Chapter 15

Maxwell thought he must've read the same sentence over and over on this current contract at least ten times. His pen was poised to sign and had been there in his hand for the past five minutes without a single sign of moving any closer towards the dotted line. The words were blurring on the page, where his eyes were trying so hard to focus on them.

He'd quite forgotten what the entire stupid paper was about, to be honest.

If it hadn't been for a threat that sounded like theatres closing their doors, he would've been compelled to ask who actually cared what the bloody thing was about? Why did it matter? What did any of this matter when there were far more important things going on in the world, like…like friends, halfway across the country who were desperately sick but on complete radio silence?

The thought of C.C. wasting away in some hospital bed or clinic somewhere hadn't left his mind since Niles had put it there. And that had been the previous night – he'd left the butler to his preparations, gone to toss and turn in bed, caught a few measly hours of piss-poor sleep, and had had to be up bright and early that morning. That last part had been in the hope of getting something done, despite the fact that his mind clearly had other plans for him today.

He'd even taken half a breakfast in his office – the unburnt half of a piece of toast and a cup of coffee he'd been sure to pour himself, rather than let Miss Fine handle that too.

None of it had come to much of anything. The breakfast was gone but he didn't remember eating it or anyone coming in to take it away, the files were open but unread, and this…this contract, whatever it was, was no closer to being a closed deal than Maxwell was to being an astronaut. The rest of the room was a state, too – not from Niles leaving it to go to Chicago, but from Maxwell himself picking things up to start on them and then putting them back down somewhere else.

That had all taken him round to about a quarter to twelve. God only knew what he was going to do with the rest of the day, if the morning had been like this!

Probably spend it thinking about C.C. again, knowing his mind. And his knot-riddled intestines, which were busy squeezing themselves so hard he thought he might get a rather visual reminder of whether or not he did eat breakfast earlier.

Life threatening. Those were the words that Niles had used. Obviously he knew what that meant, he wasn't a complete fool, but…couldn't the butler have narrowed it down any more than that? Maxwell knew he couldn't even fathom what it could be by himself; the possibilities were too many and all of them were equally horrible! Any time he thought about so much as considering one of them, the image became so upsettingly abhorrent that he was forced to push it away again!

He didn't want to think about what it was that she had. Being able to put a name to a disease or a condition would make it so much easier to help, though. And he did want to help, perhaps more than he had ever wanted to help out with anything in his whole life! And how was he supposed to do that if she wouldn't tell him anything about what had been going on? What was still going on?

If he'd known right from the start, none of this would've been happening. He would've been on the phone to every doctor and specialist in New York, both the city and the state, tracking down exactly the right people to help her get through this without her having to go anywhere at all!

She would've been able to stay at home. She wouldn't have had to leave her friends behind in the dark…

Just like he'd been about near enough everything in her life, Niles no doubt would've said if he'd been there. C.C. hadn't wanted anybody to know about this, and anyone who'd paid even a modicum of attention to that fact – or to any other fact about her – would've known without guesswork or demands that she wouldn't be telling anybody about what was going on. Anybody who'd actually known her would've known that this was exactly what she'd do at the first sign of something wrong.

Anybody who wasn't him, he thought. Much to his deep shame and embarrassment. How could he have possibly gone fifteen years, an entire decade and a half, without actually knowing anything at all about the woman he'd worked so closely with? The woman he'd practically had the audacity at this point to call his friend! Anybody could've quizzed him on the most basic things, like what she did for hobbies, or…or even what her favourite colour was and he wouldn't have been able to give so much as a vague answer! Whatever she did with her time outside of work was a complete mystery to him, and as for how she handled her feelings about anything, well…!

Well, he wasn't really even sure of the answer for inside of work anymore, let alone out! In Maxwell's mind, C.C. had always been a brute force taking any kind of feelings she'd had along for a ride with her, not the other way round. And that brute force had been to be reckoned with, he could tell you! She'd powered her way through anything that had ever gotten in her way, dominating the theatre scene and towering over even the most overly inflated egos of actors and choreographers everywhere!

He didn't think of her as the sort of person who ever really got upset about anything. And that was putting it mildly; the woman had practically been made of steel some days!

Maxwell had always…well...always thought of it as one of her better traits, when it came to business. He'd always been able to rely on that stalwartness and determination, no matter what challenges they could've faced in a day. She was practically the rock on which Maxwell Sheffield Productions had been built!

