A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber Page 0,87
I were in a waiting area when John came out of her room with tears glistening in his eyes.
At that moment, I realized. It was over. There was no hope. Harper was lost to us. As hard as it was, I knew I had no choice, I had to accept it. While she’d been barely conscious, I’d still held out hope, riding a roller coaster of optimism that even at this point there was a chance she’d survive.
John knelt down in front of us and took both of my hands in his. It took him a moment to compose himself before he was able to speak.
“Harper’s blood counts have drastically dropped.”
He didn’t need to tell me this wasn’t good. “They can go back up, can’t they?” My words were full of angst, of hope, desperation.
“Willa,” Dad said, his voice soft and gentle. “It’s time to let her go.”
“No,” I sobbed. “Please, no.”
“Willa.” John’s voice cracked as he said my name. “She’s ready. All she needs now is for you to give her permission. She loves you, and she doesn’t want to disappoint you. It’s you who’s keeping her hanging on. For her sake as well as your own, let her go.”
I frantically shook my head. “I can’t…I can’t…” My heart was pounding so hard and fast it felt like it would explode through my chest.
“Willa.” It was Dad again. Tears filled his eyes and he wiped his forearm beneath his nose as he sucked in a harsh breath. “Harper needs you. Give her this. Let her rest in peace. She needs you to help her to do that.”
“I don’t think I can,” I said, weeping.
“No, Willa, you can…You must. It’s time.” Dad’s voice was gentle yet strong, determined. “You did everything you could. You’ve carried this weight around ever since we lost your mother. It’s time to give it up. I’m here. Lucas and Chantelle are here. We’re all with you; you don’t need to do this alone any longer.”
The tension in my chest was tight, so tight I found it hard to breathe.
John’s hands increased the pressure around mine. “She wants to see you, then your dad, then Lucas and Chantelle.” His voice trembled when he added, “I don’t believe she has much longer.”
Unable to remain seated, I stood and started to pace. I pressed my fingertips against my lips, as if they could hold back the sadness and grief that threatened to overwhelm me.
“I’ll go in with you,” Dad offered. “If you want.”
I nodded, and his hand was at the small of my back, guiding me to the door. We stood in front of it for a long moment. “I don’t know that I can do this,” I whispered, hardly able to find my voice.
“You can,” Dad assured me. “You’re the strongest woman I know.”
Strong? Me? I was falling apart inside, my heart so heavy I could barely function.
Dad cupped my shoulders and I leaned against him, convinced I would have collapsed without his tight hold on me.
“Your sister needs you, Willa. I’ve never known you to disappoint Harper, and you won’t, especially now.”
His words gave me courage, more than I thought I had. As if my arm weighed two tons, I lifted it and slid open the glass door that led to the little sister who was so much a part of me. My best friend. My roommate. My lifelong companion. My very heart. We had been through everything together.
When we entered the room, Harper opened her eyes to look at me.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” Dad said as we approached the bed. “You gave it all you had. I love you so much. You fought the good fight. You’re near the finish line now.”
She blinked to let him know she’d heard him and did her best to smile.
“When you see her, you tell your mother I have always loved her. It’s taken me longer than it should have to learn to live without her. I know she’ll forgive me for being weak. Be sure and tell her I’m much better now.”
I remembered when we stood at Mom’s grave site and Harper mentioned how she’d felt Mom’s presence with her when she’d been close to death after she developed leukemia. It left me to wonder if she’d felt our mother at her side this time, and I suspected she did.
Harper’s smile widened ever so slightly. “Love you, Dad,” she whispered.