July, 2007

Laura glanced up at the clock. The hour hand audibly clicked over to midnight. The sound had kept her awake nearly every night since she arrived, and it grated against her nerves again now. It was official. It was July the Fourth. The day she was supposed to meet Bill.

Bill had spent the last three months with his eldest son. Lee had resigned his commission in the Navy, and had agreed to have Bill come and stay with him. Bill had called her from Lee's apartment in New York to tell her he'd arrived, but she hadn't heard from him since. Not that she had expected to. That was the entire point: for Lee and Bill to spend some quality time together without any outside distractions. Laura hoped they had sorted things out.

But Bill would have returned home by now, and would be preparing for Laura's arrival. He might have fussed over groceries and wine. He had probably cleaned his side of the duplex from top to bottom. She wondered if he had added any little touches especially for her: flowers, new linens, more books?...

Sighing, Laura turned away from the ticking clock. Her gaze settled on the telephone, which sat silently on the little table beside the bed. How was she going to explain to him that she wasn't going to keep the appointment they'd set up nearly twelve months ago?

Eventually she dozed off, still contemplating the possible ways she could prevent him from rushing immediately to Washington to see her.

It was almost nine o'clock in the morning. Laura picked up the phone. She knew she shouldn't put off making the call any longer. It was better to get it over with as quickly as possible.

He answered on the second ring.

"Bill?"

"Laura? Is everything okay? Where are you?" She heard the worry in his voice.

"I'm still in town."

"You're going to be late? That's okay. Just tell me when to expect you, so I'm not worried that you've had a car accident, or anything."

Laura gripped the phone tightly. She hated him for being so understanding. It made her feel even worse about lying. Actually, she realized, she couldn't lie to him. She would just have to avoid giving an explanation, even though he certainly deserved one.

"I don't think I'll get down today at all."

He was silent.

"Or tomorrow," she added while she still had enough courage.

She closed her eyes, trying not to imagine his expression at this very moment. She had to remember this would be for the best.

"I'm not coming, Bill. I'm sorry."

She couldn't stand the thought of the pain she must be causing him. But, she thought, once she wasn't on the other end of the line any more, perhaps his heartache would be lessened. So she hung up.

There was a tap at the door, and a woman entered. Laura sat up straighter and held in the tears that she'd been about to let fall.

"Hello? Ms Roslin?" The woman held out a business card. "I'm Elosha Walker. I'm here to ensure you have suitable support when you go home."

"I'll be okay on my own," Laura murmured.

The woman pursed her lips and spoke in an authoritative tone that belied her small stature. "No, you won't. You may think you will, but you won't. I'm afraid you're going to have a lot more going on than you may realize." She opened up a folder. "This will be your new bible. Here," she pointed to the first page, "are telephone numbers for counselors and support groups. You'll automatically receive one visit from a hospital counselor. Your appointment is scheduled for two weeks from today."

Laura paled, feeling overwhelmed as the woman continued to rattle off everything else the secret folder contained: tips about nutrition and exercise, returning to the workplace, even where to buy a wig.

Elosha went on, addressing her like they were old friends. "From your records, Laura, I see that you chose not to have a reconstruction when you had your mastectomy. So, I'm including some information on this for when you're ready. This would be a good topic to discuss with your counselor. And do you have a partner? You should think about including them in these discussions."

Did she have a partner? She'd been filling out forms containing her personal details for 46 years. She'd always ticked the 'single' box without a second thought. It had never bothered her before.

"There's also some practical information in here about sex and intimacy after cancer. Frequently asked questions, that kind of thing. There's a section for your partner to read. Or, if you're single, some dating advice."

Laura looked away from Elosha's sincere and sympathetic face.

Did she have a partner? The words repeated themselves in her mind, over and over again. She was single. She was alone. She longed to lean on Bill. But did she have the right to use him in that way?

No. She would do this on her own.

Elosha got up, poured a glass of water, and offered it to her. "Take your time," she said. "This is a lot to take in all at once."

Did she have a partner? She and Bill had called each other regularly during his final months as captain of the Eisenhower. They'd talked for hours on some of those calls.

They'd discussed their likes and dislikes. They'd shared their opinions on movies and television and sports. And, of course, books.

They'd discussed their frustrations with their respective careers. When it came right down to it, however, they both loved what they did for a living. It had been nice to let off some steam, though.

They'd talked about their parents and their childhoods and their siblings.