He put down the contract, giving up on trying to read it now. C.C. would've had it done in an instant, he knew that, but…but would he have been able to tell if she was happy? Could he really have missed all the signs that pointed other people directly towards how she was feeling? How she was actually doing in her life?

Upsettingly, it did seem likely that he'd somehow overlooked this other side to C.C. Babcock. This other side that wasn't ever on display, and that wasn't as strong as the one she put on like…like a suit of armour…whenever she went to work…

Before he could elaborate on that, however, the phone started trilling at him. He flinched a little in his seat on the first ring – the office had been quiet until then, and on so little proper sleep everything else sounded unbearably loud…

New force of habit – said habit being to have to occasionally get on without Niles – meant that he pulled the thing over and picked up the receiver right away.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Maxwell. It's me," said a weak but familiar voice at the other end.

Too familiar. So familiar that if he hadn't frozen in his chair, he would probably have leapt right out of it.

It…it sounded like C.C. down the other end, but surely that wasn't possible? Niles had said the last thing she'd want to do was talk to him, or to anybody else who didn't know what was going on with her!

Could he have been going mad, sat there, thinking about all of this? No. No, he didn't think he was insane – that had to feel different to this! Maybe he'd…maybe he'd just misheard whoever was on the other end because he was thinking about this too much? That wouldn't have made him mad, just…mistaken! Right?

He'd only talked to Niles about all of this yesterday! It was all still fresh in his mind, and he hadn't slept well at all, so it couldn't really be her! Could it? That would mean she'd changed her mind about the whole thing, and if there was one thing he absolutely did know about C.C. it was that she rarely, if ever, changed her mind…

"C.C….?" he tested the waters. "Is that really you…?"

"Yes, Maxwell, it's me," C.C. replied. There might've been an eye roll in there – but who could tell? "I know it's…been a long time, to say the least."

Another, angrier Maxwell would've said that she could bloody well say that again and ask where the hell it was that she'd been all this time. But that wasn't him anymore.

So, he kept it short.

"You can, um…you can certainly say that again…!"

"Believe me, I do have an explanation. About why I went away without telling anybody."

Maxwell's first instinct tried its best to kick in. To tell her that he already knew at least some – that Niles told him. But it was held back at the last second, restrained by the memory of Niles telling him she hadn't wanted anybody to know. That not even her own parents knew, so why on Earth should he get to jump the queue when it suited him?

And Niles hadn't phoned himself to say there had been a change of plans. So…so he still had to operate under an assumption of her not knowing that he knew? Or at least sort of knew?

Alright. He could pretend not to know something; he wasn't a complete idiot!

"Okay then, C.C.," he said instead, keeping his and playing it cool. "I'm listening."

"I left those months ago because I…" she took a breath and composed herself down the phone. "I found out that I have cancer. Stage four Hodgkin's lymphoma. I know it's not an excuse to go off by myself without telling anybody. But please, just listen and give me a chance to explain myself and why I did what I did."

Maxwell's face fell like a tree being cut down in a forest.

She might have just said all of that to him, but it came out as at him. Maxwell had stopped listening the moment the word "cancer" had buzzed through from the other end of the phone.

Everything he'd said and everything he'd done in those last few months rushed back in like excited concert-goers, pushing, shoving, shouting and taking up room in his brain to haunt him.

And to torment him – deservedly!

How the hell could he have been so horrible, so unforgiving and…and cruel, to someone so terribly ill?! Had he no shame? No sense of decency or understanding?! Had he really been so selfish and caught up in his own little world of business that he'd imagined she just couldn't possibly leave for anything like…oh, he didn't know, personal reasons to do with her health?!

Oh, God. Niles had said it was life-threatening! How had his mind not gone straight to cancer? He'd said he hadn't wanted to think about any of the options, but surely that notion had had to be pretty high on the list!

Sorrow and guilt fought for control inside him, tearing their way through his insides. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe he'd let it all get this far! Was he that bad a business partner? Was he that bad a friend, which he still laughably called himself? Someone who'd been nothing but loyal to him and their work had disappeared for months and the first thing he'd decided was that she'd betrayed him, not that something was terribly wrong?!

The fact that she was calling him even now made her a better person than he ever would be—

"Hello? Maxwell, are you still there?"

"Yes!"

Surprised, Maxwell's legs unrooted themselves from his chair and leapt on instinct, slipping him forwards and nearly throwing him down in the gap between his chair and desk. They scrambled quietly for purchase on the carpet.

