This is a uber story that contains subtext. The characters will definately form a love
for each other.

This story may be best classified as a Hurt/Comfort Story. Readers who
are disturbed by or sensitive to this type of issue may wish to read
something other than this story.

Rainedrop@angelfire.com

To Know You

part3

Chapter 10

A week had passed without Helen seeing Samantha, and Samantha had been absent from two
design meetings with Daniel and Noah. Helen had confronted Wilson asking why Sam wasn’t
present. Wilson had only said that she wasn’t feeling well, and that she should return the following
week. ‘Not to worry’ he had said. Helen wasn’t the worrying type, she was the, I’m going to get
to the bottom of this, type. She called Samantha and wasn’t surprised when the phone rang
without being answered.

Two more days passed before she saw Wilson again. Helen smiled at him, and pleasantly asked
how Sam was feeling, and his only response was ‘fine’. She called his bluff and laid down a card
he couldn’t match.

“Listen, Sam is a great addition to the design team we have working the campaign, but if she
continues to be absent from essential design meetings, then we may have to find another designer.
I seriously don’t want to do that, but the project needs to be wrapped by the end of the month.
Can you honestly tell me that she’ll be back next week?” Helen demanded as Wilson fidgeted
before her. It was all a fabrication, she had no plans of losing Sam from the project, but she knew
Wilson was loyal to Sam, and she also knew she needed to know what was wrong. Her guess was
that Sam had quit the project. She should have seen it coming. Wilson closed his eyes and then
opened them looking at Helen with a sick expression of pain.

“Helen, I know I should have said something sooner, but I’m not sure that Sam is going to be able
to see the project through.” He said it as if he was glad she had offered to accept another designer
in Samantha’s place.

Her face fell, and she felt a distressed butterfly spring forth in her stomach. “What do you mean?
She is the project. The design is hers, and if she’s concerned about Charlie you should tell her that
he can be persuaded.”

Wilson moved his fingers around themselves restlessly, and contemplated the best way to say
what he knew he must. Sam would be angry that he had taken such action, but he knew that it
would be a while before she could return to work, if at all, he added to himself morosely.

Helen turned suddenly, and started toward her office down the hall. “Forget it, you know what? I
know where she lives, I’ll tell her myself. I’ll convince her,” she called to him over her shoulder.

Wilson was right behind, and closed the door behind him when he entered her office. “Listen to
me Helen, she can’t be convinced because it’s not what you think.” He hesitated, and Helen’s
stomach dropped.

“Helen, Samantha has cancer. She didn’t want anyone to know outside of the company. She
thought she would be able to work through the treatments, but it hit her suddenly. Believe me
when I say she wanted to complete this project. Sam is not one to quit.” He stopped off
immediately when he saw the vacant expression in her eyes. She leaned heavily against the desk,
and closed her eyes. A fierce grief rose inside her chest, and she battled to hold down the
emotions that threatened to explode from within her. She felt such a literal pain that it was as if
Sam’s condition was her own. Looking back on the moment later, Helen would wonder why she
felt such a fierce agony at the thought of losing Sam, a person she had only met weeks before, but
she knew then as she would know all her days that Sam was an extraordinary soul that once
having touched your life could never return you to the way you were.

***

Samantha had spent the greater part of an hour in her studio in front of a blank canvas. She would
load the paintbrush with a crimson color and hold it up to the canvas, and then her mind would
empty and she’d pull the brush away, five minutes later she would do it all over again except this
time it would be a somber blue instead of a spirited red. She was just about to quit for the day
when she faintly heard a soft knock on the front door. She ran through a list in her mind of who it
could be; Linda, Paul, Wilson...Gwen. She stood in front of the door, breathed deeply, and pulled
it open to see Helen standing there with a troubled smile on her lips.

“Helen...hi...how are you? Come on in,” Samantha said with uncertainty mingled with an obvious
mixture of fear in her voice.

“I’m sorry to come by without calling you.” Helen looked at Samantha and stopped, breathing in
and out and in with slow, cautious breaths. She didn’t know how to say what she needed so much
to so she just uttered, “I need to talk to you...about the project.”

