Danielle Steel - Lightning

“A little bit,” Alex said honestly, “we have to be a little bit careful we don't bump it.”

“Did you cry?” She nodded, and instinctively looked up at Carmen, whose eyes filled with tears when she saw her. She reached out and gently touched Alex's arm, and the gesture touched Alex deeply. Annabelle ran to her room then to get her doll, and Carmen scolded her.

“Why didn't you tell me, Mrs. Parker? Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she said flatly. It was clearly her breast, but Carmen still didn't know the full extent of the damage, although she had already guessed it from the shape of Alex's profile.

Annabelle came bounding back into the room, carrying three dolls and a book, and she was full of tales from ballet and school, and she had made a drawing for her, and could hardly wait for Halloween. There was going to be a parade at school, and Katie Lowenstein was giving a party. She had a thousand news items to share, and Alex suddenly wondered how she had survived five whole days without her. Just seeing her brought her back to life, and gave her something to fight for.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Parker?” Carmen asked her repeatedly while the two played on Alex's bed, and she brought her a cup of tea and a chicken sandwich, and urged her to eat it. And although she wasn't hungry, she remembered Liz's words about building up her strength, and she forced herself to eat it. Liz called that afternoon, to see how she was doing at home, and she was happy to hear Alex sounding so much better. Annabelle had improved her spirits immeasurably, but later, when she took off her dressing gown because she was warm, she noticed that Annabelle shied away from her a little bit. The dressing scared her. Quietly, Alex put her dressing gown back on and reminded herself not to let Annabelle see the bandage more than she had to. In some ways, Sam was right. She didn't have to make it their problem, and she didn't intend to. She needed their love and their support, but the one thing she didn't want was their pity, or to scare them. In some ways, Sam was just as skittish as their daughter.

Late that afternoon, Carmen came to take Annabelle for her bath, and she asked to bathe with her mother instead, in the marble tub, with her Mommy's fancy bubbles.

“You can take a bath in my tub, sweetheart, with my bubbles. But I can't get my big Band-Aid wet till next week.” In the hospital, they had been putting a big garbage bag over it when she took a shower. “You go ahead and take a bath without me. Okay?” Annabelle agreed, as Alex glanced at the clock. It was five, and she had thought that Sam said he would come home early. But Alex knew Friday afternoons were always long for him. It was always hard, wrapping up all the loose ends before the weekend.

As it turned out, Sam was at his office taking care of the details of his latest deal, but he was also stalling.

“Still hard at work?” Daphne asked casually as she glanced into his office at five-fifteen. She was just leaving for the weekend herself. She and Simon were going to Vermont with friends from England. Everyone had told them about the remarkable turning of the leaves, and Daphne had insisted she wanted to see it.

“It's beautiful,” Sam confirmed, wishing he were going with her. He ran a hand through his hair, and looked somewhat grim. He knew it was time to go home, but he'd been dreading it. The tension with Alex was palpable, and even Annabelle wouldn't ease it.

“What about you? Are you doing something fun?” she asked, hating to leave him. He looked so sad and so alone, as though he had no place to go, and didn't want to leave the office.

“Not really. My wife just came home from the hospital. I think we'll be taking it pretty easy.”

“I'm sorry, Sam,” she said softly, as their eyes met dangerously again and he smiled gently.

“Thanks, Daphne. Have fun. I'll see you on Monday.” She nodded, wanting to walk across the room and put her arms around him, but he looked so serious she didn't dare. Instead, she just watched him for a moment, and then blew him a kiss and left the room, wishing she could spend the weekend with him and not Simon and their friends from England.

And at five-thirty, he ran out of excuses. He put on his coat, and went downstairs, and walked a few blocks before taking a cab home. He was home before six, and Alex looked up at him in surprise when she saw him. She had been playing with Annabelle and reading her a story. Carmen was making dinner for them, and she had insisted that she wanted to stay for the weekend.

“Hi. How was your day?” She tried to sound casual, but he looked awkward with her, and when he answered, he sounded like a stranger.

“Fine. Sorry I'm late, it was a crazy afternoon.”

“No problem. I kept busy with Annabelle. We had a great time.”

They all had dinner at the table in the kitchen, and Annabelle talked more than either of them. And much to Alex's surprise, she didn't seem to sense the tension between her parents. She was so happy to have her mother home, she was flying high and full of funny stories and jokes and new songs, and unintelligible tales about her friends. It was a lively dinner. And then they put her to bed, and Carmen cleaned up the kitchen. But when Alex and Sam went to their own room, suddenly the conversation ran dry and she didn't know what to say to him, and he seemed to have nothing at all to say to her. He looked tired and distracted.

“Everything okay at work?” she asked, wondering why he was so nervous.

“Fine.” But he couldn't ask her the same thing. She hadn't been to her office all week. Everything she knew was about her illness.

He turned on the television, and sought refuge in it, and eventually he fell asleep, as Alex watched him. She was drained from the emotions of coming home to them, but she was glad she was here. She just didn't know what to do with Sam. But Liz had reassured her again, when she called her that afternoon, and told her to be patient. She said she'd had the same problems with her husband at first too, the awkwardness, the fears about her illness, the resentment too, but eventually he had adjusted.

Sam woke up after the late news, stirred, and looked up at her, as though surprised to see her there next to him, and then, without a word, he went to change into his pajamas. She had already bathed as best she could, and changed her nightgown again, and then she'd put on a bed jacket so the dressing wouldn't upset him. But when he came back to her after he'd showered, which seemed an eternity to her, he seemed to hesitate before coming back to bed again.

He was suddenly afraid of her, as though she might taint him with her problem. She wanted so much from him, and he just didn't know how much he had to give her. His own inadequacy frightened him more than anything. It was easier not to be around her.

“Is something wrong?” She looked at him, confused. It was as though he wasn't sure if he should sleep with her. But with Carmen in the guest room, there were no other options.

“I …would it be …will I hurt you if I sleep here?” Suddenly she couldn't help smiling at him. He looked so uncomfortable in his own skin, and so ill at ease with her. It was tragic in a way, except that it had made her feel both sad and angry. And yet she felt for him too. He looked so awkward.

”You won't hurt me unless you hit me over the head with your shoe. Why?” She tried to pretend that everything was normal, but they both knew it wasn't.

“I just thought maybe …if I rolled over … or touched you …” He was treating her like a piece of glass instead of a woman, and he seemed to go from one extreme to the other. One minute he wanted to pretend there was no problem at all, and the next he wanted to go to the ends of the earth to avoid her. It was more than a little distressing.