Free A Seahorse in the Thames by Susan Meissner Page A

good time to come? Has she been looking for a reason? And what is this something she needs to tell me? What kind of something? Is it bad news? Is she sick? Maybe she is engaged. My head is reeling.
    “Alexa, are you there?”
    “Yes!” I finally say. “Are you serious? Priscilla, are you really thinking of coming?”
    “Is that all right?”
    “Oh, Priscilla, that would mean the world to me. And Mom, too. I know it would mean a lot to Mom.” I don’t mention Dad’s name. “Especially with what has happened with Rebecca.”
    “I can’t stay longer than a week, Lex, no matter what happens with Rebecca. You understand that, don’t you?”
    “Of course. If you can’t, you can’t.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to say ‘if you won’t, you won’t,’ but I don’t want to say anything to break the spell. “Can you tell me what it is you want to tell me? I’m not sure I can wait.”
    “I think it’s best you find out when I get there.”
    “Priscilla, is it—”
    “It’s nothing that will rock your world, Lex. Don’t fuss over it, all right?”
    “Okay.”
    “I have some vacation time coming to me and I need to take or I’ll lose it. I’ll see if I can get a flight out tomorrow evening. That would get me in Monday sometime. Would that work? If you can’t get to the airport I can rent a car.”
    “Of course it will work!” I exclaim. “I’ll take another week of sick leave. I will come for you, don’t worry about that.”
    “And Lexie, I want to stay in a hotel this time. I don’t want to stay with Mom.”
    I don’t want to consider what aversion Priscilla has to staying with Mom. I can think about that later. But I don’t want Priscilla staying in a hotel, either.
    “Please stay with me,” I reply. “Please, Pris?”
    “Lex, you have a one-bedroom apartment. Don’t be silly.”
    “But I have a queen-size bed. And I have a sofa bed in the living room. I can sleep in the living room and you can have the bedroom. Please, Priscilla! Please? Please stay with me.”
    She hesitates for a moment like she is making a huge decision. I don’t see what the big deal is.
    “All right.”
    “Great. It will be better than staying in a hotel, you’ll see.”
    “I’ll email you tomorrow when I know the flight number. But right now it’s late and I want to go to bed.”
    “Okay!”
    “And Lexie, don’t worry yourself to death over Rebecca. Worry won’t fetch her back.”
    “I’ll try not to.”
    “And don’t fret over falling in love with a man who might have cancer. If you really have fallen in love with him, and I mean really fallen in love with him, well, there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. You won’t be the first.”
    “The first?”
    “Lex, every man who has cancer has some woman in his life that loves him, even if it’s just his mother. So you would be no different than a million other women. There are worse things that loving a sick man.”
    “Oh really? Like what?” I say, challenging her.
    “Well, like loving an unfaithful man. Or an abusive man. Or a dishonest man. Or a heartless man. Want me to go on?”
    Priscilla the Sensible.
    “Okay, I see your point. I’ll try not to worry about either one.”
    “Right, then. See you soon.”
    “Goodbye, Priscilla.”
    We click off and I feel joy for the first time today.
    The feeling empowers me to run a brush through my hair and freshen my make-up in preparation to see Stephen.
    The sick man I am in love with.

Six
    A s I retrace my steps to Stephen’s hospital room, I find myself mentally wrestling with Priscilla’s words: There are worse things than loving a sick man.
    I really do know that she is right.
    I know it is worse to love a man who beats you, or who lies to you or who ignores you.
    And I suppose it’s also worse to have no one to love at all. I already know what that is like. I’ve been living that life for years.
    But the prospect of falling for a man who has a brain tumor scares me witless. And