lie down on their bed, next to Zoe.
“You hate me, don’t you,” Zoe said in a hoarse whisper with the TV on in the background. She wasn’t really watching, she just wanted the noise and the voices.
“Of course I don’t hate you. I love you. I just wonder what we’re doing wrong. Other kids don’t get hurt this much, and their parents don’t know every nurse in the ER.” Zoe was always so nice to them that they remembered her, and Jaime. Austin reached over and took her hand in his, and saw that she was crying. It turned into sobs almost immediately, and he pulled her into his arms and held her.
“I’m so sorry, it was an accident. I promise it won’t happen again.” But suddenly he was afraid it would. He was frightened that something was happening he didn’t understand.
“I believe you. And I’m sorry too. You’re the best mother in the world,” but for the first time it had a hollow ring to it. If she was, why did Jaime keep getting hurt? He told Zoe again and again what a good mother she was, and as he held her, there were tears rolling down his cheeks too, and the woman in his arms was starting to feel like a stranger to him. Maybe his mother was right.
Chapter 9
When Jaime was two and a half, having her normal checkup, Zoe asked to talk to Cathy Clark in her office and asked her a question which stunned her.
“I know this probably sounds crazy to you,” she said to her friend almost shyly, “but would you do some bloodwork on her to check for leukemia?” Cathy frowned and looked worried. It was an odd request.
“Do you suspect something? Have you seen any signs that would indicate that?” She knew that Zoe had attended two years of medical school, was still interested in the profession, still occasionally read medical journals, and had a surprising amount of scientific knowledge. But in answer to Cathy’s question, Zoe shook her head.
“No, I haven’t,” she said. “It’s just that…afterward, my mother said that there had been some symptoms six months before they discovered my sister had leukemia. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference, but who knows if with six more months jump on it, she might have survived it. She had the most aggressive form of the disease, so maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything. Rose was three when they diagnosed her. I just don’t want to miss something, and have a bad surprise later. It would reassure me if her tests come back clear.”
“It’s a very unusual request,” Cathy said quietly. She felt sorry for her. Zoe was obviously still haunted by the loss of her sister, and terrified it could happen to Jaime, the same shocking news, the agonizing years, the tragic ending. “I don’t normally like to put kids through unnecessary bloodwork. And I see absolutely not the slightest hint that there is anything wrong with Jaime. If I did, I’d tell you, Zoe. I’d want to get all the tests and consultations we could on her. But I understand why you’re worried.”
“I watched my sister fade away and die for four years. If we’re going to face that, I’d rather know it so I can steel myself. My mother was amazing with her when my sister was sick. She gave her own bone marrow for a transplant. It got her three more years, but my mom thought it would save her. She would have done anything for her, and she never left her for a minute for the whole four years.”
“That must have been tough on you,” Cathy said sympathetically. Zoe didn’t usually talk about it, although she had mentioned it once or twice after they became friends.
“It was. It changed my relationship with my mother forever. Before that, she was wonderful and totally attentive to both of us, and I was the favored big sister with all the privileges. Once Rose got sick, my mother had to be at the hospital with her, at labs or doctors’ appointments, or getting chemo. I hardly ever saw her for four years. And afterward, it took her five years to get over it. She was in a daze for all that time. And when she woke up and could function again, she went back to work, which she hadn’t done since I was born. So basically, I lost her from the moment Rose got sick. We couldn’t ever put