you mean, ‘all the time’?” She looked shocked as she looked at him. “This happened yesterday, and I've seen you twice in two days for less than an hour each time, I wouldn't say we've spent a lot of time on this.”
“I don't think ‘we' should have to. It's something you're going to have to deal with and work out.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“I can't help you, Alex. You have to help yourself.”
“I'll remember that.”
“I'm sorry you're so angry,” he said quietly, which only made her madder.
“So am I.” They sat quietly for a few more minutes and then Sam stood up, and looked at her uncomfortably.
“I guess I should go home to Annabelle. It's getting late, and I promised her I'd come home for dinner.” Alex felt him slipping out of her grasp, and it panicked her. She had said none of the right things to him to elicit his sympathy, and he hadn't said anything right either. She was angry at him for not being there for her. He hadn't been there when she woke up from the surgery, or when they'd told her she'd lost her breast and had cancer, and he hadn't been there all day today. He'd been out with Simon and his clients, at fancy restaurants, making deals and being important. And he didn't seem to understand any of what she was feeling. He didn't understand how shaky she was, or how scared, how unsure of herself suddenly, or of his love for her. And it was too easy for him to just say that one breast or two was unimportant. It was important to her. She cared about how she looked to him, and she cared desperately about whether or not he loved her, and he wasn't saying anything to convince her that he would love her no matter what. In fact, he was reserving judgment to see how it affected him when he saw what it looked like. She was still furious when he left, and she noticed that he kissed her on the forehead again, instead of the lips, as though he was suddenly afraid to touch her.
She sat in her room and cried again that night. She didn't even bother walking down the hall, or calling Annabelle, and she didn't call Sam either. She just wanted to be left alone, and she had her back to the door, when it opened and she heard someone come in. She assumed it was the nurse, and she didn't turn to see. She just sat in her chair and kept on crying.
She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and for a wild moment, she thought it might be Sam, but when she looked up, she was startled to see Elizabeth Hascomb. “Did you come to visit me?” Alex asked her, surprised to see her.
“Yes, I did,” she explained, “but I didn't know it was you until tonight,” suddenly feeling as though she was intruding, but that was just what she needed to do, and she knew it. “I work for the breast surgery support group here, twice a week, and you were on the visiting list tonight when I got here. The card said A. Parker … I couldn't believe it. I asked to be assigned to see if it was you. I hope you don't mind, Alex,” she said gently, and then she put her arms around her like a mother and brought tears to her employer's eyes. “Oh Alex …I'm so sorry …” Alex couldn't even speak for a while, she just sat in Liz's arms and sobbed. She couldn't hold up anymore, there were so many fears and terrors and disappointments to deal with. “I know … I know …just cry …you'll feel better.”
“I'm never going to feel better again,” Alex said miserably, looking at her through her tears, and Liz smiled.
“Yes, you will. It's hard to believe now, but you will. We've all been through it.”
“You too?” Alex was surprised, she didn't know that about Liz.
“I've had both breasts removed,” she explained, “years ago. I wear a prosthesis. But they do wonderful reconstructive work now. At your age you should think about that. Not yet though,” she said gently. She seemed so wise and loving, and Alex was so relieved that Liz had come to see her.
“I have to have chemotherapy.” Alex started to cry harder again and Liz sat and held her hand, grateful she had found her. She had never suspected what Alex was going through, although