. It’s hard to believe everything was hand carved or, in the case of all the iron, forged by hand. The flowers I have been painting on the zebra’s head are so detailed.” Rick had caught her using dental tools to scrape out a few of the paint flecks they’d missed in the petals yesterday. He felt that the job his crew had completed was adequate. Candace wanted amazing, not adequate. Yes, when she was done painting, no one would know, but she would, and that made a difference.
The driver pulled up to the hotel. Andrew, who was the only bodyguard besides the driver for this trip, got out first. Candace was glad Jethro Hastings agreed that the hospital visit required minimum security. It meant fewer people around—a win for the children and for her. As of yet, no one had seen the need to give her personal security. The irony that Colin was the wealthiest of the six billionaires she knew and the least known kept things simple. His introverted lifestyle kept him out of the camera’s eye. Mandy speculated that not one in fifteen paparazzi even knew what Colin looked like as he appeared publicly with Daniel only on the rarest of occasions.
The driver got the door. Colin escorted her up to her suite, which he had upgraded from the room she had across town in a well-known chain hotel. His reasoning was if he had to stay in a hotel with better security, she had to as well.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” he asked.
“I need to go over my notes for my speech tomorrow. I was thinking of just ordering room service. I know that isn’t much fun for you.”
“I don’t mind. I could come and keep you company?” The sentence ended with a hopeful question mark.
Candace bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to share what she planned on saying or wanted to highlight for the support group tomorrow. If Colin was in the room while she prepared, there would be thoughts she couldn’t express, and he would hold her if she cried. Normally that would be a good thing as it would end the tears. Tonight, she needed to feel. “I need to finish writing this alone. I am afraid you are a huge distraction.”
“I understand.” His pinched brow told her he didn’t.
She kissed him softly before opening the door to her suite. “I’ll call you when I am done. Maybe we can watch an episode of some old sitcom.” Candace closed the door before she was tempted to let him in. Part of the problem she had with tomorrow’s address was separating her mother’s pain from her own. Few of the fifteen chapters’ support-group members had firsthand experience with what their lost loved one had faced. Candace intimately knew it all—from the disbelief at the diagnosis to the putting your life in the hands of a world-renowned surgeon you only got to talk with for ten minutes. How could she convey those feelings she needed to?
She paced the room, wondering what to disclose. Who could she ask for advice? Candace scrolled through her contact list. Odd—she didn’t even recall putting that number in. She hit the green icon and waited while it rang.
“Hello, Reverend Cavanagh? This is Candace. We met at Sean and Tessa’s wedding.”
A quiet evening had never bothered Colin before, but tonight his mind jumped from one project to another. Peter and his wish for a house wouldn’t leave him alone. It only took him a few minutes to discover where Peter had lived before his diagnosis. It helped that the boy had described everything from the basketball hoop to the name of his next-door neighbor’s cat. The house was not for sale, of course. However, there were four or five comparable homes in the area. Other than his father’s passing, Colin didn’t have much experience with death. What would Peter’s parents and sister want other than to have Peter well? He couldn’t give them that, but he could provide Peter his wish. He found the number for Peter’s mother on her social media account. It went to voicemail. Colin didn’t leave a message as he realized that this might be something the lawyers needed to be involved in. He made a note and moved to the next child’s wish.
She wanted her baby sister to remember her. A video camera and some dress-up clothes could easily make that wish a reality. Colin continued going through the wishes. Some, like a real pet unicorn, were not possible with any amount of money. Others were simple. His favorite was from a thirteen-year-old girl who wanted to give her mom a locket with her photo in it from when she still had hair. “I want her to remember the times before the hard stuff. Like when I threw a tantrum because she bought the wrong color of socks. I want her to remember me as a normal teen.”
Just before midnight, his phone rang with Candace’s song. “Hey, are you done?”
“Yes, but I am pretty drained.” Her voice sounded as if she had been crying.
“Shall I come over?”
“I’m not sure it’s wise.”
“Why not?”
