“Is it?” she said, touched by him again. “I thought they were only to Christmas shop, and do all your cases for you, and peel you off the bathroom floor when you're sick.” It was what husbands were supposed to be for, but hers wasn't.
“Just shut up and pack your suitcase. You're embarrassing me.”
“That's impossible.”
“I'll pick you up at eight, or is that too early?” He looked suddenly worried about her.
“It's fine. Are you sure?” she asked him again. “What if you want to pick up girls?”
“It's a big house. I'll lock you in your room. I promise.” They were both smiling as she walked him to the door. She couldn't believe she had let him talk her into it, but she was looking forward to it suddenly. She knew she had four and a half months of sickness ahead of her, but something had happened to her. He had saved her spirit. She wanted to go with him, wanted to cling to life. But more than anything now, she wanted to make it. She knew she had to.
Chapter 16
The days in Vermont were the happiest Alex had had in ages, ever since before her sickness. She had called Sam and Annabelle to let them know she was there, and Sam sounded surprised to hear it.
“I didn't know you could still travel,” he said, sounding concerned. “Are you sure it's all right for you to be there? Who's with you?”
“A friend from work. I'm fine. I'll see you in New York on New Year's Day.” She gave him the number, but they never called her.
The house Brock had borrowed was simple, but very cozy. There were four bedrooms, and a kind of dormitory. He gave her the biggest room upstairs, and he took a small one downstairs so he wouldn't disturb her. And they sat around together like old friends, reading and doing crossword puzzles, and having snowball fights like two children.
She went for long walks in the snow with Brock, and she even tried skiing one day, but it was too much for her. After the chemo, she just didn't have the strength. But she felt healthier than she had in weeks. She only had one really bad day. But she stayed in bed, and by evening she was better.
He found an old sled in the garage the day after they arrived and he pulled her around, so she wouldn't get too tired.
He cooked dinner for her at night, and when she told him to go out with friends, he only laughed at her and told her he was too tired. He liked staying home with her. But one night they even went to Chez Henri for dinner, where they had a lovely time, and by the end of the week, Alex was feeling a lot better again. She was at the better end of her chemo, which meant it would be time for another treatment soon, but fortunately not yet. She had never had a nicer vacation, and they became fast friends and spent a lot of their time laughing.
Another day, they met for lunch at the lodge after he skied. She kept pointing out pretty girls to him, and then she discreetly showed him a handful of attractive young skiers, whom she felt he should be with instead of her.
“They're fourteen years old for chrissake. Are you trying to get me arrested?” They were both laughing again.
“They are not! They're twenty-five if they're a day,” she said, pretending to look outraged.
“Same thing.” But even the thirty-year-olds didn't appeal to him. He was happy with Alex. But he never put the make on her, or made her feel uncomfortable. And they talked about Sam a lot. She admitted to him how much it had hurt her when she saw him with the girl at Ralph Lauren.
“I think I'd probably have killed him. Or her,” Brock said, but Alex only shook her head.
“There's no point. It's over. It's not her fault. It just happened. And I guess when I look at myself in the mirror now, I understand it.”
“That's bullshit.” He got angry when she said things like that. “What if it had happened to him? If he'd lost an arm, or a leg, or a testicle? Would you have cashed him in?”
“No. But we're different. And I guess this … is a symbol of femininity. I'm not sure a lot of men weather this well.