Sam stepped back to allow Helen to come in, and said, “Of course, come in. I’m sorry that I
haven’t been able to make it to Trask, but I’ve caught a bit of a bug. It’ll pass in a few days.”

Helen walked into the entry way, internally flinching at Sam’s effort to keep such awful truths to
herself.

“Just a bug?” Helen asked silently pleading for Sam to say the words herself. She wouldn’t
confront Sam with what she knew, she had to wait until Sam was ready to tell her.

Sam contemplated, and making her mind up, she put her chin forward and resolutely said, “Yes,
just a bug.”

Helen knew then that Samantha had no intention of telling her. She felt an inner sting at that, but
asked herself what right she had to demand to share in this woman’s pain. None she confessed. “I
just needed to know when you might be back. The project needs to be completed by the end of
the month.” She heard the hard edge to her words, and wished she could handle this without
showing the hurt she felt.

Samantha swallowed hard, and said, “I’m sure I’ll be able to return for tomorrow’s design
meeting.”

That wasn’t what Helen had wanted to hear. She had come here in the hopes that Samantha
would want to tell her everything, that she needed to share this with someone. She had planned it
all out, she would tell Samantha that she would force Charlie to restore Sam’s original design
even if she had to go through Bryan Trask to get it done. Then Sam could stay home to heal, and
Helen would see her through it. If she could do anything for Sam, she would do this. But
Samantha would not open up to her, nor would she allow herself to stay away from the project.
Wilson had been painfully straightforward in his description of Samantha’s illness, and what she
put herself through on a daily basis, and now Sam was unknowingly asking Helen to be an
accomplice to her pride. Samantha would rather come to work suffering than turn away from,
what she felt was her duty to Trask. Helen wouldn’t do it, as painful as it would be, she would
dismiss Sam from the project, and let her free to recover, even if Sam insisted on doing it alone.

Helen braced herself and said it quickly before she lost her strength. “Samantha, I think that the
project is at a point where you can no longer add anything constructive.” No emotion, she told
herself, I must show her no emotion. “You have attributed more than you’ll ever know to this
project, but you’ve done all you can to defend your original idea. The rest will be left up to
Trask.”

Sam felt a rough breath catch in her throat, and she clenched her jaw. “Are you releasing me from
the campaign?”

Helen hardened her face to mask her anguish, and continued. “Samantha, I will do whatever can
be done to succeed with the campaign, but I just don’t feel that you’re necessary to the project.
I’m sorry.” She said the last with a slip in the mask, just enough that her eyes showed a moment’s
hesitation.

Samantha let out a trembling breath. Shock pounded in her chest, and disbelief ran through her
veins. After seeing all that Helen had been willing to do for Samantha, she couldn’t believe that
that same woman was now the one who was letting her go. She felt betrayed and in some foreign
part of her heart, she felt abandoned.

“If that’s the way you feel, then I’ll just wish you the best on the campaign,” Samantha said in her
most professional voice, as she stood straight and unwavering.

Helen couldn’t leave without letting Sam know in some small way that she knew and that she
cared. “Sam, I truly am sorry, and if you were to ever need a...a friend then I would be honored to
be that friend.” She realized how false she must sound, and could only will Sam to believe her.

This time when Sam looked at Helen she saw the person that she remembered. They seemed like
two different people, the one who had defended her, and the one who had discarded her. She
begged with her eyes and pleaded with her heart to know why, but Helen didn’t move. “I’ll
remember that,” Sam said in a cold distant voice.

Helen faltered, and nodded a deeply felt farewell to someone she believed she might never see
again. Samantha walked her to the door, and watched as she walked away down the hall. Just as
she was about to round the corner, Helen turned, and looked at Sam with tormented blue eyes,
and she said, “I hope you feel better soon.” She disappeared around the corner then, and Sam
looked on in disbelief.

When Helen reached the elevator, and after the doors had closed, she squeezed her eyes shut and
leaned her head against the cool of the mirror on the wall. She rubbed her hand back and forth
over her eyes pushing her last image of Sam into the back of her mind. She thought of a million
different ways she could have handled the last ten minutes of her life. She could have told her the
truth, that she knew Sam was sick, she could have been waited until Sam was ready to tell her,
she could have allowed Sam to continue working, she could have...

