Free A Seahorse in the Thames by Susan Meissner Page B

yet according to Priscilla, if I have indeed fallen for Stephen, then there’s little I can do to reverse it. You can’t fall back up. You can only fall down. You can climb out of something but I’m not sure I would know where to start, where to look for the first foothold. My life has become increasingly complicated. I don’t even know which direction is up .
    I decide to brace myself for bad news. I pretend as I walk that I already know the outcome of Stephen’s CT. If it has revealed nothing, then I will be in for a nice surprise. It’s better to imagine the worst than to be upended by it.
    The door to his room is half-open, like yesterday. I knock softly and his voice reaches me.
    “Come in.”
    The first thing I notice is that Ivy’s chair is empty. Then I see Stephen, sitting up in his bed. Above and across from him, the TV is turned to ESPN with the sound off. His leg and arm are again elevated by pillows and lying open across his chest, pages down, is a Bible.
    “Hey.” He offers a smile.
    “Hi.” I come to his side. My eyes are drawn to the Bible on his chest.
    “You okay, Alexa?”
    I don’t know how he knows I’ve had a difficult day, but my demeanor must give it all away.
    “Oh, I had a crazy morning, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it. Besides I came to see how you are.”
    “Is everything all right? What happened?” He ignores my reason for coming in the nicest way possible.
    “We don’t have to talk about me, Stephen.”
    “Is it about the roof? Did my friend not show up?”
    “No, no, he came. And he brought friends. The roof is done. And they took your truck. I suppose they drove it home for you.”
    “Oh, good. Sit down, Alexa. Please.”
    I take the chair that Ivy was sitting in yesterday. It’s pulled close to his bed. I leave it there as I fold my body into it. “Your mom isn’t here?”
    “I sent her down to the cafeteria to get something to eat.”
    “Oh. Okay.”
    “So what happened this morning?” He is delaying talking about himself. Perhaps it is best.
    So I tell him everything. That Rebecca has disappeared. That my parents don’t seem that concerned. That Priscilla has decided to come home for a visit after a four-year absence and that she has something to tell me. I don’t tell him about Rebecca’s note, nor that I think I’ve fallen in love with a man who may have a brain tumor.
    “So are you going to try and find Rebecca yourself?” He asks like it is not the most ridiculous idea he’s ever heard. I don’t feel foolish answering him.
    “Well, I’m thinking that maybe she left clues to what she was planning in her room. A note, a scrap of paper. Something .
    “It’s a good idea,” he says. “Worth a try, anyway.”
    I am about to murmur my thanks for his not making light of my plan when he continues, “So you must be pretty excited that Priscilla is coming.”
    “Yes. Yes, I am. I miss being with her. I have learned to ignore how much by concentrating on my job and caring for Rebecca, but I do miss her. She’s… she’s like the half of me that makes sense of things. She’s always been the wise one.”
    “Well, I hope you have a wonderful visit. And I hope whatever news she has to tell you is happy news,” Stephen says, and immediately his countenance seems to fall a bit.
    He has news to share, too.
    I think he senses that I know already it is not happy news.
    “So you had the MRI.”
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    “The tumor is back.”
    I let the words penetrate my mind, my heart.
    “So what does that mean?” Despite my resolve to be brave, my voice quavers a bit. He notices the tiny shift in my voice. I can see in his eyes that he notices.
    “Well, the last time doctors were able to remove most of it. Radiation took care of what they couldn’t.” Stephen says every word carefully and methodically. “This time surgery isn’t an option. The tumor has attached itself to a place where surgery isn’t safe. So it will mean heavy