Free For Better, for Worse, Forever by Lurlene McDaniel Page B

her family had sneaked away, leaving him with a hundred unanswered questions. The hibiscus bush next to the porch had been picked clean, all the flowers gone, the leaves shining green in the sun. He knew she’d taken them with her. But he also realized that she’d taken much more than the rich red and pink flowers. She’d also taken his heart.

11

    J uly in New York was just as hot, humid, and sticky as April remembered. In the past, during the sweltering days, her family had taken vacations into the mountains or to Europe. Except for last year, when she’d been with Mark and hadn’t wanted to go anywhere he didn’t go. The city felt oppressive to her now, teeming with people in a hurry—a shock to her system after the easygoing atmosphere of St. Croix. Even her childhood home seemed uninviting. Her parents had called ahead to have it opened and aired, but musty odors from having been shut up for months still lingered. Her room had been cleaned and fresh linen put on her bed, but she missed looking out at the sea, missed thearoma of tropical flowers and salt-tinged air, and as much as she hated to admit it, she missed Brandon too. In short, she didn’t want to be back home.
    On Wednesday morning the three of them headed into the city for the hospital and the rounds of testing she didn’t want to face. Two days later, as they sat in Dr. Sorenson’s office, April felt drained and, like a child in a cruel mazelike game, right back at square one—the place she’d started from more than eighteen months before.
    Dr. Sorenson was as pleasant as ever, exactly as she remembered him, but he looked preoccupied, more reserved than in past visits. He placed the MRI films on the light board and drew a circle around the now-familiar dense glob pressing against her cerebellum. “It’s growing again,” he said matter-of-factly, his voice tinged with sadness.
    Deep down, it was nothing she hadn’t known, but seeing it on the film, hearing him state the obvious, made her suck in her breath. His actual words gave finality to her situation. It closed doors.
    “So where do we go from here?” her father asked sharply, after a moment of silence.
    Of course, they’d been all through her options before she’d ever left for St. Croix: She had none. The tumor was too aggressive for treatments, too large for gamma knife surgery.
    “I wish I had better news for you,” Dr. Sorenson said now, picking his words carefully.
    “Then this is it, isn’t it?” April asked boldly, suddenly wanting to get everything settled once and for all. “There’s really nothing else you can do for me, is there?” Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them out.
    “You’ve had two rounds of radiation—the maximum—and chemotherapy won’t touch this type of tumor. I’m sorry, April.”
    “Her mother and I won’t accept that.” Her father struck his fist on the edge of the doctor’s desk. “I have money. There are other doctors. Other hospitals.”
    “Your daughter’s prognosis won’t change. You can spend thousands, hundreds of thousands; it won’t make a difference.”
    “Experimental drugs,” her father shouted.
“Something.”
    April recoiled. She didn’t want to be somebody’s lab experiment.
    “If there was anything on the medical horizon to help your daughter, I would have suggested it. Certainly there are quacks in the world, Mr. Lancaster. There are many people who promise cures but can’t deliver them. Many charlatans who’ll take your money, make April suffer, but not cure her.”
    “So you’re saying we just have to abandon hope? We won’t, sir. We can’t.”
    “Oh, Hugh …,” April’s mother cried. “Do something. Please.”
    April stood. The last time the doctor had tried to close the door on her hope she’d shouted at him too, and then had run from his office, refusing to listen to any more grim news. And she’d gone on to have a few wonderful months with Mark, followed by spring and most of the