A single tear slipped down her face, hot and fiery on her cheek She brushed it away hastily with
the back of her hand, and drew a deep trembling breath. When she had reached her car she looked
up to where she thought Sam’s apartment might be, and she thought she saw Samantha there
looking back at her, a silhouette in the window with her hand pressed against the glass beckoning
farewell. Or had she imagined it? She turned reluctantly and drove away, out of the parking lot,
and onto the road.

From her third story window Samantha pulled her hand away from the glass, and turned with her
back to the wall. She slid down to the floor with her hands wrapped around her knees. She looked
around the room that was her studio, and she wished the world, including Helen Riley, away from
her mind, and her heart.

Chapter 11

When Helen reached her office, she made a determined phone call to Bryan Trask’s home, the
President of Trask Media. She knew that going over Charlie’s head and straight to his father, that
she was putting her job at risk, but she was beyond the point of feeling intimidated by that
possibility. Bryan’s wife, Gina answered in a polite southern accent, and she made mannerly
conversation with Helen while Bryan made his way to the phone. When he came on Helen
professionally explained to the company president her account of the progress, or lack thereof, of
a multi million dollar advertising campaign. He became instantly concerned and in his voice, Helen
could hear that Bryan Trask had expected as much from his son, and that he was determined to
set the company right.

She hung the phone up, and collected her briefcase, and made her way to the elevator. As she
descended it stopped on the second floor, and Noah Rankin stepped in beside her. He gave her a
friendly nod, and folded his hands behind his back waiting for the elevator to reach it’s
destination. As the doors opened they both stepped out, and Noah walked beside her to the front
door.

“Miss. Riley, I think, right? Noah asked. Helen nodded and continued out into the warm evening
air. “What do you think of the design on the ad campaign?”

Helen couldn’t help but admire his incredibly bad timing. She stopped and turned to him with cold
infuriated eyes. “I think it’s a disaster in the making. I think it’s been one of the biggest headaches
that I’ve encountered since I moved to this state, outside of Austin traffic. And finally I think that
it’s a shame your company’s most talented designer isn’t able to do her work without it being
trampled and destroyed beyond recovering.” She turned away and stormed toward her car. She
could hear his footsteps right behind her, and she grinned because she still had so much more
anger to burn off, and apparently he wanted to be her target. She turned on him, and waited to
hear his response.

“If you feel that way, then why not stay with the original design?” he demanded to know. “You’re
right, it was better, much better.”

She stared at him struggling to find an answer. “It isn’t my call, that’s why.”

He shook his head at the ground and said, “Then why did Wilson tell me that it was you who
excused Samantha Thomas from the design team? If you really wanted to salvage this project then
you would rethink your decision. She is Imagine’s greatest designer, and you’ve undone this
project, if you proceed without her.”

Wilson had already told them. She didn’t know how to respond to him, he was right in all that he
said. “Yes, that’s true. I did release her from the project, but I have my reasons.”

“And what might they be?” Noah was the one getting angry now.

“I made my decision based on what Wilson has told me about her condition,” Helen answered in a
tired voice.

Noah was silent, and after an awkward moment he nodded his head. “Is she worse?”

Helen wasn’t sure what the answer to that should be, she had just found out that morning that
Sam had even been ill. Was she worse? Well compared to what Helen knew before this morning,
then yes she was much worse. “I don’t know that she’s worse, but Wilson...and I ...both think
that it would be better for her if she took this time off.”

“And doesn’t she have a say? I know Sam, and I know that she likes to call the shots in her own
life. How can you and Wilson make that decision for her?” He shook his head and walked away
from her, leaving her standing alone in the parking lot with his words echoing in head.

She hadn’t even given Sam the knowledge of why Helen had dismissed her from the design. She
closed her eyes and saw before her Samantha as she had looked that first day showing Helen her
design proudly, and then another image jumped before her eyes, an image of Samantha as she
heard Helen tell her that she wasn’t necessary to the project. Sam hadn’t been able to hide
anything, every emotion that traveled across her face was like a wound in Helen’s soul. Helen had
hurt Samantha by lying to her, by deceiving her in the worst possible way. She had been so sure
that she knew what was best for this woman, and now the knowledge rested within her that she
had caused her to suffer even more.