Meanwhile, their owner continued to talk.

"I'm…I'm still here. And C.C., I…I don't even know what to say! I'm so, so sorry…"

"It's fine, Maxwell, you don't have to worry about it," C.C. answered. "It's not like it's your fault…!"

Sliding back into his seat fully, Maxwell felt his frown biting deeper into the corners of his mouth. C.C. didn't sound right. She sounded sort of…clipped, almost. Like there was something he'd said that she disapproved of, or didn't like in the slightest, but she was choosing to ignore it for the sake of the conversation.

He didn't like it. But, also for the sake of the conversation, he decided to move on from it.

"Alright," he said quietly.

He wasn't entirely convinced he should believe her. But he could only go with what he had available and she'd told him to essentially drop it.

"Where have you been, though?" he continued instead. "Why have you only just started reaching out now? It's been months, and—"

"I know it has, Maxwell, and I'm sorry!" C.C. cut him off. "I'm sorry I didn't do this all sooner. I just…I think it must've all been too much for me when I found out, and I, uh…I wasn't feeling brave enough to tell anybody. I didn't think any of you would…would want to…"

She trailed off into nothing. If it hadn't been for the fact that Maxwell heard a sigh, he would've thought they'd been cut off.

His frown straightened back up into a line, "Want to what, C.C.?"

There were a few more seconds of mostly silence. In the background of what should've been her answer, he could hear fabric rustling. Her clothes, perhaps? Or…or maybe she was so ill she was doing this from her bed…

"I didn't think any of you would want to stick it out around me," she eventually blurted out.

It was fast and it came out like a confession. And when Maxwell didn't reply right away, she clearly thought something was wrong on his end and decided that meant she had to go on to fill the silence.

"It's exactly not a short weekend break away, you know?" she forced out a light chuckle. "And I know I can be like a rabid cat getting a shot at the best of times…!"

Maxwell's mouth fell open, hurt spreading in his chest. Why on Earth was she talking about herself like this? Like…like she was some sort of half-welcome acquaintance that everyone would be glad to be shot of the minute she left the building?!

Did she honestly think all of this about herself? Did she truly believe that none of her friends actually liked her, or wanted to be around her at any given moment? What kind of awful, high school-ish scheme did she think was going on behind her back? Who'd hurt her so badly in her life that she was utterly convinced nobody wanted to deal with her?

Maxwell didn't know the answer to that. But he did know he had to stop all of this, and he had to stop it right that instant!

"C.C., you're my friend! One of the very best that I have!" Maxwell cried out, ignoring the shadow image he had in his mind of Niles rolling his eyes. "Why on Earth wouldn't I want to help you with this? If I'd known right from the start, I would've been over there in a heartbeat! All of us would have – me, Niles, Miss Fine and the children!"

There was a pregnant pause, during which the only thing Maxwell could hear coming from the other end of the phone was C.C.'s laboured breathing. It sounded a lot like she was trying hard not to cry. Not that Maxwell would simply come out and ask if she was crying – he knew better than to put her in the spotlight like that…

"I don't know what to say, Maxwell," she said in a choked voice – she was most definitely crying. "At the time I felt like it would be best for everyone. Like it would save you all the trouble—"

"You aren't trouble!" Maxwell cut her off – he wasn't an affectionate man in the same way C.C. wasn't an affectionate woman, but he would have given everything right then to be giving her a tight hug. "I don't know where you got that idea, but suffice to say everyone in this house is here for you."

"I'm aware of that now," she replied. "As…as a matter of fact Niles is here already. He…he reached out first. Sort of – he snooped around my apartment until he figured out where I was."

In spite of themselves and the situation they found themselves in, C.C. and Maxwell both shared a quiet laugh.

"Did he now?" Maxwell asked, smirking. "Well, that does sound a lot like Niles."

"Maxwell, you should have seen it! The bastard gate-crashed the fucking clinic!" C.C. said with what Maxwell imagined was a watery smile. "He was lucky to meet my likeminded bastard of an oncologist while he was at it, too. And Doctor Wilson was more than happy to help sneak him into my damn room. Just like my brother and Rubbermaid here, he seemed to think I needed…well…some company."

The mention of her obvious loneliness sucked practically any trace of levity from the conversation. It was a stark reminder that things weren't okay and that C.C. was still in a delicate condition, both emotionally and physically. But at the same time Maxwell sensed this was his chance.

