Billy Straight

47

Thursday, at 6:30 p.m., after spending more fruitless time on the Eggermann murder, Stu got ready to leave. Petra was in the ladies' room; he supposed he should wait to say good-bye to her.

Tomorrow, he'd go through TV Guides. Any decent-size library would have them. He'd find one near the hospital.

He locked his desk, tried to free his mind of the Worry. Bad margins on the tumor. Lymph nodes full of cancer.

When he was with her, he was Mr. Positive. She'd let him know right away that's the way she wanted it.

We've got to keep everything normal for their sake, honey.

The children came first. He agreed with that- family was everything, but what kind of family would there be tomorrow?

Mommy's going to the hospital for a little checkup, guys. Just a couple days, everything's fine.

She hadn't shed a tear, spent every day since the problem began the exact same way: car-pooling, cooking, church auxiliary. Even lovemaking. Stu'd been reluctant, but she'd insisted and he hadn't wanted her to feel damaged.

Nineteen years ago, she'd been homecoming queen at Hoover High, Miss Glendale the following year, then a sorority sweetheart at Occidental, a 4.0 history major.

Just one tumor, Drizak assured him, relatively small. The family history wasn't terrible: Kathy's mom was healthy, but an aunt had died of breast cancer.

All in all, a decent prognosis, Drizak claimed. But Stu was a doctor's son, knew how imprecise medicine could be.

Bad surprises, Father had told him more than once, are part of a surgeon's life. That's why we all have to trust in the Lord.

Stu ached to trust, and for the past few days he'd been praying with the conspicuous fervor of a missionary. Inside, he was hollow as an atheist.

All those Please, Gods; Dear Jesuses. What right did he have to petition?

For the sake of the children. Always the children.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“Sorry,” said Petra.

“Thought I'd shove off.”

Her hand remained there. “Look, if there's anything I can do…”

“Thanks, but we're fine, Petra. I'm sure it'll all go smoothly.”

“What time's the surgery?”

“Six A.M.”

“Don't rush back,” she said. “Wil and I will handle everything.”

“Okay,” he said, wondering if she'd try to hug him again. He hoped not. Not here, in front of all the others.

“What are your plans?” he asked.

“Thought I'd mosey over to Ramsey's place, talk to security, see if there's any other way out of RanchHaven.”

“Good idea,” he said. Petra had pointed out that they'd neglected to question the night guard immediately, and he'd been appalled… What would he do without Kathy?

He told Petra she was doing a great job and left.

Walk steady; one foot in front of the other. But his knees were weak, and it felt as if someone were shoving him.