Xavier snorted. "She doesn't need that job. You should have heard her sing last night."
"I did," Penn snapped. "I bribed the guy that runs the spotlight to let me watch from up there. I saw her sing. I heard every note you sang, Corsica."
"What is with you and the unnecessary lies?" Xavier asked.
"Me?" Penn turned on his father with a clenched fist.
"What is wrong with you two?" I yelled as the helicopter engine roared to life. "None of this matters right now. Alice is waiting, and she either has good news or bad. All you two have to do is sit on that helicopter and wait to hear which one it is. Do you think you can manage that?"
"I'm glad you're here," Xavier said. He spun on his heel and signaled to his helicopter pilot.
Penn slipped his hand into mine and intertwined our fingers. "I can manage it, if you're with me."
"I am," I said. "And, Penn? I'm not pretending."
#
"I don't want to admit it. I'm not ready to admit it," Alice said in a tremulous voice.
Penn's fingers, still intertwined with mine, flexed. "Just tell us," he begged.
"Let her say it in her own way," I whispered.
Alice's eyes brightened as she looked at me. Then, her attention returned to Xavier and their son. "I was hesitant to go to the doctors in the first place. I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up."
I fought off my own growing panic and concentrated on keeping my breath slow and steady. Penn was so rigid I was afraid he would crack. Xavier was exactly the same, his clenched jaw expression the exact origin of his son's worried look.
"I guess it was good that I didn't trust them because then my hopes weren't tied to modern medicine. That left room for the real miracle," Alice said.
No one said a word. In the silence, I was sure that Penn had stopped breathing.
Alice reached out and took Xavier's hand. "The cancer cells are disappearing. The doctors think that full remission might be possible. Either way, I'm doing better now than I was before you all came and forced my hand."
"You're better?" Xavier asked with the blank look of shock.
"Yes," Alice grinned. "I'm much better."
"Oh my God. Oh thank God." Penn spun away and pulled me with him. On the edge of Alice's grove, he stopped under an oak tree and sank to the ground.
Still intertwined by the hand, I knelt down beside him. As soon as I settled onto the grass, Penn collapsed into my lap. There was no sound, but his shoulders heaved and hot tears soaked my skirt. I held his hand tight and used my other to brush back his unruly hair.
"Shh," I crooned over him. "Now you can let it all go. Let it go and let yourself be happy."
"Happy?" Penn snuffled against my skirt and sat up. "Is this happy?"
I smiled and smoothed away his smudged tears. "This is shock. Relief. Probably a little anger that you had to go through all this in the first place. Once you get all of that out of your system, you'll feel happy."
"Out of my system," Penn murmured. "You know, I lied about that. I know I'll never get you out of my system."
"Shh, we don't have to talk about that now."
Penn let go of my hand and took both my shoulders. "I need to thank you. I need to stop lying to you."
"What you need to do is get up and go hug your mother," I said. "Your father, too, if you can manage it."
Penn pulled me to my feet, and I saw the flicker of a scowl pass over his lips. "One step at a time."
"You're right," I said, "and the first step is to go and celebrate with your family. I'll give you a minute."
In all honesty, it was me that needed a minute. Once Penn had rejoined his mother and father and I could hear their laughter, I stumbled past the oak tree and into the thicker undergrowth. Somewhere in the tangle of ferns and tall grass, I dropped to my knees. The sobs were silent and all the more painful for the lack of sound.
His mother, Penn's beautiful mother, was going to get well. He had countless more dinners and holidays and casual chats with her. I was glad, so glad for him, but all I could was cry. I cried in relief that this time hope had worked, at the same time as I mourned the time that hope hadn't been enough for my own mother.
"Corsica?" Xavier asked. He brushed aside the ferns and held out a hand.
I waved him away. "I just need a minute."
He sat down in the dirt with me, despite his pristine suit. "I don't know how I'm going to thank you for all this. No, don't wave me off. You were a huge part of this."
I gave up and let Xavier pull me to my feet. "I'm just so glad it was good news."
He smiled. "The good news is that I'm going to kick my son's ass from here to next Wednesday if he doesn't find a way to thank you properly."
Xavier led me back to the Alice's yurt and right up to Penn. Alice unwound her brightly clad arms from her son's waist and cupped my face. "Sweet girl, I thought you would be the first one to declare a celebration and the last one to shed tears."
"We're going to let them celebrate on their own," Xavier declared. "How about one of those luxury tents? The one with the chandelier?"
Penn rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Anything. I'm so happy, I'll do anything."
I found my voice again. "Then how about we settle something once and for all," I said. Penn's jaw dropped, worried that I was about to reveal our silly charade. I laughed. "Take me out along your favorite trail and we'll see who the real camper is."
"You're trading a night in one of your opulent 'glamping' dreams to hike a long, dusty trail and sleep on the ground?" Penn asked.
I nodded. "Proving you wrong is my kind of celebration."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Penn - 16
It was hard to admit that the pace Corsica set was impressive. I had forgotten that she ran every morning, usually along the beach, and that underneath her pretty sundresses was a fit, athletic body. She marched along the trail with fiery determination. There was nothing to do but focus on the hike and enjoy the view.
Corsica had switched out her breezy sundress for a pair of tailored, khaki shorts and a sky-blue tank top. Every time I glanced over the curve of her back, I thought the shirt was the color of her eyes. After the silly thought reoccurred a few times, I wished the incline was more punishing. I was having trouble keeping my mind on our trip.
The biggest problem was I couldn't believe we were out there. I kept thinking Corsica must be a daydream in front of me. I was still amazed and pleased that this had been her idea.
"Couldn't find a bigger pack?" I asked.
Corsica tossed a look over her shoulder. "It's the same size as your pack."
"Except mine is full of necessities like a frying pan and food. How many dresses, skirts, and outfits did you pack?"
She stopped on the trail and spun around to face me. "I've got the coffee grounds and press, plus half the water. What, is your pack too heavy? Do you need me to take on more?"
I laughed and brushed a wavy curl out of her face. "No. I'm just teasing you."