Chapter 21

Nathalie pulled the blanket tighter trying to ward off the chill that came from sitting in Grace's room. It had been 19 hours since she had been admitted and her first round of chemotherapy was scheduled to start in a short while but for now the little girl slept peacefully. She had done her best to explain the diagnosis to her young daughter and consoled herself with the fact that at the very least Grace understood she was sick. Her phone call to her parents had not gone well as they had first accused her of making it up as an excuse to keep the children longer. It was only after Epiphany took the phone from her and explained in no uncertain terms that Grace was critically ill that they agreed to let her keep both children for a few days. Tucking her legs up underneath her, she sighed and wondered how many times she could go to the well, how many times could she tough her way through things before there was nothing left.

The door creaked open and looking up she smiled as Noah came in and sat beside her.

"You haven't left, have you" he said quietly.

She shook her head. "Would you?"

Noah smiled. "Are you kidding? Patrick had his tonsils out when he was seven and his mother and I had a bedside vigil – like he was the only kid in the world to undergo that procedure."

"Well he's always been a drama queen" she joked lightly.

Noah studied her face carefully. "How are you?"

She shrugged. "That's my baby girl lying there Noah. I'm having trouble processing feelings beyond that."

"You want to trade places with her, don't you?"

"More than you know" she said hoarsely. "She's four – she's four and she's had her dad taken from her, her innocence taken from her – how much more?"

"She's had her mom taken from her too" he added gently.

Nathalie sighed. "She doesn't necessarily view that as a bad thing."

Noah took her hand. "Nat, I know a thing or two about angry children and they don't stop loving you – ever. What happened to your husband wasn't your fault."

"I'm not sure. Maybe there were signs and I didn't ask because I didn't want to know. Maybe if I had been braver I could have stopped him and my children would still have their father."

"There was nothing you could have done – you can't stop someone bent on self destruction."

Nathalie turned her head sharply. "Are you saying that for me or for you?"

He gave her a wry smile. "A bit of both. Patrick used to plead with me – beg me – to stop drinking. It didn't matter – I wanted the pain to end more than I wanted anything else. I suspect Drew felt the same way."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "You know, being a survivor isn't nearly as romantic in real life as they make it on t.v."

Noah patted her head. "You make it look pretty good Nathalie. Your children are very lucky to have you." The fatigue and worry etched on her face did not go unnoticed by him and he knew a brave front when he saw one. "Have you thought about calling Nikolas?"

She lifted her head and ran her hands through her hair. "I can't." Breathing unsteadily, she began to fidget with her hands. "This isn't his child, I'm not his wife – this isn't his problem."

"He loves you" Noah said simply. "I think he would hate that you are going through this alone."

"I'm not alone" she said quickly. "Patrick and Robin have been great – Lulu too."

"It's not the same as having someone to crawl into bed next to and have them be your strength."

Smiling, she kissed him on the cheek. "You're a good man Noah Drake – your child is lucky to have you too."

Noah stood and kissed the top of her head. "You should plan to go home and sleep for a few hours – Grace needs you rested and strong."

"I will" she said, both knowing she was lying. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Anytime."

xxxxxx

Brenda checked her watch for the fourth time and turned off the oven. Noah had said he would be home at six and it was now 8 o'clock. She had ordered take out from their favourite Indian restaurant and had set the table for a romantic dinner but it was all too late now. It was unusual for him not to at least call or text her if he was going into surgery and she was getting concerned.

Walking to the bedroom, she pulled his Harvard sweatshirt from the drawer and put it on. Bringing the collar to her nose, she breathed in the mix of his aftershave and soap and lay down on the bed. Another woman wouldn't be so insecure when her doctor boyfriend was a little late but Brenda had an innate ability to always jump to the worst possible conclusion. She flopped against the pillows as she heard his key in the door.

"Brenda?" he called out. The curry wafting in the apartment told him that she was there. He grimaced as he saw the table set with candles and flowers. "Brenda?"

"In here" she called from the bedroom.

Noah dropped his bag and coat with a heavy sigh and shuffled tiredly to his room. Brenda looked like a little girl curled up on the bed in his sweatshirt. He flopped beside her and stroked her face. "Hi."

"Hi" she said, pulling the cuffs over her hands.

"You okay?"