She jumped in her car, and sped through busy highways until she arrived in front of Sam’s
apartment building. Still sitting in her car, she looked up at Samantha’s window through dark long
lashes, and saw the darkness there where it seemed light had always shined.

She walked slowly up to Sam’s apartment, and she hesitated when she reached the door. She
knocked lightly, and waited. Samantha opened the door, and her look of shock sent a warm
feeling of affection through Helen.

“You’re not going to slam the door in my face, are you?” Helen asked.

“No, should I?” Sam asked, taken off guard.

“If it were me in your place, I probably would,” Helen answered as she walked past Sam into her
apartment. “Ever since I walked out your door this afternoon, I’ve had this urge to come back.”
She paused. “ I’m not good with these kind of discussions.”

“What kind of discussions would that be?” Sam asked, bewildered.

Helen squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her left hand across her eye, trying to contain herself.
She breathed deeply, and plunged ahead. “This morning when I asked Wilson how you were
feeling, he told me. He told me that...you have cancer.” The word dropped off Helen’s tongue
into the middle of the room. She stared at Samantha waiting for her to say something.

Sam was speechless, she walked into the living room where she sat down on the sofa. She stared
straight ahead, and tried to formulate an intelligent response, but none would come. She sat there
for, what felt like, a very long time before Helen walked over and sat beside her.

“Is that why you let me go?” Sam asked.

“Wilson told me that you were having a hard time, and I thought it would be best for you if you
didn’t have to deal with this project right now. I didn’t tell you about what Wilson had told me,
because I didn’t think that you even wanted me to know,” Helen said softly.

“This was why I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want your pity, or your condolences. And I
don’t want you deciding if I feel well enough to work.” The tears were thick in Sam’s throat, and
she tried to swallow them, but they rose to the surface, and flowed freely down her cheeks. She
brushed them away in annoyance.

“I know, Sam. That’s why I had to come back. I had to tell you the truth.” Helen was stammering
for words to comfort the small woman, but nothing she could say would comfort the pains
Samantha felt. She reached over and pulled the woman close to her, and held her for what seemed
an eternity. The light outside disappeared, and finally Sam got up to find the light switch. Her eyes
were swollen, and her cheeks were still wet. She walked into the kitchen and put a kettle on the
stove. Helen just watched her from the sofa.

Sam brought two steaming mugs of tea over to Helen and sat down beside her. They sipped their
tea, and neither broke the silence that had formed. Several minutes later, when they had finished
Sam said, “I know it wasn’t fair of me not to tell you, but I wasn’t sure of what you’d say. I’ve
been tiptoeing around, afraid that Gwen Abbot would tell me I could no longer work for Imagine.
I guess it’s become this big ugly secret.”

“Instead of Gwen, it was me,” Helen said self loathingly. “This campaign has become so stress
laden, that I thought it was more than you needed right now.”

Sam didn’t say anything.

“But listen, I made a call to Bryan Trask today, the President of Trask Media. I am confident that
he will see your ideas, and turn this project around. He is the only one who can overturn Charlie’s
authority. It’s obvious to everyone that your design will sell, and Bryan will see that too,” Helen
said with enthusiasm she hoped would spread to Sam.

“Does that mean I’m back on the design team?” Sam asked.

Helen gave a soft gentle laugh, and said, “Of course, you are the design team.”

Samantha smiled then, and it felt as if a door had been opened into a room that had been dark for
a very long time, and the person who had opened that door was Helen Riley.

“I care about you, Sam. I want to see you through this,” Helen said.

“Why would you want to go though something like this with me?” Sam asked with fresh tears in
her eyes.

“Because that’s what friends do, they take care of each other,” Helen replied, brushing away an
arrant tear that had escaped her eyes.

