Hope - Levy, Marc (web ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Hope moved over to her father and clasped his face between her hands.

“Dad? Everyone knows denial is the first symptom of a brain tumor. But you normally see it in the patient, not in the patient’s father.”

A key turned in the lock, and Josh burst in, breathless, freezing in his tracks when he saw Sam and Amelia.

“Surprise!” groaned Hope, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve got something to say to you,” Sam snarled. “That my daughter could be too thoughtless to call her dad under the circumstances is one thing. But you? The fact that you didn’t contact me is unforgivable.”

“Hello, sir,” Josh said curtly as he removed his jacket.

“Can everyone just calm down? I need calm more than anything else. Do you know where you’re staying tonight?” Hope turned to Amelia.

It turned out her would-be stepmother had booked a room in a hotel near the university. It took her a while, but she finally managed to convince Sam to leave his daughter to get some rest. She felt tired from the journey too. She made Hope agree that her father would take her to the hospital.

They hugged, Sam somewhat sheepishly, Amelia more exuberantly. Amelia winked at Hope, as if to reassure her that she was doing her best to contain her father’s moods.

Josh called them a cab and forced himself to escort them down to the sidewalk outside the apartment.

They waited for the car in silence.

Amelia hopped in the back, while Sam extended a hand for Josh to take. He thanked him for calling them, assuring him that the little trick they had played on Hope had worked beautifully.

Josh waved goodbye to the couple and went back upstairs, where Hope was waiting for him in bed. Slipping under the covers, he turned the light off. The pale-orange glow of the streetlights flooded the room.

“I guess the buddy system is more important than medical confidentiality for doctors, right? I should have guessed that Flinch wouldn’t just leave it at recommending one of his colleagues. He probably harassed the doctor until he needled out the truth.”

“It was me, Hope,” Josh confessed. “I don’t mind if you hate me for it. We couldn’t keep your dad in the dark. Remember when you were talking to me about having a son? Wouldn’t you want to know if he was sick? Wouldn’t you want to be there?”

“I said ‘kids.’ I never said ‘son.’”

“But I know we’ll have a son. I’m sure of it.”

“That’s epically sexist. If it’s all the same to you, let’s wait until we find out whether I need chemo before we start thinking about the end of the world. But look, I forgive you.”

“I’m not the least bit sexist.”

“I mean for calling my dad,” Hope murmured, before turning over.

Hope had the surgery three days later, at a quarter to eight in the morning. Despite the early hour, Sam and Josh had been granted permission to visit her room, hug her, and wish her good luck before the aides came to fetch her.

The strip lighting in the corridor raced by overhead. She counted thirty-seven fixtures and decided that if she could remember that number when she woke up after the surgery, it would mean there would be no ill effects.

When they laid her out on the table, she was struck by the coldness of the operating room.

The anesthetist reminded her that she would be put under for only a short time, and that when she reopened her eyes, she needed to stay calm, remember to follow the surgeon’s instructions, and make every effort to reply to his questions. If she couldn’t talk, all she had to do was blink once for yes and twice for no. Everything was going to be fine, he reassured her. She was in good hands. Berger was the best doctor he knew.

But Hope didn’t hear the end of the sentence. As the anesthetist spoke the words, he injected her with propofol, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Five hours later, Hope came out of the operating room. Although she had been awake for most of the procedure, all that remained in her mind was a blurry memory. Hope could have sworn the operation hadn’t taken as long as all that, but her family, who had been waiting for her in the hospital hall, said it had taken twice as long as she thought.

Dr. Berger was right: her migraine had vanished, and although Hope was exhausted, she felt good, all things considered.

When Josh came into the room, he found Hope sitting there in a white muslin cap.

“Thirty-seven!” she cried when she saw him, which worried Josh a little. “It’s just my way of showing you I haven’t lost my mind. I’ll explain later.”

Josh took her hand and told her to get some rest, and Hope obeyed. He dragged the chair over to the window, closer to the bed, and sat back to wait.

That day, he left her side only twice to allow Sam and then Luke the chance to sit with her for a while.

He turned down the invitation to join Sam and Amelia for dinner, preferring to eat with Luke. As they dug into their Chinese food, Josh told him what the surgeon had said.

Half of the tumor had been removed. Excising any more would have put Hope at risk of serious aftereffects. According to Dr. Berger, radiotherapy and chemotherapy now offered her the best chances of recovery. Sam’s face had told Josh all he needed to know. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Josh asked Luke if he could sleep on the couch. He didn’t feel strong enough to spend the night alone in the big empty loft.

Hope spent two weeks in the hospital and asked Josh to visit her only in the afternoons. She wanted him to keep up with his classes in the mornings and to continue his research with Luke at the Center in the evenings. She also begged Amelia to take her father back to California.