"You're late." He nodded. "Was it a surgery?"

"No – a few things happened and then I had to take care of something."

She arched her eyebrow. "Could you be more cryptic?"

Noah's eyes narrowed at her tone. "Brenda" he said firmly. "I've never given you any reason to worry and you don't have one now. We talked about trying to live this relationship in the moment and you have got to meet me halfway on this."

She closed her eyes. "I don't want to be a paranoid bitch…"

"Then don't be one" he said in exasperation.

Noah's reaction pulled her from her self-pity. "I'm sorry. What happened?" she asked, sitting up.

He ran his hands over his face. He loved Brenda, he had even told her so but he knew that she didn't love him. He kept thinking if he gave it enough time things would change but on nights when he was vulnerable, like this one, he didn't know if they could. She had pulled him back to life in ways he hadn't imagined but he was still the rock in their relationship, a role he was unaccustomed to playing.

"Grace has leukemia and is in the hospital starting chemotherapy."

Brenda's mouth fell open. "Grace? Nathalie's Grace?"

He nodded. "And I went to talk to Nat in hopes of making her feel better but it made me wobbly instead."

Recognition crossed her face. "Did you feel like having a drink?" she asked softly.

The corners of his mouth flickered upwards. "A drink? Brenda, I'm an alcoholic, I don't have *a* drink. I have 6, 10 or 18 drinks – whatever it takes to find the numbness. If I could have a drink I wouldn't have a problem." He sighed and reaching for her hand, pulled it to his lips. "I called my sponsor and I went to a meeting. I haven't been this tempted in a while and I was afraid that if I stopped to call you, my next stop might be the bar and not AA."

She scooted closer to him and snuggled under his arm. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry today was hard, I'm so sorry about Grace and I'm sorry that I'm so damaged that I can't see past myself to see what's going on with you."

He kissed the side of head. "We need to keep talking Brenda. You and I come with a lot of dents and scars but that doesn't mean we won't make it – we just have to keep talking."

xxxxxxx

Patrick stood outside Grace's room with a lump in his throat and watched as Nathalie tucked her in. Grace was pale and shivering, the effects of the chemo already making themselves known. He had reviewed her chart at the Nurses Station and knew that a sedative had been prescribed to help her sleep and to help with the nausea. He stared as Nathalie lay on the bed beside her, holding her hand and singing to her. She looked older, the effects of the last year showing on her face. Gathering some courage, he gently pushed the door open.

"Hi girlies" he said softly.

Grace's eyes fluttered open. "Patty!" she said tiredly. "You came."

He sat on the end of the bed and touched Nathalie's leg. "Of course I came, pumpkin. You can't hang out in my hospital without hanging out with me, you know."

She smiled. "My tummy hurts." Nathalie stroked her hair, saying nothing.

"I know it does Gracie-lou but that's why I brought you a friend to keep you company."

"You?" she asked in surprise.

"Sorry Gracie, not me but I will be here lots. But I did bring you George!" Reaching into his lab coat pocket, he pulled out a Curious George monkey and handed it to her.

"Curious George! Mommy look – it's George" Grace said brandishing the stuffed animal in her mother's face.

Nathalie was too tired to lift her head. "That's great" she said, the fatigued laced through her voice. "A monkey for a monkey. Did you thank Patty for it?"

"Thank you Patty – I love you"

The lump reappeared in his throat. "I love you too Gracie-lou – more than space. Why don't you close your eyes and let the medicine do its magic?"

"Will you come back?" she asked with concern.

"Yes baby, I'll come back later, I promise." He touched Nathalie's leg again. "Why don't you come back to my office, eat something and have a nap?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave." Her eyes never left her daughter.

"Nat…"

"Don't ask me to leave Patrick because I just can't."

"Okay" he acquiesced. Getting up from the bed, being careful not to jostle Grace, he kissed the young girl on the top of her head and kissed his friend on the cheek. "I'll come check on you later." Nathalie nodded without looking at him.

Leaving the room and heading down the hallway to his office, Patrick pulled his cell phone from his pocket along with the piece of paper Lulu had given him. Punching in the long number, he waited as the call was connected.

"Nikolas? It's Patrick. I'm not sure where things are at with you and Nathalie right now but I think you should come home."