was already a foregone conclusion. She had cancer, the breast was coming off, and she was going to have chemo. Maybe Sam was right and it was just a factory that lopped off boobs to pay the rent, but it was hard to believe that. From what Peter Herman said, it was a lot easier to believe she had a serious problem.
He wanted her to go to the hospital that weekend for blood tests and a chest X ray, and they had discussed the impossibility of her giving her own blood on such short notice. But he had told her that even radical mastectomies rarely required transfusions, and if need be, after the surgery, he would call her office to organize donor-specific blood, and other than that, there was nothing left to say, until Monday. He told her that he wanted to hear from her over the weekend if she discovered she wasn't pregnant, and she agreed to call him. And eventually, she left his office feeling wooden.
She went back to her office for the rest of the afternoon, and home to Annabelle and Sam for dinner that night, and only Carmen noticed how quiet and withdrawn she was. Alex didn't say anything to Sam about her visit to Dr. Herman, until later that night, but when she did, he was already half asleep, and he didn't even answer her, as she explained what the doctor had said to her. And when she looked over at Sam again, he was snoring softly.
She cleared her desk on Friday morning before noon, and Brock came by to pick up some files, and wish her luck the following week.
“I hope whatever it is works out, the way you want it.” He suspected what it might be, he had heard the word “biopsy” in one of her conversations. It was a word that struck fear in his heart, but he hoped that hers wouldn't be serious, and that she'd be back in the office quickly. She said a hasty good-bye to him, and then gave Liz her final instructions. She said she'd be calling in for messages, and she could send work to the house in a few days, if Alex wasn't back yet.
“Take care of yourself,” Liz said quietly, and then hugged her as Alex fought back tears, and then turned away so Liz wouldn't see them.
“You take care too, Liz. I'll see you soon,” she said, exuding a confidence she didn't feel, and then she cried all the way uptown in a cab, to pick up Annabelle at school. It was Friday and they had ballet to go to.
She took Annabelle out to lunch at Serendipity, and then they went straight to Miss Tilly's. Annabelle had never been happier. She was pleased that Alex was around again, and not “busy with the judge” anymore. Annabelle told her in no uncertain terms, over a hot fudge sundae, that she really didn't like that.
“I'll try not to do it more often than I have to.” Alex hadn't said anything to her about her trip to the hospital on Monday, and on Saturday she tried to talk to Sam about what they should say to her about it. She thought a business trip was the best idea, explaining that she was going to the hospital would be much too threatening.
“Don't even think of it,” Sam said, looking annoyed at her, “you'll be back by that afternoon, for heaven's sake.” As he said it, he looked edgy and sounded angry.
“I might not be,” she said quietly, upset that he was continuing to refuse to face the problem. He was clinging to denial. “I could end up there for a week if they do a mastectomy,” she said, trying to force herself, as well as Sam, to accept it, but he refused to hear it.
“Will you stop it? You're driving me crazy. What is this? Do you want sympathy, or what?” She had never seen him quite so frantic. It was as though she had touched a nerve, and she wondered suddenly if his anxiety had anything to do with his own memories about his mother. But whatever his reasons for avoiding her, he was making Alex even more nervous.
“Actually,” she finally turned on him, angry for the first time since it had all happened, “I want some support from you. This crazy routine of refusing to believe anything is happening isn't making it easier for me. Has it ever occurred to you that I need your