“You know those dating lines we discussed? I’m feeling . . . well, let’s just say I won’t want to let you go.”
Colin cleared his throat. Candace had very clear boundaries, ones she never crossed. “What if I set my phone alarm for a half hour? I won’t cross any lines.”
“Forty-five minutes?”
He had his limits too, but he didn’t know if he could be the strong one for more than a half hour. “A half hour. You need sleep.”
“Okay.”
She opened the door before he knocked and launched herself into his arms. Colin held her with one arm as he closed the door. “What is wrong?”
“I ended up calling my dad and sister. Part of the reason I started these groups is we couldn’t talk about Mom or about me. In some ways, we still can’t. I asked Dad why he doesn’t like to see my head.”
“What did he say?”
“He says he thinks it means he failed me. The drug had a flaw, and he blames himself. The drug may have saved my life, yet he blames himself.” She shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around his guilt. “We talked about my hair and a few of the things Reverend Cavanagh told me.”
“When did you talk to the reverend?”
“I called him earlier this evening. He asked me why I’d created the group, and I told him I hoped it would help us talk. Apparently, I have helped hundreds of others talk, just not my family. He suggested I call Dad and my sister. I nearly hung up on him, but the reverend is persuasive. In the end, I am glad I talked to my dad. I told him about you and your reaction to my bald head. He wants to meet you.”
“Really?” Meeting the parents was a big thing, right? He didn’t know if he was ready or what he would he say to Candace’s dad. Your daughter is amazing, by the way. I had a friend make up this job just so she could be near me. Oh, and if she agrees, I want to marry her. I’ve been watching proposal scenes on the Hearthfire channel all month.
“I told dad about my ten-year plan. He told me he never heard a single doctor give me a so-long-to-live timeline like they gave my mom. Her cancer was already very advanced when they found it. When they found mine I was only at stage two. Dad told me about one of Mom’s surgeries that she really didn’t need as she knew it wouldn’t prolong her life. She just did it to make mine easier for me. I wish he would have told me before now. I can’t believe she went through all that pain just so she could support me.” Candace produced a tissue from her pocket and turned away as she blew her nose. “Sorry. I’m a big snotty mess.”
Colin handed her a pocket handkerchief. “These absorb more.”
“You even carry a handkerchief in your jeans?”
“Mom insisted. I never broke the habit.” Actually, it was very convenient for all sorts of things. Janie couldn’t wash off the notes he scribbled on them in permanent marker, although he rarely did that anymore. A tablet didn’t ever get tossed in the laundry basket.
Candace wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.
“How did your talk with your sister go?” Colin realized he had never even heard Candace say her sister’s name.
Candace started pacing. “The same as always. I think she’s spent the last ten years in denial. She is still angry at me for ruining her senior year of high school. It isn’t my fault I got more attention than she did. She claims I got all this time with mom that she didn’t. Mom and I took chemo treatments together. We had surgeries in the same hospital to remove tumors. Mom and I shared the pain, and she is jealous! I don’t understand. She is the one who went to her high school graduation and has her white picket fence and two practically perfect children and a husband who adores her. She got everything she planned on, but she still blames me. I don’t get it.”
“I could be wrong, but it sounds like you are jealous of her too.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Candace spun to face him, her hands on her hips.
Colin held up his hands. “She has a perfectly normal, somewhat pedestrian lifestyle. That is what you once wanted too, isn’t it?”
Her hands slid from her hips. “Once upon a time ago I did. But those dreams are gone.”
The next question sat on his tongue. He didn’t have the courage to ask whether she still wanted a husband and children.
Sabrina’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Time is up. Your time is up. Candace, go home.”
“She has incredibly bad timing.” Candace stuck her tongue out at his phone. “But thank you for listening.”
“We can save the kissing for another night.” Colin drew her close for one good-night kiss.
Before he could start the second one, Sabrina interrupted again. “Your time is up.”
Candace started giggling. “Night, Colin.”
Colin returned to his room and vowed that next time he would set a standard alarm.