transferred to Ashton Heights in February. It had to have been hard to make friends with all that was going on. I just want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
Pam was an attractive, freckle-faced blonde with light hazel eyes and a fondness for wearing zany earrings. Today a pair of colorful parrots dangled from her lobes. Erica had always thought Pam a nice person. And it had been difficult to form meaningful friendships at Ashton Heights when her year had been spent wrapped up in Aunt Claire’s medical issues.
Or perhaps her lack of deep relationships had more to do with her innate reticence than circumstance. She could have reached out to Pam at any time. Erica had always known she was a woman willing to lend a sympathetic ear.
“You’re right, I have been stressed about something.” Erica took a sip of her coffee without tasting it. Her heart started to pound. Just say it. She’s a woman, she’ll understand. “I found a lump in my breast.”
It was the first time she’d said it out loud. Erica was both terrified to have the words vocalized and relieved that the truth was out there.
Immediately, Pam reached across the table and touched Erica’s arm. “Oh, Erica. I kind of sensed it wasn’t the flu but I had no idea. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” The answer was automatic, but Erica found herself annoyed by her own lie. Would it kill her to admit she wasn’t as strong as she wanted to be? “Actually I’m not fine. I found it last Friday morning, in the shower. I went to work for some crazy reason, and I felt like I was in a daze. Then I…”
Erica pulled back on offering the details of what she’d done Friday night. That was not something she was comfortable sharing with anyone. “I spent the weekend trying to sort it out in my head. I didn’t want to face it but I had to. Calling my doctor was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I don’t know what I was waiting for, I have a family history. I can’t afford to waste time.”
“Your aunt,” Pam concluded softly. “It was breast cancer, wasn’t it?”
Erica nodded, feeling the familiar painful pang that reminders of Aunt Claire’s last weeks still engendered. “Inoperable by the time they found it. We only had a few more months together.”
“I’m so sorry. That makes this worse, doesn’t it? You having a family history.”
“Yes. Sometimes I feel like searching for lumps has become an unhealthy obsession.” Erica tried for a smile. “But what choice do I have? I have a mutation on the BCRA1 gene—I went to genetic counseling last year, had the test when Aunt Claire was diagnosed. My chances of living to a ripe old age without contracting cancer are pretty slim.”
“Oh bugger.” A crimson flush infused Pam’s face. “I feel awful. Here I was all day feeling sorry for myself because I went on a blind date the other night with a guy who started picking his teeth with his fingernail at the dinner table.”
Once again Pam made Erica laugh when she was least expecting it. She wiped moisture from the corners of her eyes. “With his fingernail ? That is terrible.”
They shared a laugh over the ludicrousness of it. Then Pam sobered. “Good Lord, it must make dating a nightmare for you.”
“I haven’t done much of that lately.” What happened last Friday with Corey and Griff did not constitute dating. “I was going out with a man a while back, but once he found all this out he couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“What a loser.”
Pam’s vehement statement sounded good to Erica. It was true—Doug had not been a winner, or even a nice man. Neither had he been a very capable lover. Recent experience had turned a glaring spotlight on that fact. Erica had no idea why she’d waited for him to break up with her .
Except that, given her situation, she’d never really thought she could do better.
“Never mind. There are plenty of men out there who wouldn’t care about your
Pam was an attractive, freckle-faced blonde with light hazel eyes and a fondness for wearing zany earrings. Today a pair of colorful parrots dangled from her lobes. Erica had always thought Pam a nice person. And it had been difficult to form meaningful friendships at Ashton Heights when her year had been spent wrapped up in Aunt Claire’s medical issues.
Or perhaps her lack of deep relationships had more to do with her innate reticence than circumstance. She could have reached out to Pam at any time. Erica had always known she was a woman willing to lend a sympathetic ear.
“You’re right, I have been stressed about something.” Erica took a sip of her coffee without tasting it. Her heart started to pound. Just say it. She’s a woman, she’ll understand. “I found a lump in my breast.”
It was the first time she’d said it out loud. Erica was both terrified to have the words vocalized and relieved that the truth was out there.
Immediately, Pam reached across the table and touched Erica’s arm. “Oh, Erica. I kind of sensed it wasn’t the flu but I had no idea. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” The answer was automatic, but Erica found herself annoyed by her own lie. Would it kill her to admit she wasn’t as strong as she wanted to be? “Actually I’m not fine. I found it last Friday morning, in the shower. I went to work for some crazy reason, and I felt like I was in a daze. Then I…”
Erica pulled back on offering the details of what she’d done Friday night. That was not something she was comfortable sharing with anyone. “I spent the weekend trying to sort it out in my head. I didn’t want to face it but I had to. Calling my doctor was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I don’t know what I was waiting for, I have a family history. I can’t afford to waste time.”
“Your aunt,” Pam concluded softly. “It was breast cancer, wasn’t it?”
Erica nodded, feeling the familiar painful pang that reminders of Aunt Claire’s last weeks still engendered. “Inoperable by the time they found it. We only had a few more months together.”
“I’m so sorry. That makes this worse, doesn’t it? You having a family history.”
“Yes. Sometimes I feel like searching for lumps has become an unhealthy obsession.” Erica tried for a smile. “But what choice do I have? I have a mutation on the BCRA1 gene—I went to genetic counseling last year, had the test when Aunt Claire was diagnosed. My chances of living to a ripe old age without contracting cancer are pretty slim.”
“Oh bugger.” A crimson flush infused Pam’s face. “I feel awful. Here I was all day feeling sorry for myself because I went on a blind date the other night with a guy who started picking his teeth with his fingernail at the dinner table.”
Once again Pam made Erica laugh when she was least expecting it. She wiped moisture from the corners of her eyes. “With his fingernail ? That is terrible.”
They shared a laugh over the ludicrousness of it. Then Pam sobered. “Good Lord, it must make dating a nightmare for you.”
“I haven’t done much of that lately.” What happened last Friday with Corey and Griff did not constitute dating. “I was going out with a man a while back, but once he found all this out he couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“What a loser.”
Pam’s vehement statement sounded good to Erica. It was true—Doug had not been a winner, or even a nice man. Neither had he been a very capable lover. Recent experience had turned a glaring spotlight on that fact. Erica had no idea why she’d waited for him to break up with her .
Except that, given her situation, she’d never really thought she could do better.
“Never mind. There are plenty of men out there who wouldn’t care about your
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