"If that is the case, then I'd be glad to help out, too," he quickly said – he didn't want to allow himself to have any second thoughts on the matter and potentially chicken out at the last possible moment. "I…I mean, I'd love to visit, if…if that's alright by you, of course."

Once again, he listened as C.C. just breathed down the phone. She must have been thinking about what he'd just asked. Thinking about it, and panicking – her breaths had sped up since the words had left his mouth, and they sounded more ragged than before.

Maxwell's insides squeezed themselves tightly. That had to have counted as overstepping the mark, didn't it? He'd made a woman panic and put her on the spot for something he'd wanted, all in the hopes that she'd say yes to letting him and his family visit her!

Yet again, what had he been thinking? He'd been a guest to places before, but he'd never once wangled an invitation! What kind of a person went along without the host's say-so first? What kind of person didn't even wait for the host to finish deciding if they even wanted guests over in the first place?!

What kind of…of an excuse for a person inserted themselves into the room of a cancer ward, demanding attention as though they were a banquet-goer in their own stately home?

He didn't want to be that kind of person. He was absolutely not that kind of person! He couldn't control the narrative like this – not when it was about what C.C. wanted.

But he could try and make it right again.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that, C.C., I do apologise—"

"Maxwell, it's fine," the voice was back to as quick and smart as possible. "I swear to God it's fine. And this is all up to me, anyway; reaching out and trying to speak to more people is all part of the awareness. It's practically what God would want!"

There was another silence. C.C. probably thought her joke had fallen flat, because she carried on as though nothing had happened.

"But yeah. He and Wilson in particular have been pushing me to make an effort by reaching out to more people. To open up a little," she sniffed. "Niles' been coming for a while now, you know. What's he been telling you, about the days he hasn't been home?"

Maxwell's eyes widened.

Uh-oh. One word of what Niles had said to him – any single one of them – could land them both in hot water right then! She'd probably feel like they'd been spying on her, which they most certainly had not and would continue to not do! Well, at least he knew he hadn't been spying on C.C. – it sounded like Niles might have, with the snooping and everything, but that was hardly the point here. Besides, she knew about it now.

Telling her that they'd been talking about her behind her…without her being there…that might set something entirely new off!

"He's, um…he actually told me that he'd been having some…some family issues, back in England…"

Good. Weave the original lie back in, which wasn't quite a lie because that was what Niles had told him. It would make it all that little bit more believable, and meant the butler's tracks were especially covered!

But wait. As far as C.C. was concerned, this was the first time he was hearing about any of it! He should've been far more shocked to know that his own butler had been "lying" directly to his face and traipsing off wherever he wanted to go, all without Maxwell's knowledge!

"So you can be sure that I will be, um…discussing his rather blatant lies with him as soon as I get the opportunity," he added before the gap became too big. "But for now I can let it go. I-I mean, it is…rather understandable. Of course, this is the first I'm hearing of it, but I do understand where he was coming from in hiding it. If it had been me, I probably would've done the same thing…! You know, if I'd been in that position and…and, um…had had me, as an employer…"

Rather than waiting for any kind of reaction to that plate of spaghetti of an answer, which he knew would probably lead to her asking him why he was being weird, he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"But anyway, speaking of visiting in, uh, any regard, where is it exactly that I should be visiting you again?"

He almost heard C.C. jump down the phone.

"Oh! That's right – I didn't tell you. It's the New Eden Clinic, in Chicago," she said. "Have you got a pen? Write this down…"

Maxwell immediately snatched up a pen and grabbed the nearest clean sheet of paper, not caring that he was leaning on top of the contract he'd been looking at when pressing the nib to the paper.

"It's 600 Westley Road, Glencoe, Illinois. New Eden Clinic."

Maxwell finished taking that down, then silently let out a relieved breath and started to smile.

"Wonderful!" he then realised what that must have sounded like. His pen dropped from his hand and rolled across the desk. "I…I-I mean, uh…not wonderful, exactly, but you know what I mean."

He hoped that C.C. was smiling down the other end of the line. But it was hard to tell from her tone.

"I do know what you mean," she said, pausing for a moment. "And please…tell Nanny Fine that she's welcome to come along when you visit, if she wants. But maybe it's best if the children don't see me…"

Another wave of hurt washed over Maxwell. He hadn't seen how C.C. looked, obviously, but he did know what a person generally looked like when they had cancer and were several months into battling it. And however bad she appeared to look, she'd probably be feeling about a thousand times worse on the inside; that was nothing for children to see. Especially when cancer had robbed them of their mother in the first place.