There were certain aspects of their lives that had never come up, though. She hadn't touched on her relationship with Sean, or Richard, or any of her past lovers. She would never want to compare what she had with Bill with what she had with another man. It wasn't relevant anyway. They had never brought up the subject of his ex-wife, either. Laura knew neither of them was avoiding the truth; it just hadn't come up in conversation. But if it did, she felt certain that they would be honest, and tell the other everything they wanted to know.

Some days, those phone calls had been the most important thing in her life. She had looked forward to them. She had relied on them.

They'd laughed and argued and occasionally talked dirty.

They had even, once or twice, said nothing at all. It had been enough just to know that he was at the other end of the line.

Neither of them talked about getting together earlier. They stuck with their July the Fourth commitment. They were both enjoying taking the time to get to know each other. Considering how long ago they'd met, it seemed ridiculous. But it had worked for them.

And, after Bill had left for Lee's, she'd been desperately counting down the days until she got to speak to him again.

A few weeks ago, everything changed. Her days became a blur of tests and scans, doctors and specialists, biopsies and operations. She'd been coping by herself. That's what she had always done.

"That doesn't mean I can't change," Laura suddenly declared.

"Sorry?" Elosha asked, confused.

"Would you pass me the telephone, please?"

The older woman looked surprised, but complied.

Laura dialed the number she'd memorized to keep herself from thinking that morning. She paused for a moment after her call was connected.

Then, she forced herself to speak in case he hung up.

"Bill," she whispered, "I'm at the hospital."

0.0.0.

Laura tensed every time the door to her ward opened. She was visited by doctors and nurses and domestics delivering meals. She struggled to be polite to them, and continued to be on the lookout for the man who had vowed to be by her side as soon as he could.

Eventually, though, she'd drifted off to sleep.

Laura glanced around when she awakened, momentarily befuddled. Her glasses were lying on the tray table instead of askew across her face, the way they usually were after she'd fallen asleep while reading. Her book wasn't balanced precariously wherever it had landed, as was the norm. A man – a man who displayed so much quiet strength – sat in a visitor's chair beside the bed, reading. It was the book he had given her all those years ago; the one Cheryl had told him she loved.

Someone of his age and masculinity might look uncomfortable reading Little Women, but Bill was as much in his element reading a book of feminine literature as he was when he boxed. There was no way she could ever pigeonhole him. He defied all her attempts to put him in a box and keep him safely inside.

"Hi," she mumbled.

He instantly sat up straighter. For a long time he said nothing, but his eyes told Laura everything she needed to know.

Did she have a partner? Yes. Without a doubt, the answer was yes. She wasn't alone. She didn't have to do this on her own.

She gasped for breath at the emotions his loving gaze evoked, and tried to control her tears once more.

He moved closer, setting the book down carefully on the edge of her bed, and took her hand in his. Turning it over, he kissed her palm.

"My stubborn Jo," he said.

"No," she objected in a shaky voice. "I was always Meg. The eldest and most sensible. Cheryl was Jo; the exuberant one with a million ideas. Cheryl stood up to everyone, just like Jo. But like Meg, I always remained diplomatic, trying to please everyone. Sandra was Amy, the spoiled, indulged child; always getting into trouble. But so lovely, we would forgive her for anything and everything."

"I was so angry with you that day. The day I gave you this," he gestured toward the book.

"I know." She turned her hand over and squeezed his. One day she hoped he would understand that Sean meant nothing to her.

"But you're so lovely, I'd forgive you for anything and everything."

Laura whimpered and let the tears fall freely from her eyes.

"We used to say how lucky we were. That there were only three of us. No sad Beth, we'd say." She snorted bitterly. "How wrong can people be? We all had a piece of Beth in us, after all."

"No," he said in a determined voice. "I'm here. And you're not going anywhere."

He leaned over and gently pulled her into his lap. She buried her head against his chest. Inhaling deeply, she let his familiar scent overpower the antiseptic one she had become accustomed to in the last few weeks.

"You've put on weight," she said, holding onto his solid body.

"You're not going to complain, are you? You said you wanted the pudgy old man version?"

She pushed herself further into his arms, pressing hard against him; imagining that some of his strength could flow into her.

"No, not complaining. I'm looking forward to exploring all the differences once we're home. I'm not sure certain parts of you could get any bigger, but I could check, just to make sure."

He chuckled, and she leaned back to offer him a saucy smile. Her smile then turned to a giggle, and finally into a full laugh.

"Oh, Bill!" she cried. "I'm flirting. You have no idea how good that feels."

He dropped a kiss onto her laughing mouth.

"Love you," he murmured against her lips.

"I love you too, Bill." She breathed the words into his mouth as he kissed her sweetly. When they came up for air, she held his gaze and repeated the sentiment. "I love you."