Page 80 of Look on the Bright Side

“I love when you’re right,” she said, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could see beyond his treatment.

“When is the wedding?” Dr.Kothari asked.

“December tenth,” Heather said. “Justin refused to call it off. Just six months to go.” She beamed at Lark. “They are a remarkable couple.”

“We’ll invite you,” Lark said. “It’ll be on Cape Cod.”

“I would be honored, and not to blow my own horn, but I am a wonderful dancer,” Dr.Kothari said with a smile. “Of course, we still have to be careful about infections. But I’m very pleased with what we’re seeing.”

“Thank you for helping me, Dr.Kothari. For believing in me,” he said, his voice rich with that sweet earnestness, and there he was, the old Justin.

Leaving his office today was nothing like it had been the first time. Today, they were still deployed in this terrible war, but they were nearly done. They were Easy Company in the 101st Airborne, and Germany was just about to surrender. Almost home. Almost done. Remission was around the corner. Justin was on the right track, and Dr.Kothari was optimistic.

Theo and Heather swung by the Laughing Monk Cafe for takeout and met them back at Justin’s. For the first time in twelve weeks, Heather brought up the wedding and asked where they might want to honeymoon.

“Somewhere warm,” Justin said. “Right on the beach. Lark in a bikini, and finally, some alcohol. That’s what heaven is, right there.” They all laughed. Lark could picture it—white sand, long sunsets, gentle walks…and sex. Lots of sex, because she missed it. They hadn’t had any since early in the treatment, and it had been terrified, desperate sex.

And then, she thought, a baby. Forget waiting. Maybe get pregnant on the honeymoon, because how sweet would that be? Heather would be delirious with joy. Lark smiled at her, picturing her bursting into tears when they told her and Theo. Her own mom would be delighted, too, and oh, gosh, Grammy and Grandpop! How thrilled they’d be.

“How’s your family?” Theo asked. “Your gram doing okay?”

Lark nodded. “She is, yes. Two cancer warriors in the family.” Grammy was done with her much milder treatment for breast cancer and was back to reading obsessively and taking walks with Winnie every evening.

While they hadn’t wanted to risk exposing Justin to anyone who might have the slightest cold, Grandpop, who still worked in Boston two days a week, had met Lark at the Common a few times, and though she had to wear a mask, it was so good to see him. Harlow had sent books and care packages, funny T-shirts and chocolate. Mom and Dad had come to town once a week, even if Lark couldn’t see them, leaving packages in the building’s foyer—beautiful white rocks from the beach and one of Mom’s ocean paintings to hang over their couch, blueberry bread she’d baked from scratch, a loving letter from Dad.

Lark’s eyes filled with tears. Her family had been there for them, even if they hadn’t been allowed to actually be physically present.

“You must miss going home,” Heather said, squeezing her hand.

Lark glanced at Justin, who was demolishing his pad Thai. “Nah,” she said. “This is home now.”

He put down his chopsticks. “Babe, you should go down for the weekend. I’m doing great. You heard the doctor. Your family would love to see you, and I know you miss them.”

She felt her heart tug. She missed Harlow’s calm, kind presence; Winnie’s dry sense of humor; Robbie’s pranks and irreverence. Justin was right. She wanted to see them, have dinner in Mom and Dad’s big disorganized kitchen, sleep in the room she’d shared with Addie, curl up in the bookstore, eat a cheeseburger at the Ice House. God, she missed cheeseburgers!

“We’ll stay with Justin,” Theo said. “He’s right, sweetheart. You’ve been incredible, and you deserve a break.”

“I don’t need one,” she said, twisting her beautiful engagement ring. “Really. Don’t tell Justin, but I’m kind of developing feelings for him, you know?”

They laughed, but all three of the Deans were insistent. It was the third week of June, and the Cape sure was beautiful at this time of year. Mom’s wild, rambling garden would be bursting; Wellfleet’s Main Street would be all spiffed up and bedecked with window boxes and flowerpots; and soft breezes would grace the evenings, bringing the smell of ocean and good food.

Heather was clicking on her phone. “I just booked you a facial and massage at Shui Spa in P-town for this weekend,” she said. “Ooh, how about a mineral bath afterward? There.”

“That’s so sweet of you, but—”

“Nope. It’s done.” Heather took Lark’s hand. “You have to take care of yourself, too, honey. You look tired. God knows, this has been hard on you, too.”

She was tired, and she’d lost a couple of pounds with the stress of Justin’s sickness.

“Go, little bird,” Justin said. “Fly home to the Cape and come back to me, clean and sweet-smelling.”

She threw a napkin at him. “I’m clean now, thank you.”

“Admit it,” he said, grinning. “You’re codependent. Don’t start liking this arrangement, future Mrs.Dean. I’m on the road to recovery. You’ll have to find a new hobby.”

He looked so happy, so much healthier, his cheeks pink, eyes gleaming…almost vigorous. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. Unless anything changes, but sure. Thank you, guys. I am pretty homesick.”

It was Monday. She’d leave on Thursday morning and come back on Saturday to avoid the bridge traffic that started each May.

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