More Than Words: Stories of Courage Read online

  “I hear that,” Lucy said. “I read somewhere that the average family vacation has shrunk to four days a year.”

  Sophie placed her briefcase on the table. “So here’s my idea.” She pulled some brochures from her briefcase and placed them on the tiled tabletop. “I learned about this from a client of mine. It’s an organization they have in Canada, called Cottage Dreams. It was created so that cancer survivors could spend some time away with their families after treatment. It gives them a chance to recover and look to the future once again. Anyway, I wanted to tell you about it because even though we don’t have anything like this in the States, I had an inspiration. I started thinking what it would be like to be a host family. And I have a proposal to make you.”

  Miranda glanced at the information on the table. The glossy pictures of lakeside cottages looked impossibly romantic and remote.

  “Remember I mentioned that Greg’s family has a summer camp in the Catskills,” Sophie continued. “Camp Kioga, on Willow Lake. It’s been in the Bellamy family for years, and they renovated it last summer. There’s a perfect, perfect cottage that’s completely empty this time of year and I’ve asked the Bellamys if your family could use it for a week. They didn’t hesitate for an instant. They would love it if you’d come.”

  “Oh, good Lord, yes,” Lucy added. “It’s brilliant.”

  Sophie was never one to beat around the bush. “I think you and your family should do it as soon as possible. Greg’s family was wonderful when I asked them, and they really want you to use the cottage.”

  “It’s a great idea,” Lucy said. “Miranda, you finally got off the roller coaster. Just a week at this cottage could change your whole perspective.”

  Miranda felt a tug of yearning, as though something inside her signaled yes. There were a dozen things she could say—probably should say. “It sounds like heaven,” was what came out.

  Sophie and Lucy beamed at each other. Miranda knew then that this was a planned ambush. Her friends had intended all along to present this idea to her. She didn’t mind, though. The idea of a hideaway with her family seemed magical to her. But also…impossible.

  “…to JFK, and then you rent a car from there. It’s about a three-hour drive through some of the prettiest countryside you’ve ever seen,” Sophie was saying, and Miranda realized she had drifted off to the realm of fantasy. The mention of travel arrangements brought her crashing back to the real world.

  “Unfortunately that’s probably going to be a deal killer,” she confessed. She told herself that these were her two best friends; she could tell them anything. But still it pained her to admit that she and Jacob weren’t in such great shape financially. “Airfare for four makes it a bit too rich for my blood,” she confessed.

  “Hello?” Sophie gave a dry laugh of disbelief. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been commuting between New York and Seattle for months. I’ve got enough frequent-flier miles to fly a small army there and back.”

  “I couldn’t take—”

  “Maybe not,” Sophie interrupted. “But I can give.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would you do this?”

  “Because you’re my friend and I love you, and I know you’d do the same for me.”

  “But the Bellamys—they don’t even know me.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Sophie said, her expression softening. “It’s…um…I suppose they realize that it’s a fragile time for a family. Ours as well as yours.”

  Miranda nodded. What an enchanting, impossible idea. There was no way Jacob would ever go for it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A week away in the wilderness seemed like the most remote of possibilities for Miranda and her family. Yet the more she thought about her conversation with Sophie, the more she was convinced that this was what her family needed. Healing time away.

  It was so very simple, yet so vital. Miranda was already aware that recovering from this devastating illness was much more than just a physical process. There were emotional and spiritual components that were just as important. She also knew that being in a natural environment, far from everyday distractions, played a crucial role in healing, too.

  When she got home, she changed into dungarees and gum boots, and headed out into the garden. There was something that happened to her out here, digging in the dirt, working with her plants. She gained a sense of her own worth, felt a connection to the earth and to nature. Just being outside, breathing the air and contemplating the gardening chores ahead felt right.

  She didn’t make much headway before fatigue set in, but she refused to get discouraged. She had cleaned up a patch of earth, planted some cosmos seeds that would bloom in the spring, thrown a barrowful of clippings into the compost bin. It was enough. She felt satisfied. But…lonely.

  She welcomed the shush of the school-bus brakes at the corner bus stop. Valerie would be home in a few minutes. Miranda shook out her gloves and removed her boots, then went inside to fix their favorite snack—chips and salsa, and limeade to drink.

  “Hey, thanks,” Valerie said, putting down her backpack. “I’m starved.”

  They sat together at the counter, nibbling the chips. Miranda told Valerie about Sophie’s offer. “So what do you think?” she asked. “Can you see our family doing something like this?”

  Valerie laughed without humor. “Come on, Mom. You think the whole world is going to stop for a week while we go commune with nature?”

  “Maybe we’re the ones who need to stop, not the world.”

  “Dad’ll never go for it.”

  “I’m asking you. Would you go for it?”

  Valerie shrugged, putting on her I-don’t-care attitude, the one she’d worn for the past year. Then, keeping the blasé mask in place, she said, “Pete asked me to Homecoming.”

