Skeleton Key(124)

“I still say,” Donna was saying, “that we ought to call Gregor and tell him what’s going on. He’s not going to be at all happy to show up here and find Bennis in a hospital bed when he didn’t even know she was sick.”

“He knows she is sick,” Tibor said, in his very careful, thickly accented English. “I have told him that she has gone to see the doctor. I have told him that she has had an emergency and that he should come home. What else should I have told him?”

“You should have told him the doctors think she might have cancer,” Donna said.

Bennis turned over in bed. She wanted a cigarette. That was the truth. She wanted a cigarette so badly, she was almost ready to cry. More than that, she wanted to be able to breathe.

“Oh, God,” Donna said. “We’ve got her upset. Bennis? Bennis, listen, I didn’t mean to upset you, I really didn’t I just meant that Gregor really needs to know what the situation is. It’s not fair to him—”

“Nobody knows what the situation is,” Bennis said, forcing herself to sit up. “They found a spot on my lung. They don’t even know what it is yet.”

“Yes,” Donna said. “Yes, I know.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bennis said. “You don’t have to be so damned optimistic about it.”

“I am optimistic about it,” Tibor said. “I have talked to God. That is my job. But I am not optimistic about you when this is over, because I do not think you will quit smoking.”

Bennis lay back down again. Quit smoking, quit smoking, quit smoking. How long had she been smoking? She couldn’t remember. Since she left high school, she thought She’d started sometime in college. She rolled over on her side and curled into a fetal position. She needed more covers. She needed more blankets. She was so cold. She should have thought to get Tibor to bring something for her from home. If he was going to bring Donna with him anyway, Donna could have gone into Bennis’s apartment and found everything that was needed.

“Look,” Donna said now. “We’ve caused a relapse.”

“We would not cause a relapse if you would not lecture her about cancer,” Tibor said. “It does nobody any good at this point to jump to conclusions.”

Bennis turned over on her back again. Then she sat up again. It made her feel dizzy.

“Listen,” she said. “I want the two of you to get out of here. And then I want to see Lida.”

“Of course,” Donna said quickly. “We’re making you exhausted. We’ll send Lida and Hannah in and—”

“No. Just Lida. I’ll talk to Hannah later. Maybe. If I’m up to it.”

“Hannah is going to be very upset about it,” Donna said dubiously. “Are you sure you want to, well, you know—”

“I need to talk to Lida,” Bennis insisted.

Tibor and Donna looked at each other. Bennis wished they weren’t behaving so much as if they were granting her her last wish. Then they each leaned over the bed in turn and kissed her on the forehead.

“Just a moment,” Tibor promised. “We will send Mrs. Arkmanian down to talk to you.”

Bennis took the time just after they left to rearrange the pillows so that she could sit up better. Then she remembered something she had forgotten about hospital beds and went looking for a button. She found it on a sort of remote-control thing that wasn’t really remote, since it was hooked into a wire. She couldn’t think what to call it. She pushed the button and the top half of the bed began moving upward.

Lida came in just as Bennis found a bed position she liked. Lida Kazanjian Arkmanian had been the prettiest girl in Gregor Demarkian’s grammar school class, and she was still a remarkable-looking woman, with high cheekbones and good hair. She also had a truly remarkable three-quarter-length chinchilla coat.

“I wish I had that,” Bennis said, as soon as Lida came in. “I’d use it as a blanket.”

Lida shrugged off the coat and spread it out over Bennis on the bed. “This should be better than what they give you here. And later this afternoon, maybe I’ll bring you some real blankets and some food. Will they let me bring you food?”

“Absolutely. I can eat anything. I’m supposed to eat anything. It was just last night and this morning you know, when they were leading up to the biopsy.”

“Yes,” Lida said.

Bennis hunkered down under the chinchilla coat. “Look,” she said, “I don’t mean to pry or anything, but are you still in contact with my brother Chris?”

Lida cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Not quite in the same sort of contact I once was, if you understand—I don’t know, Bennis, but I think I’m getting old—but we still talk at least once a week.”