Chapter 12

When Bryan Trask walked into Trask Media heads turned. Three months ago, Bryan had named
his son, and VP, as the immediate person in control, while he entered semi-retirement. Whether he
appreciated being pulled back out of that retirement was yet to be seen. He marched down the
hallways and into Charlie Trask’s office, where he slammed the door behind him and did not come
out until two hours later, with a disconsolate son behind him. He stormed his way to the design
offices, and found Samantha Thomas and two other designers waiting to give him their
presentation. After they were finished, Bryan shook their hands and left again without another
word. Samantha shrugged to Noah, and began putting away her materials.

Bryan Trask advanced on Helen Riley’s office next, where he put into motion the original design.
Helen sat with a knowing smile on her face looking at Charlie as he retreated behind his father.
They were victorious! She was exuberant, and she ran downstairs to the design department where
she found Sam and Noah waiting. Shouts of surprise and relief could be heard five doors down,
and it brought smiles to all that heard.

Helen took Samantha, Wilson, and Noah out to a celebration dinner that night. Samantha couldn’t
remember the last time she had laughed so hard. It was a joy to sit among people who laughed
freely with her, all seeming to be oblivious that there could even be a reason for less than bliss.
Samantha forgot, if only for one evening, that she had appointments to make, and doctors to see,
she only saw the moment, and for Sam, there was nothing greater than the moment.

***

Two weeks went by, and Samantha was enduring her tenth chemotherapy appointment. Helen had
convinced Samantha to let her come. This would also be her two month checkup, which she was
not looking forward to. Helen sat beside Samantha describing the Virginia beaches, and explaining
why they were so much better than Texas beaches, while the nurse hooked the IV into
Samantha’s inner arm. Helen recounted college horror stories to Sam, while the liquids dripped
into her body. Helen waited while Samantha withstood a CT scan to see if the cancer was
spreading. Samantha allowed Helen to accompany her into Doctor Sigel’s office.

“I want to remind you, before we begin, of a few traits of Hodgkin’s Disease. Most patients now
survive at least five years with treatment, and many go on to be cured. When a patient goes into
remission, a significant number of them relapse, but when treatment is continued and a patient
goes into remission for more than five years, then relapse is not common. However Hodgkin’s
spreads easily throughout the body, and after having seen the results of your CT scan it is clear
that the cancer has spread.”

The Doctor continued speaking, but Helen had been unable to process beyond ‘the cancer has
spread’. Wasn’t chemo supposed to keep cancer from spreading while curing you of the cancer
you had? Helen looked to Sam who had turned pale with the news. She stared at the Doctor as he
explained the next course of treatment. She was only two appointments away from finishing this
course of chemo, and now he spoke of radiation. Helen reached over and took Samantha’s hand
in hers and squeezed to let her know she was there. Samantha gave a weak squeeze back, and
continued concentrating on the Doctor’s every word. Samantha and Helen shook hands with the
Doctor and walked out of the office. Samantha walked straight ahead, and sat down on a padded
bench in the hallway. She put her head in her hands and rocked back and forth. Helen sat beside
her, and put her arm around her stopping her rocking motion.

“I can’t do this, Helen. I can’t do this anymore,” Sam said through tearless eyes.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. Did you hear what he said? Most go on to be cured.” Helen tried
to encourage Samantha, but she felt Sam’s discouragement as tangible as she felt Sam’s body
beneath her hand

“He said many, not most.”

“Let’s get out of here, let’s go somewhere,” Helen said.

“Where?” Sam asked.

“When I first came to Austin, someone showed me an extraordinary thing, and I’ve never
forgotten it. Will you let me show you?” Helen asked with a smile.

“You mean you think there’s something in Austin that is extraordinary that I’ve never seen, and
you have?”

“You said it yourself, you could live in Austin your whole life, and never do all there was to do.”
Helen’s smile grew, and she stood knowing Sam would follow. Sam walked with Helen through
the once lonely hallways, now somehow made less desolate by the presence of her friend. She
wasn’t sure why at a time when she should be grieving, she was excited by even the promise of
some mysterious extraordinary thing that couldn’t be forgotten, or so Helen had said. She set
aside the gnawing fear that worked through her mind, and let herself live only in this moment.