  A year ago, those exact words had elicited delight from both mother and daughter, because a year ago, cancer was a remote concept, not a real threat. Then came Miranda’s diagnosis, a bomb dropped on the unsuspecting family. Being sick had brought all Miranda’s deepest, fiercest mothering instincts to the surface. She’d wanted to protect her children at all costs. She’d even tried to reschedule her surgery so it wouldn’t coincide with her daughter’s first formal dance. The two surgical teams wouldn’t hear of it, though, and cancer had scored its first victory against her.

  Over the past year, everything they did and said to one another took on a special significance. Faced with the possibility of not seeing her children into adulthood, Miranda worked hard—too hard—to impart lessons or extract meaning from every possible situation. She caught herself working so hard at mothering that she forgot to enjoy her children.

  So now, when Valerie made her casual announcement, Miranda had to tamp down the urge to jump on the opportunity, insist that her daughter go this year. She restrained herself from marching Valerie to Pete’s house to accept the invitation.

  One of the things she had to avoid with her kids during the year of her illness was doing all the emotional work for them. Part of growing up was figuring out how to navigate their way through life on their own. And there, beneath the surface of that excellent parenting advice, was the unspoken terror: She had better teach them independence from her now, because she could be gone this time next year.

  With great care, she took a drink of her limeade and set down the glass. “Oh?” she asked. Just that. Nothing more.

  “I’m going to tell him no,” Valerie said.

  “So you haven’t given him an answer yet.”

  “I was just so…so shocked when he asked that I blurted out that I’d let him know. God. I should have told him no right then and there.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I will,” Valerie said softly. “I wanted to…think about it a little bit.” The expression on her daughter’s face said it all. She wanted to go to Homecoming, just like any girl her age.

  Before bed that night, Miranda felt inexplicably nervous with Jacob. Only tonight, it wasn’t about
making love. It was a terrible feeling in her stomach—the sense that she had drifted so far from him that he was now a stranger. He lay in bed, the pillows propped behind him as he tallied the last of the day’s sales.

  “Always working,” she said, leaning down to place a kiss on his head.

  He offered a distracted smile. “I don’t mind. You know that. How did your meeting with Marty go today?”

  She took a deep breath. “He was really nice, as always. Really understanding.”

  “So, did the two of you…” Jacob hesitated. It broke her heart, the way he resisted pressuring her.

  “Marty would be just as glad if I waited until next quarter. For budget reasons, he says.” She watched his face. Impulsively, she reached out, grazed the back of her hand along his cheek. “If you think that’s okay.”

  “Sure, honey.” There was not a single beat of hesitation in his reply, and she loved him for that. Then the worry moved in like clouds across the sun. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled. In the past year, she had learned that “all right” was a relative phrase. Sometimes “all right” meant her postsurgery drainage tubes were working properly. Other times it meant she had lost the last of her hair, or that the gel for her radiation burns was having a soothing effect.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “Better than all right after yesterday’s visit with Dr. Turabian.”

  He waited. “Yes?” he prompted, somehow knowing there was more.

  She got it out, all in a rush. “I want us to go away together, the four of us.”

  The worry darkened his face even more, but he quickly shook it off. “I guess we could drive down to the shore for a weekend—”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She told him about Sophie’s idea. “The Bellamy family has made an incredibly generous offer. They’ve got a cabin at a place called Willow Lake—”

  “Offer? God, Miranda. What are we, a charity case now?”

  She ached for him. Her proud husband. Sometimes, though, his pride blinded him to the bigger picture. “That’s not what this is about,” she said. “It’s not a handout.”

  “We don’t even know these people—”

  “We know Sophie. Jacob, there’s still so much we need to do. This past year has fractured our family. It’s devastated our finances and wrung out our emotions. All the pain of the surgery and treatment was nothing. I could deal with it. But I can’t deal with losing my family. Sometimes I think if I hurt any more, I’ll break into pieces.”

  He set aside his paperwork. “Honey, you’re not losing us.”

  “But everything’s changed. The kids, you and me, us. We need to do this,” she insisted. “It hit home yesterday, when I got back from my appointment. Just because I’ve finished treatment doesn’t mean all is well. This family’s been damaged, Jacob. It’s had its heart ripped out, and all four of us are suffering. We’re in a post-traumatic state.”

  “You just finished,” he pointed out. “We’ll adjust, but we need time. I feel better already, knowing the worst is behind us.”

  “We need more than time. We’re strangers, Jacob. Andrew spends all his time creating a virtual family with some computer game. Valerie is never home, and she’s completely changed the kids she hangs out with. You’re always working. And we—” She didn’t want to go there, not right away. “I miss you, Jacob. I miss us, together. I miss the way we used to be.”

  “A week in somebody’s lakeside cottage is not going to be a cure-all,” he said.

  “It’s not,” she agreed. “And it isn’t supposed to be. What it could be, I think, is a start to the healing this whole family needs. We can’t go on the way we have been. We’re strangers under the same roof that used to house a happy family. We need this time away—from work and school and stress. I know it’s only temporary, but we’ll have a chance to focus on each other, with no distractions or interruptions.”

