While My Sister Sleeps by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online Page B

Christmas. It was time to preorder. Last year,they had sold out of poinsettias and had to rush to restock at a premium cost. She wanted plenty at wholesale this year.
    How many hundreds to order—three, four? Eight-inch pots, ten-inch, twelve-inch? And how many of each size to upgrade to ceramic pots?
    She struggled with the decisions, but came up short. She was about as interested in poinsettias as she was in moving. Digging up her landlord Terrance Field's phone number, she punched it in. “Hey, Mr. Field,” she said when the old man picked up, “it's Molly Snow. How are you?”
    “Not bad,” he replied warily. “What is it now, Molly?”
    “My sister's had an accident. It's pretty serious. This time I really do need an extension.”
    “You said that last time, too. When was that, a week ago?”
    “That was a problem with the moving company, Mr. Field, and I did work it out. This is different.” In the space of a breath, she realized that her argument was lame without the truth. “Robin had a heart attack.”
    There was a pause, then a gently chiding, “Am I truly supposed to believe that?”
    “She collapsed while she was running. They say there's brain damage. She's in critical condition. Call Dickenson-May. They'll verify it.”
    After another pause came a sigh. “I'll take your word for it, Molly, but I'm over a barrel here. You promised to be out Monday, and my contractor is starting Tuesday. I've paid him a hefty deposit to work quickly, because if the house isn't ready for the realtor to show by the first of November, selling will be difficult. I need that money.”
    Molly knew his realtor. She was an old family friend. “Dorie McKay will understand,” she pleaded, “and she's totally persuasive. She can work things out with the contractor. All I want is an extra week or two.”
    But Terrance didn't budge. “It isn't the contractor, Molly. It's me. First of December, my rent is tripling. The building is going condo. If I don't sell in Hanover, I can't buy here in Jupiter, and I can't afford the triple rent.”
    Molly might have begged—just
one
extra day?
two
extra days?—but one or two days wouldn't make a difference, not with Robin breathing through that god-awful respirator.
    Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't do the packing. Robin wouldn't have done much anyway, and they did have a place to go. Molly just didn't want to move. Despite all the natural beauty in the area, Snow Hill being the least of it, there was a special charm to the cottage. She loved driving down the lane and parking under the oak, loved walking in and smelling aged wood. The house made her feel good. It would be nice to stay a while longer, especially with Robin's future in doubt.
    One thing was for sure: Robin would be neither conducting a clinic that afternoon nor talking with sixth graders on Friday. Molly began with the Friday call, knowing that a Phys Ed teacher, who was less personally involved, would accept a cancellation more easily than a running group would. And she was right. When she explained that Robin was sick, the teacher was disappointed but understanding. The head of the running group was another story. Jenny Fiske knew Robin personally and was concerned.
    When she asked what was wrong, Molly couldn't get herself to blame the flu. “She had some trouble yesterday during a long run. They're doing tests now.”
    “Is it her heel again?”
    That would have been the recent bone spur incident. But a bone spur wouldn't keep Robin from meeting with a runninggroup. Robin
adored
meeting with running groups. She would have gone on crutches, if need be. No, for her to cancel out on a running group would take something serious. Molly tried to come up with a possibility. Pneumonia? Stomach cramps? Migraines? Lasting for
weeks?
    Finally she just said, “It's something with her heart.”
    “Oh God, the enlarged heart thing. She was hoping it would go away.”
    Molly paused. “What do you mean?”
    “I don't think