had the right doctor in his back pocket.
She called the pediatrician after that, brought her up to date and gave her Dr. Jeff Armstrong’s email address at Sloan Kettering so she could send him Bethanie’s test results digitally.
“I’ll handle it right away,” she promised. Coco called British Airways after that and got two business class seats for the next day. She wasn’t sure if she should take three, in case Ian wanted to go with them, but she could always call them back. She went to pack then, and was just finishing when Ian came home. He was hoping that everything had gone well, but he’d almost been afraid to come home and hear bad news. Coco had waited till he got home so she could tell him in person, not by text or on the phone.
“Did the doctor call you?” he asked, instantly worried when he saw Coco’s face. She gave him the rapid version.
“She’s got leukemia. They want to start her on chemo. I’m going to New York tomorrow with her. Sam has a client who’s a star pediatric oncologist at Sloan Kettering. He’ll see her day after tomorrow. I don’t know if we’ll do treatment here or there. Do you want to come with us?” He didn’t answer her at first, but sat down facing her. He was as pale as she was. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. It had hit him like a hand grenade.
“I’ll let you get settled first. Call me after you see him. I can come over later if you stay.” She nodded. It didn’t even seem strange to her that he wasn’t flying with them. Nothing did. Not after the news she’d had. Bethanie woke up crying then, and Coco went to comfort her.
They were leaving on a nine A.M. flight to New York the next day. She had texted the information to Sam. They were landing at noon New York time, and had to leave the house at six A.M. to get to the airport in time to check in. Coco was frantic all day, and Ian stayed in his office.
Bethanie went to sleep early, still feverish, and Coco nearly crawled into the kitchen while Ian cooked dinner, which he did almost every night when he was there. She knew he was due for another writing spell sometime soon, but she didn’t know when. He never warned her ahead of time or knew himself when he’d be ready to start. It just came to him and he left.
She could only eat a few mouthfuls for dinner. They were packed and she had put in all of Bethanie’s favorite toys, stuffed animals, and blankets, in case they stayed. All she took were jeans, sweaters, and running shoes for herself. She expected to be at the hospital for however long they were there.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said to Ian when she stopped trying to eat and put her fork down.
“Don’t give up,” he said sternly. “She’s tougher than you think, and if this guy is any good, he’ll cure her.”
“They have a good success rate, but it’s not a hundred percent,” she reminded him. “Some kids don’t make it. And the chemo will make her very sick. She’ll lose her hair.” But as long as she didn’t lose her life, Coco could live with it. He looked as distraught as she did, and cleaned up the kitchen when she went upstairs to take a bath. He had said very little all day since she told him the news. He looked disoriented and distracted.
When he walked into her bathroom half an hour later, she knew something was wrong. She could see more bad news coming. From him this time.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and he shook his head and she could see that he was crying.
It took him a few minutes to compose himself. “There are things that you don’t know about me, that most people don’t need to know. But now you do. I told you that my father killed my mother. He was insane, a drunk, a drug addict. He’d been in and out of jail and mental hospitals. He killed my mother in a senseless rage. I had a little sister too. She was ten years younger than I was. She was seven. He killed her too, when he killed my mother. I was out and when I came home, I found them, all three of them. I never recovered from it. I