Hannah's List. Debbie Macomber

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ you, of the caring pediatrician you’ve become. You were born to be a physician, Michael. And I was born to love you. Thank you for loving me back, for giving so much of yourself to me, especially during these past few months. You made them the very best months of my life.

       I don’t want to die, Michael. I fought this, I honestly did. I gave it everything in me. Nothing would have made me happier than to grow old with you. I’m so sorry that, for me, the end has to come so soon.

       Please don’t ever believe I had a defeatist attitude. When we first got the diagnosis, I was determined to fight this and win. It’s just in the past week that I’ve come to realize that this cancer is bigger than I am. There’s no use pretending otherwise.

      I had to stop reading a second time, regretting once more my insistence that Hannah travel to Europe for the experimental treatment I’d wanted her to receive. It’d been far too late by then. I took a moment to compose myself, then went back to her letter.

       I’ve asked Ritchie to give you this a year after my death. Knowing you as well as I do, I suspect you’ve buried yourself in work. My guess is that you spend twelve hours a day at the office, eating on the run. That isn’t a healthy lifestyle, my darling. I do hope you’re still meeting Ritchie at the gym three times a week.

      I smiled. Yes, Hannah knew everything about me. Right down to the long hours and skipped meals. I’d tried to quit my exercise regime, too, just like I’d dropped Thursday-night poker with the guys. But Ritchie wouldn’t let me. It became easier to show up than to find an excuse.

      Two weeks after Hannah’s funeral he arrived on my doorstep in his workout clothes and dragged me back to the gym. A couple of early-morning calls from my brother-in-law, and I decided I couldn’t fend him off anymore, so our workout became part of my routine once again.

      This next section of my letter is the most painful for me to write. Although it hurts, I have to accept that there’s no hope now. I suppose it’s only natural when facing one’s mortality that regrets surface, along with the knowledge that the end is close. The greatest of those regrets is my inability to have children. This is harder for me than even the discovery that my cancer is terminal. I so badly wanted your baby, Michael. A child for my sake, yes, but yours, too. You should be a father. You will be a wonderful father. Oh, Michael, I so wanted a child.

      Once more I was forced to stop reading as a lump formed in my throat. “I wanted a child, too,” I whispered. I rested the letter on my knee and wondered if I could finish without giving in to the weakness of tears. And yet I had to read on. I had to know Hannah’s last words to me.

       I have one final request of you, my darling, and I hope you will honor it.

      “Anything.” I would do anything for Hannah.

       What I want, what I need from you, is this, my dearest love. I want you to marry again.

      I gasped. No way! I’d already thought about this, and I couldn’t do it. I’d had the love of my life and I’d be foolish to believe it could happen twice. If I did remarry, I’d be cheating the new woman I pledged to love. I’d be cheating us both because my heart would always belong to Hannah and only to Hannah.

      I can see you shaking your head, insisting it isn’t possible. Michael, I know you. I can almost hear your protests. But this is important, so please, please listen. Loving another woman won’t diminish the love we had. Nor does it mean you’ll love me any less. I will always be a part of you and you will remain a part of me.

       The thing you must remember is that my life’s journey is over.

       Yours isn’t.

       You have a lot of living left to do and I don’t want you to waste another moment grieving for me. You made me completely happy, and you’ll make another woman equally so.

      I wasn’t sure I agreed with Hannah, wasn’t sure I was capable of loving another woman, not with the same intensity, the same depth. She didn’t understand what she was asking of me. I had no desire for another woman, no desire to share my life with anyone else ever again.

       Knowing how stubborn you are, I realize you’re going to require a bit of help, so I’ve compiled a short list of candidates for you to consider.

      What? A list? Hannah had supplied me with a list of possible replacements? If it wasn’t so shocking I would’ve laughed. Still, curiosity got the better of me.

       Remember Winter Adams, my cousin? She was a bridesmaid in our wedding. Winter has a big heart and she loves children. She’d make you an excellent wife. She’s also a chef and will cook you incredible meals. In addition to being my cousin, she’s been a good friend. I want you to seriously consider her.

      Of course I remembered Winter. She and Hannah had been close. We hadn’t seen as much of Winter after she opened her restaurant, the French Café on Blossom Street, not far from my office. Hannah and I had visited the café a few times and enjoyed coffee and croissants. I recalled her keeping in touch with Hannah, mostly by phone. If I remembered correctly, Winter had been going through some relationship crisis shortly before Hannah was diagnosed, and, Hannah, being Hannah, had offered her comfort and encouragement.

      Winter had been at the funeral and had doubled over in tears at the cemetery. I hadn’t heard from her since, although I vaguely recalled a sympathy card she’d sent me after we buried Hannah.

      I liked Winter, but I wasn’t interested. Despite Hannah’s confidence in her cousin as a potential wife, I had no intention of remarrying. Besides, all Winter and I had in common was our memories of Hannah.

       The second woman I want you to consider is Leanne Lancaster.

      The name was somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t immediately figure out why. She wasn’t a friend of Hannah’s that I could remember.

       Leanne was my oncology nurse. She was always kind to me and so caring. As a nurse she’d have a special understanding of the stresses you face as a physician. Leanne and I talked quite a bit and if I’d…if I’d had the chance, I feel Leanne and I would’ve become good friends. I admire her emotional strength. She’s divorced and had a rough time of it. I don’t know her as well as I do Winter, but my heart tells me she’d suit you. Meet with her, Michael, get to know her. That’s all I ask.

      Meet with Leanne…get to know her. I doubt Hannah had an inkling of what she was really asking. I had no interest whatsoever in seeking out this woman. As I thought about it, I realized I did remember the oncology nurse. And Hannah was right. Leanne was a kind and caring person—but that didn’t mean I had any desire to know her better!

       The third person on my list is Macy Roth. I don’t think you’ve met her. She’s a part-time model I became friends with while I was still able to work. We met because of some fashion shows I was involved in and some catalog work she did for the store. When Macy learned I was in the hospital she sent me notes of encouragement—cards she made herself with adorable sketches of her cats. Remember? And she knit me socks and a shawl I wore during my chemo. She’s funny and clever and multitalented; she models and paints murals and has two or three other jobs. As I was thinking over this list, her name came to me because I know she’ll make you smile. She’ll bring balance to your life, Michael. I’m afraid that when I’m gone, you’ll become far too serious. I want you to laugh and enjoy life. The same unrestrained СКАЧАТЬ