  “Honey, I do see your point,” he said, “but unfortunately, we can’t swing it right now. The kids have school, and I’ve got some major surveys coming up at work—”

  “Jacob, we’re always going to be busy. It’s the nature of our family. I accept that. What I hope you’ll accept is making time for what’s important to you, even if it doesn’t seem like the most responsible course of action. I already talked to Andrew’s teacher and Valerie’s adviser. They both agreed to put the kids on independent study for the days we’re away.”

  “When I’m not working, I’m not earning anything,” he reminded her, as if she could ever forget. She could tell he was struggling to be patient.

  “I’m aware of that. We’ll just have to deal with it.”

  “Miranda, sweetheart, maybe we can plan something for the holidays or next summer.” He took her by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Right now, we can’t afford to go.”

  She blinked back tears. “We can’t afford not to.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Okay this is not what I generally think of when someone says New York.” Miranda gazed in wonder out the window of the rental car. For miles around, she could see nothing but rolling hills draped in a patchwork of glorious fall color, each gentle rise cleft by a narrow country road or rocky stream. Occasionally they passed through quaint towns with white-painted houses and picket fences, funky resale and outdoor shops, colonial-style village greens and church spires.

  “Me neither,” said Jacob, behind the wheel of the rented Ford Escape. “Pretty up here.”

  The kids were asleep in the backseat. The red-eye flight from Seattle to JFK had made for a very short night, and the drive up into the Catskills had taken its toll on Andrew and Valerie.

  Miranda reached over and patted Jacob’s leg. Given his worries about their financial situation, his agreeing to take time out from work was a big step for him. He had been good-natured and positive throughout the whirlwind preparations that kicked in once they decided to go for it. Miranda knew him well, though. She knew he lay awake at night, worrying and crunching numbers in his head.

  A familiar twinge of anger pinched her heart. Not at him. In the very worst moments of her illness, she certainly had been angry at Jacob. Ridiculously, insanely furious at him. How could he stand by her bed looking so young and healthy and handsome while she lay on rubber sheets, bald and gray-faced, her body misshapen by surgery and swelling, and dripping drains sprouting from her body? It wasn’t fair.

  Yet her anger at Jacob was always fleeting, an irrational flash of emotion. This man was the love of her life. More than once, he had broken down and vowed that he would willingly trade places with her, take her pain away if he could. And he meant it. She knew that. He made her ashamed that she got angry at him.

  They drove through Kingston, designated by an historic marker as the first capital of the state of New York. They stopped to fill up the gas tank and drive past the regional hospital. Miranda had spoken at length with her doctor, and she didn’t anticipate any problems, but he advised her to make sure there was a hospital nearby.

  Just in case.

  In contrast to the charm of the river-fed hills that surrounded the region, the hospital was sleek and modern, its glass-and-brick edifice sharp against the blue autumn sky.

  “Want to stop in?” Jacob suggested. “Familiarize yourself with the place?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve seen enough of the inside of hospitals to last a lifetime.” She had a love-hate relationship with them. On the one hand, the hospital was the place that had saved her life; it was filled with caring, dedicated people. On the other, it was a repository of sickness and grief, and represented the terrible threat and stark consequences of her disease.

  Valerie woke up as they drove westward along a scenic state road. She blinked at the dazzling golden autumn light. “Are we there yet?”

  Miranda twisted around on the seat to look back at her. “Just about. Take a look outside. The scenery is absolutely beautiful here.”

  “I’m not into scenery.”


  Miranda ignored her daughter’s sour attitude. “Check this out—a covered bridge.”

  “Cute.”

  “Wake up your brother and tell him to look at the bridge.”

  Valerie nudged Andrew with her foot. “Hey, geek-boy. Mom says wake up and check out the bridge.”

  “Back off,” he groaned, wiping his face with his sleeve. Then he looked outside gamely enough. “Cool.”

  Jacob slowed down as they crossed the bridge. Briefly, they plunged into shadow, and the wooden bridge deck creaked beneath the tires of the car. When they emerged on the other side, they were greeted by a painted sign that said, Welcome to Avalon. Population 1347.

  “Looks like a happening place,” Valerie said.

  “Come on, now,” Jacob cajoled her. “At least try to act as if you’re enjoying this.”

  “Oh. Okay. It’s charming, like something out of a Washington Irving story. And the turning leaves are beautiful. And, gee, did you know that according to legend, Avalon is the name of the place King Arthur went to die? There. Is that cheerful enough for you?”

  “Nice,” Jacob murmured, gritting his teeth.

  “At least we got you out of a week of school,” Miranda pointed out.

  “I didn’t ask to get out of school,” Valerie said. “And I’ve got that big honkin’ assignment due when I get back, so it’s not like I’m actually getting a break.”

  Valerie’s teachers and adviser had been very supportive all through Miranda’s illness, and this week was no exception. “You’ll be back just in time for Homecoming,” Mrs. Pratt had pointed out, handing Miranda the paperwork for independent study.

  Valerie hadn’t met her adviser’s eyes. She’d simply mumbled her thanks and ducked out of the school office. This week she had just four things to do. She had to read “The Specter Bridegroom” by Washington Irving. She had to write an essay, do a math assignment and a biology project on the structure of mosses and lichens.