Page 136 - In Five Years

“Hey,” he says. “I was just trying to check in. How’s it going? Hey man.” He
extends his hand to Aaron, who shakes it.
“I’m going to head back up,” Aaron says. He touches my arm and leaves.
“You doing okay?” David folds me into a hug. I reach up and embrace him.

“They said it’s going well,” I said, although that’s not entirely the truth. They
said it’s going. “I don’t think they need to get into her stomach.”

David’s eyebrows knit. “Good,” he says. “That’s good, right? How are you?”
“Hanging in.”
“Have you eaten?”
I shake my head.

David produces a paper bag with a Sarge’s logo, my bagel with whitefish
salad.

“This is my winner’s breakfast,” I say sadly.
“She’s got this, Dannie.”
“I should head back up,” I say. “Shouldn’t you be at the office?”

“I should be here,” he says.
He puts a hand on my back, and we go upstairs. When we get to the waiting
room, Jill and Frederick are still on their cell phones. A pile of Scarpetta’s

takeout sits upright in a chair next to them. I don’t even know how they got them
to deliver this early—I don’t even think they’re open for lunch.
I brought my computer and I take it out now. The one good thing about the

hospital: free and strong Wi-Fi.
Bella has told very few people. Morgan and Ariel, who I email now, and the
gallery girls, for logistical reasons. I update them, too. I imagine these tiny,

waiflike women contending with their beautiful boss having cancer. Does thirty-
three seem ancient to them? They haven’t even crossed twenty-five.
I work for two hours. Answer emails, punt calls, and research. My brain is a

haze of focus and paranoia and fear and noise. At some point, David forces the
sandwich on me. I’m surprised by my appetite. I finish it. David leaves,
promising to come back later. I tell him I’ll meet him at home. Jill steps out and

comes back. Frederick goes in search of a charger. Aaron sits—sometimes
reading, sometimes doing nothing but staring at the clock, at the big board where
they list where patients are. Patient 487B, still in surgery.