Something About Sophie Read Online Free PDF Page A

much sadness?”
    â€œOne day at a time, I’m told.”
    â€œYou’d know, I suppose. Your job and death go hand in hand.” He looked shocked; she scrambled. “Sort of. Right? Cancer patients mostly? You deal with people who die . . . might die, I mean . . . usually. You know, eventually.”
    His lips twitched. “I’ll go with ‘eventually.’ Eventually we all die. And I rarely have patients who don’t have at least a fifty-fifty chance of survival. Usually the odds are much better, so I like to think I’m more about hope than death. In fact, my dad’s a cardiologist—handles a lot of cardiac patients and his stats are far worse than mine.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
    â€œI know. At least you stopped short of calling me Dr. Death.”
    â€œOh, no, that’s not at all what I meant. I—”
    This time he laughed out loud. “Sophie, I’m kidding.” But as she began to relax, the more thoughtful he became. “So, who that you love had cancer?”
    â€œI’m so obvious?”
    â€œNo. But sometimes hope isn’t enough—nothing we do is enough—and then I need to be prepared to recognize and deal with the lack of hope, which turns into resentment and anger.”
    â€œAnd that’s what you see in me?”
    â€œHardly at all. Just flashes, like a second ago. I see you struggling with it.”
    â€œMy mom. She died last year. Stage-four esophageal cancer. Her pain—” She stopped; she could see he knew about the pain. “My poor dad refused to accept it. For almost two years, he dragged her from one oncologist to another, one hospital to the next, until she and I both put our foot down and refused to go with him. You talk about angry and resentful. . . . There didn’t seem to be anything anyone could say to him. He’s a psychologist—it was like he’d heard all the words before, so when he needed them, they didn’t mean much.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” There it was again: the understanding and compassion. He knew.
    â€œWho was it for you?”
    He smiled at her perception. “My grandfather, a long time ago.”
    â€œIs he why you chose oncology?”
    â€œYep, pretty much. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor. You know, grow up and be like my dad, a big-time cardio-thoracic surgeon at the medical center—at the university in Charlottesville? UVA?” She nodded. She knew the one. “We’d save lives together. He’d be proud of me. We’d be a team and we could spend all kinds of time with each other—which we didn’t when I was young.” His enthusiasm increased. “But my granddad was there. He took me fishing and to UVA football and baseball games—a huge Wahoo fan.” She was about to mention that her father was, too, but she liked the way he was smiling, remembering. “We must have gone to a thousand Flying Squirrels games in Richmond.”
    â€œFlying Squirrels.” She squinted. “That’s what, cricket?”
    He laughed. “Minor league baseball. He wouldn’t watch anything pro; said the games were better if they were playing for fun or hungry for fame.” He gave away to a fond chuckle and added, “When he developed lung cancer and passed away, I took a ninety-degree turn. I decided to cure cancer. I even spent a few years in research and—”
    â€œThe Florida cousins are flat-out strange,” Jesse announced, coming up behind them. “I asked about their trip up and that one in the yellow tie said they all came in the same car and that it had better be worth the trouble. Can you imagine?”
    â€œThey must be expecting quite a wake, huh?”
    Jesse laughed and slipped her arm around Sophie’s. “You’re the sweetest thing. They’re talking about the will, I’m thinking.”
    â€œMmm.