It was nothing to subject someone undergoing treatment to, either. But he would make this as easy on C.C. as possible. He'd take care of his fair share of the load – just like Niles and her brother – while she got back on her feet.

"Of course, of course," he agreed with her right away. "It will be just Miss Fine and myself visiting, then. Would you like to talk to her for a little while? She's not heard from you in such a long time, I'm sure she'd love the opportunity…"

There was another pause down the phone. It was shorter than the last, as though C.C. had frozen a moment in the terror of going off-script on a call.

"No, no – it's fine," she told him instead. "I've got, uh…a few other calls to make. I could use some time for those right now. Just come find us when you arrive at the clinic."

Maxwell wasn't about to argue with that. There were probably other people that she had to speak to, currently, and the last thing he wanted to do was get in the way or inconvenience her now. What he'd said without her knowing had already been bad enough…

"Alright, then. That all makes sense," he grabbed the sheet he'd written the address on and looked at it again. "We'll be seeing you soon, C.C.. Take care of yourself."

He immediately regretted phrasing it that way, but it was too late. It was already out there.

"I'll do my best. Goodbye, Maxwell."

Maxwell closed his eyes, pursing his lips just a little bit.

"Bye-bye, now."

The phone clicked softly back into place on the hook, and C.C. pulled in a deep breath. She let it out slowly in the silence of her room, hoping it would take away some of the sharpness digging into her insides. Poking at her, cutting deeper every time she thought about it…

The breathing didn't help. So much for all of those times her therapist had said it would be beneficial…!

Whatever had just happened here, it was clearly above "breathing exercise" pay grade. It'd taken everything in her just to dial the number, let alone get through a conversation!

Some small part of her gave her a nudge, reminding her that, despite how terrible it had all been, she'd still done it. She'd done something she'd never thought she'd be able to do in her life, perhaps ever again. She'd actually picked up the phone and had had a full conversation with Maxwell!

But that didn't make her feel better at all about what she had to do now. She wasn't done at just one phone call, even if it would've made her day to be told that she was. Maxwell had just been the tip of the iceberg; now…now, she had to call her father.

Her fingers slipped away from where they'd been lingering on the handset, hovering between picking it back up and tracing in the air over the numbers.

Did she really want to do it? Before, she would've been absolutely sure that the answer was no. But something was holding her back from just saying that outright.

Maybe it was a question of just having to do it?

But what would she get out of it if she did? The chance to tell her dad what was going on? That wasn't exactly a goldmine of a reward. What was he gonna do about it? Probably the same thing he'd done for at least the last twelve problems she'd gone to him for; say how bad he felt about it and then not call her again until the next time.

Only this time she might actually be running out of "next times". Maybe that would make him see it differently? It had to do something, didn't it, having a countdown, or…or a time frame hanging over them both? 'See your daughter by x deadline or don't see her at all? Emphasis on dead'?

She'd certainly thought the worst of Maxwell before they'd actually gotten to speaking. And as of that moment, she'd just gotten off the phone with him having arranged a visitation. Even Nanny Fine was coming along!

So perhaps she was thinking of this all wrong? Or at least thinking of it wrong prematurely. She didn't know her father was going to give up on her yet – Maxwell hadn't, and it'd seemed like a sure thing when she'd started dialling in the numbers.

So, maybe…she needed to give it a try? At the very least she needed to make a show of an effort; Niles and Wilson would have more than a few things to say between them if word somehow got back that she hadn't tried when they'd done everything they could to make her!

If she found her current situation unbearable, she didn't want to know how they could make it any worse with their scolding…

She could almost see and hear it in her head, and she found herself answering. Alright, fine. Whatever. Anything to get them to shut up before they'd even said so much as a damned word!

She grabbed the handset and reached out to dial in the number with her other hand.

It was better to get it over and done with, anyway. And what was she so afraid of anyway? He'd probably not come, no matter what she told him! She'd heard the same excuse a hundred times before, no matter what she'd said, so at this point calling up was practically just checking in. He'd say something about a business trip he just can't cancel, or a vacation with friends that he can't back out from now, or literally anything between those in terms of importance, and he'd no doubt put them before a visit to his sick daughter.

He'd even start with the same "I'm so sorry, Kitten…". She could hear that clear as a bell already…!

She stabbed at the numbers with one finger, dialling and imagining her father letting her down again before it even began to ring.