While My Sister Sleeps (7 page)

Molly loved King Proteas, too. As exotic flowers went, they were gorgeous. But Snow Hill was only as good as its suppliers, and this supplier had sent bad flowers once, the wrong flowers another time, and no flowers at all the third time Snow Hill had placed an order. In each instance, clients had been disappointed. No, there were other exotics Liz Tocci could use.

But how stupid was it to be worried about Liz when Robin was comatose?

Unable to spend another second thinking, Molly set to ordering for the functions. But she wasn't in a wedding mood. So she focused on Christmas. It was time to preorder. Last year,
they had sold out of poinsettias and had to rush to restock at a premium cost. She wanted plenty at wholesale this year.

How many hundreds to order—three, four? Eight-inch pots, ten-inch, twelve-inch? And how many of each size to upgrade to ceramic pots?

She struggled with the decisions, but came up short. She was about as interested in poinsettias as she was in moving. Digging up her landlord Terrance Field's phone number, she punched it in. “Hey, Mr. Field,” she said when the old man picked up, “it's Molly Snow. How are you?”

“Not bad,” he replied warily. “What is it now, Molly?”

“My sister's had an accident. It's pretty serious. This time I really do need an extension.”

“You said that last time, too. When was that, a week ago?”

“That was a problem with the moving company, Mr. Field, and I did work it out. This is different.” In the space of a breath, she realized that her argument was lame without the truth. “Robin had a heart attack.”

There was a pause, then a gently chiding, “Am I truly supposed to believe that?”

“She collapsed while she was running. They say there's brain damage. She's in critical condition. Call Dickenson-May. They'll verify it.”

After another pause came a sigh. “I'll take your word for it, Molly, but I'm over a barrel here. You promised to be out Monday, and my contractor is starting Tuesday. I've paid him a hefty deposit to work quickly, because if the house isn't ready for the realtor to show by the first of November, selling will be difficult. I need that money.”

Molly knew his realtor. She was an old family friend. “Dorie McKay will understand,” she pleaded, “and she's totally persuasive
. She can work things out with the contractor. All I want is an extra week or two.”

But Terrance didn't budge. “It isn't the contractor, Molly. It's me. First of December, my rent is tripling. The building is going condo. If I don't sell in Hanover, I can't buy here in Jupiter, and I can't afford the triple rent.”

Molly might have begged—just
one
extra day?
two
extra days?—but one or two days wouldn't make a difference, not with Robin breathing through that god-awful respirator.

Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't do the packing. Robin wouldn't have done much anyway, and they did have a place to go. Molly just didn't want to move. Despite all the natural beauty in the area, Snow Hill being the least of it, there was a special charm to the cottage. She loved driving down the lane and parking under the oak, loved walking in and smelling aged wood. The house made her feel good. It would be nice to stay a while longer, especially with Robin's future in doubt.

One thing was for sure: Robin would be neither conducting a clinic that afternoon nor talking with sixth graders on Friday. Molly began with the Friday call, knowing that a Phys Ed teacher, who was less personally involved, would accept a cancellation more easily than a running group would. And she was right. When she explained that Robin was sick, the teacher was disappointed but understanding. The head of the running group was another story. Jenny Fiske knew Robin personally and was concerned.

When she asked what was wrong, Molly couldn't get herself to blame the flu. “She had some trouble yesterday during a long run. They're doing tests now.”

“Is it her heel again?”

That would have been the recent bone spur incident. But a bone spur wouldn't keep Robin from meeting with a running
group. Robin
adored
meeting with running groups. She would have gone on crutches, if need be. No, for her to cancel out on a running group would take something serious. Molly tried to come up with a possibility. Pneumonia? Stomach cramps? Migraines? Lasting for
weeks?

Finally she just said, “It's something with her heart.”

“Oh God, the enlarged heart thing. She was hoping it would go away.”

Molly paused. “What do you mean?”

“I don't think she meant to tell me, but we were together last year when the news reported autopsy results on a guy who died during the Olympic marathon trials. He had an enlarged heart. It was totally tragic. I mean, he was only twenty-eight. Robin was saying how scary it was, because she has the same thing.”

That was news to Molly. It would be news to her parents. But Robin told Kathryn everything. If she had known something like that and hidden it from her mother for the sake of glory, it would be awful!

“Is that the problem?” Jenny asked.

“Uh …uh …”

“Is she all
right?
”

Oh, yes
, her mother would have wanted her to say. But it was a lie, possibly compounded now by Robin's lie. Angry at her sister, and at her mother, who
reveled
in the glory of parenting a world-class runner, Molly blurted out, “Actually, she's not. She hasn't regained consciousness.”

“Omigod! Is she at Dickenson-May?”

“Yes.”

“In the ICU?”

Starting to worry, Molly backpedaled. “Yeah, but will you kind of… not tell people, Jenny? We don't know where this is headed.”

OLLY KEPT AN EYE OUT FOR CHRIS. THE MINUTE
he returned to Snow Hill, she was in his office. “Did you hear anything last year about Robin having an enlarged heart?”

He shook his head. “Who says she did?”

“Jenny Fiske. She implied Robin knew there was a problem and ignored it.”

“You told her Robin had a heart problem?” he asked.

Molly grew defensive. “I had to. And anyway, it's ridiculous keeping this to ourselves when there are friends who really care.”

