Season of Blessing by Beverly LaHaye

lunch afterward.”
    â€œSounds good to me. And I’m not coming to hold your hand. I want you to hold mine.”
    Sylvia laughed. “You’re not worried about this, are you?”
    Cathy shrugged. “A little. What did Harry say?”
    â€œOh, he wanted to drop everything and fly home. I told him not to, that there’s no reason to panic until we get the results of the biopsy. Then I’ll be flying to him.”
    Her bravado seemed to lighten Cathy’s spirits, but when they reached the doctor’s office, Sylvia’s own spirits began to flag. She looked around at the others in the waiting room, wondering who there might have a tumor, who was having a biopsy, who had already gotten the results, whose life would be forever changed. Her hands felt ice cold again, so she slipped them under her thighs.
    Cathy seemed to have thoughts of her own swirling through her mind, for she didn’t bother to pick up a magazine or strike up a conversation.
    This was craziness, her pretending not to worry, when she wasn’t fooling anyone. She needed to come clean, she thought, and be honest with Cathy. “Have I ever told you that my mother died of breast cancer when she was about my age?” she said in a low voice.
    The alarm in Cathy’s eyes was unmistakable. “No, Sylvia, you’ve never told me that.”
    â€œShe did. I don’t bring that up because I think that it means I have it. I feel sure that my body would have told me if I had something terrible like that, but it does seem relevant, doesn’t it?”
    â€œYou’ve told the doctor, haven’t you?”
    â€œYes.” She breathed in a deep breath, let it out hard. “The thing is, I’ve known I was at high risk for getting it myself. I don’t know why I let it go for the past couple of years.”
    Cathy took her hand. “You’re cold.”
    â€œFreezing.”
    â€œIt’s nerves, you know. You’re not as tough as you act.”
    Sylvia started to laugh, and Cathy joined her.
    Sylvia closed her other hand over Cathy’s. “Let’s talk about lunch. Something beyond this biopsy.”
    â€œOkay. Where do you want to go?”
    Sylvia thought for a moment, trying to picture herself and Cathy relaxing over a chef salad. “Alexander’s. I’ve been wanting to go there.”
    â€œAlexander’s it is. And you’ll have to have steak, you know.”
    â€œWhy is that?”
    â€œWell, we need to build your blood back up, get some iron pumping through your veins.”
    Sylvia nodded.
    A nurse came to the door and Sylvia looked up. “Sylvia Bryan,” the woman called. Sylvia didn’t move. She looked at Cathy, and Cathy gave her a reassuring look and patted her knee. Finally, she leaned over and grabbed her purse.
    â€œGuess I’ll see you in a little bit.”
    â€œI’ll be praying.”

    A little while later, Sylvia returned to the waiting room. “That was easy,” she said.
    Cathy looked up at her. “Any results?”
    â€œNo. They said tomorrow.”
    Cathy grabbed her purse. “Okay. How do you feel?”
    â€œFine right now. The local anesthetic hasn’t worn off yet.”
    â€œAnd emotionally?”
    Sylvia examined her own heart. “Well, I can’t say I won’t think about it again until the results come…but let’s just have lunch and not talk about it.”
    â€œOkay,” Cathy said. “Whatever you say.”

    At the restaurant, Cathy accommodated Sylvia’s wish to avoid the subject of cancer, and told her instead of the fight she and Steve had had last night. “It’s not like the marriage is going badly.” She stirred more butter into her potato. “I’m really happy with Steve. I love him and I love Tracy, and I think things are going well…basically…but I can’t help wishing that he’d go easier on Mark. He’s