On a Night Like This by Ellen Sussman

fell. Or passed out.”
    “Give me the address. I’ll be there.”
    She didn’t remember the ride to the hospital or the first few hours of doctors and tests and rolling around on gurneys through white-tiled hallways. When she woke up, Luke was sitting in a chair beside her hospital bed. He had a magazine in his lap, but he wasn’t reading it. He was watching her.
    Blair licked her lips, trying for moisture, which didn’t seem to come. Luke stood up and reached for a glass by her bedside. He placed a straw in her lips and she sipped at the cool water.
    “Amanda,” she finally whispered.
    “I left a message on the door of the cottage,” Luke said. “I told her to call my cell phone.”
    “Thank you,” Blair whispered, and she knew she was crying, though she wasn’t making any sound.
    Luke sat on the bed at her side.
    “Who can I call?” he asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your friends. Boyfriend. Who can take care of you?”
    Blair shook her head, fighting back more tears. Luke waited, watching her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes.
    “Call Daniel,” she finally said. “At the restaurant. My boss. Tell him what happened.”
    “Will he come here?” Luke asked gently.
    Again Blair shook her head. “I don’t want him here.”
    She felt Luke’s hand on her cheek.
    “You shouldn’t be alone,” he said.
    “I know,” Blair said, moving away from him, turning her body away from him in her bed. “I have my daughter.”
    “I can help,” Luke said.
    She didn’t say anything. She stared at the curtain in the room, separating her from some other sick person, maybe another dying person. She heard voices, muffled voices, from behind the curtain. Someone was crying. She closed her eyes, wishing herself anywhere else but here.
    “Why would you help?” Blair asked gently.
    “I don’t know,” Luke said. “Maybe I really have been in the woods too long.”
    Blair opened her eyes and turned toward him. She waited—she could see that he was working something through his mind and that he still had more to say.
    “Maybe I’m getting tired of my own problems. I’d like someone else’s for a while.” He shrugged sheepishly, as if embarrassed.
    “I don’t want your help,” Blair said quietly.
    “Then I won’t help you,” Luke said. “I’ll just hang out and entertain you.”
    Blair shot him a skeptical look. He was smiling, or almost smiling, and she had to look away again.
    “I’m not really in the market for new friends or lovers. You know?” Blair said to the ceiling.
    “I know,” Luke said.
    “So, thanks for the ride. I mean, thanks for helping out tonight. But that’s all I wanted. A ride.”
    “I’ll just wait here till Amanda calls,” Luke said, his voice soft. She wouldn’t look at him—didn’t want to see the expression on his face.
    “Fine,” Blair said. “I might sleep a bit.”
    They were both quiet for a while and then Blair asked, “What happened to me? I mean, do you know? Did you talk to anyone?”
    She felt Luke’s hand on her arm but kept her eyes closed.
    “You had a seizure. The doctor said that the cancer might have spread to your brain.” He paused. The world seemed so quiet and all she could hear was the deep draw of breath from his lungs. “He’ll be back later tonight. He’ll explain it all to you.”
    Blair didn’t say anything. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for her daughter to call, to come to her, to crawl in bed as if it were any long-ago night and Amanda had a nightmare and needed the comfort of her mother’s body next to her.
But this time I’m the one who’s scared,
Blair thought.

Chapter Four
    L uke couldn’t sleep. In the old days when he woke at two or three in the morning and knew that sleep would elude him for a couple of hours, he would head to his study to write. He’d pick at his foggy brain in a different way than he did during normal working hours—he’d push scenes in new directions, challenge his