“Mom will be pissed.”

She threw a hand up. “Oh, well, what else is new? I can never say the right thing when it comes to Mom. Lately it's Nick.” She had met Nick Dukette two years earlier on the sidelines of one of Robin's races. Nick had been there as a newspaper reporter, Molly as a fan, but they started talking and hadn't stopped. Since then, he had briefly dated Robin, and though it
hadn't worked out, Molly and he remained friends. Kathryn had nothing good to say about the man. “She's been after me for even meeting him for coffee. But I knew him first. So just because Robin breaks up with him,
I
have to stop being his friend? He is
not
an evil man.”

“He's media.”

“He was media when he was dating Robin, and Mom wasn't against him then. Wouldn't Robin have spilled more inside information than I have, or is it just that Mom thinks I'm stupidly naïve? What did I do to make her distrust me? By the way, Dad agrees with us about the EEG. If anyone can convince Mom to have it done, it's him.”

“Y'think?”

“Definitely. She may be the leader, but he's smart. He doesn't have to raise his voice, and she listens.”

“Ex
act
ly,” Chris said with uncharacteristic feeling. “He's a
quiet
force.”

Molly was feeling sensitive enough about her mother to take his sudden show of passion personally. “And I'm not? Is that what you're saying? I'm
sorry
, but I can't
not
express my feelings.”

“Maybe the problem is how you do it. Maybe you should lower the volume.”

“But that's not me. You inherited quietness from Dad. I didn't.”

“Could you be married to a guy like him?”

Molly wasn't thinking of marriage just then, but since he had asked, she answered. “In a minute. I'm like Mom. I need someone to calm me.”

“Wouldn't you find it boring? Dad comes home from work and doesn't say much.”

“But he's always there.” She had a sudden thought. “Do you
think Mom and Dad knew about the enlarged heart and kept it secret?”

Chris snorted. “Go ask.”

Molly considered that for all of two seconds before saying, “I will.” She wanted to be at the hospital anyway.

“SO
Molly will box everything up and take care of the move,” Kathryn told Robin. “It's perfect that you two share a place. Molly's a great backup person for when you're away. And even now, she'll keep your friends up on what's happening until we get rid of this stupid tube—” Catching a breath, she came out of her chair.

Charlie was quickly by her side.

“Did you see that?” Kathryn asked excitedly. “Her other hand. It moved.”

“Are you sure? There's a lot of tape on that hand.”

Kathryn's heart raced. “Did you do that, Robin? If you did, I want you to do it again.”

She stared at the hand.

“Come on, sweetie,” she ordered. “I know it's hard, but you're used to hard stuff. Think what it's like at that twenty-first mile when you hit the wall and feel dizzy and weak, and you're sure you can't finish. But you always do. You always manage to dredge up a little more strength.” The respirator breathed in, breathed out, but not a finger moved. “Do it now, Robin,” she begged. “Let me know you can hear me speak.” She waited, then tried, “Think of the games you play. When you run, you imagine that long, smooth stride. Imagine it now, sweetie. Imagine the pleasure you get from
moving.
”

Nothing happened.

Brokenly, she whispered, “Am I missing it, Charlie?”

“If you are, I am, too.”

Discouraged, she sank back into the chair and brought Robin's hand to her mouth. Her fingers were limp and cool. “I know I saw something,” she breathed against them, wanting only to keep them warm.

“You're exhausted,” Charlie said.

She looked at him sharply. “Are you saying I
imagined
it? Maybe your problem is that you don't
want
to see it as much as I do.”

There was a pause, then a quiet, “Low blow.”

Kathryn had known that the instant the words left her mouth. With his warm hazel eyes, shoulders that were broader in theory than fact, and a loyalty like none she had seen in any other person before or since, Charlie had been there for her from the start. The fact that she could accuse him of less showed how stressed she was.

Stressed? She wasn't stressed. She was
devastated.
Seeing Robin like this was
killing
her, and that was even before she thought of the long-term meaning. This wasn't just a setback. It was a
catastrophe.

Charlie understood. She could see it on his face, but that didn't excuse what she'd said. Slipping an arm around his waist, she buried her face in his chest. “I'm sorry. You did not deserve that.”

He cupped her head. “I can take it. But Molly can't. She's trying, Kath. None of us expected this.” His hand lowered to massage her neck at just the spot where she needed it most.

Kathryn looked up, haunted. “Did I push Robin too far?”

He smiled sadly. “You didn't have to push. She pushed herself.”

“But I've always egged her on.”

“Not egged. Encouraged.”

“If I hadn't, maybe she wouldn't have pushed so hard.”

“And never run a marathon in record time? Never traveled the country inspiring others? Never eyed the Olympics?”

He was right. Robin lived life to the fullest. But that knowledge didn't ease Kathryn's fear. “What are we going to do?”

“Ask for an EEG.”

Her panic shot up. “What if it shows no activity?”

“What if it doesn't?”

Charlie was the face of quiet confidence. Always. And she loved him for it. But this was too soon. “I can't take the risk. Not yet.”

“Okay,” he said gently. “Then what about friends? They can't get through to you, so they're calling me. We need to tell them the truth.”

“We don't know the truth.”

He chided her with a sad smile. “You aren't asking to have her transferred, which tells me that you accept the MRI results.”