Chapter 13

“Can you tell me what could be so amazing on a bridge?” Samantha asked as she watched others
gather around them.

The sun was just getting ready to set, and hundreds of other people were crowding on the
Congress Avenue Bridge overlooking Town Lake, others were gathering under the bridge along
the lake shore. It was a beautiful Austin evening, but other than the reflection of an ideal Texas
sunset on the water, Samantha could see no reason for people to assemble around a bridge.

“Just wait a few more minutes and you’ll see. I can’t believe you’ve lived here for what, eight
years, and you’ve never heard of this,” Helen said as her eyes scanned the horizon.

“Heard of what exactly?”

“Ha, I’m not going to tell you. You have to see this for yourself.” Then Helen added as an after
thought, “Besides if I had told you, you might not have come.”

Samantha shot Helen a sideways look of suspicion. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw
them, bats! Over a million of them blanketing the crimson sky. They came from under the bridge
where she stood and they flew toward the horizon in a mob of activity. The sky was barely visible
through the flapping of their wings, and their shadowy bodies became fainter and fainter in the
darkening sky. Sam threw a surprised smile at Helen who only watched on in her own
amazement. In moments it was over, the sky was clear as if it had only been their imagination, and
the various onlookers began drifting away.

“You just saw the largest urban bat colony in the world,” Helen remarked turning to see Sam’s
reaction. Sam stared at the Austin skyline with a distant gaze. “They’re Mexican Freetail Bats,
and they estimate that every evening at sunset during the summers there are 1.5 million of them
that leave the bridge in search of food,” Helen continued.

Sam turned to Helen with clear green eyes overflowing with warmth and said, “Thank you, for
bringing me here to see this. You’re right, I never will forget what I saw tonight.” She turned her
gaze back to the sky and the two woman stood on a bridge overlooking the hilly vista while the
night around them descended in a gentle cover of soft darkness.

After Helen had seen Sam home, she drove down to Gentry river. It was a quiet secluded spot
that was only a mile from where she lived. In the summer and spring she loved to come here after
work and swim in the gentle current. She rarely encountered another person, and she had always
thought of the place as hers. Now the river caught the glow of the moon and reflected the
luminescent light causing the darkness to slightly recede.

Helen sat on a boulder near the water and pulled her socks and shoes off to dangle her legs in the
cool moving water. It was here that she broke down, and it was here that she released the sorrow
that had taken hold of her earlier that day in the doctor’s office. She poured her grief out and the
tears of that grief joined with the river in it’s journey home.

***

Even the smell of her paints now caused Samantha’s stomach to turn nauseous. Among cancer
patients she considered herself lucky, her hair had thinned somewhat but only she could tell, and
the nausea that attacked her on a daily basis wasn’t like the horror stories she had heard. In fact
the side effect that most affected Sam was the fatigue and the weakness that buckled her knees
and took her breath away. She had completed her final two chemotherapy appointments and was
well into radiation treatment. The lump Dr. Sigel had found was located in her lung, and that was
where the radiation was targeted. She would lay on the long flat surface, and hold very still while
a beam of light entered her body to battle the disease that afflicted her. Helen would always ask to
come with her, and most times Sam said yes, but there were days when she couldn’t stand to have
someone watch her when she felt so vulnerable and weak. Those times when she wouldn’t allow
Helen to come were the days that Sam felt the most dispirited.

When Helen was with her she felt lifted up, here was someone who gave her faith and hope.
Helen offered no pity, but she offered an abundant amount of compassion in every word she said,
and every movement she made. Sam would drink in Helen’s contented laughter and her easy
smiles, and she would find that she too could laugh with such freedom. She hadn’t seen Linda or
Wilson for days, and when she did, one look at their somber faces would turn her heart cold. They
had no faith in her survival, and when she was with them she doubted it too.

Time was becoming a crucial player in her attempt to recover, and it was not a lenient participant.
If radiation was unsuccessful, then the remaining options Samantha had were limited. Surgery, the
doctor thought was unlikely, and beyond that more chemotherapy. Samantha had come to the
decision that if it came to more chemo she would pull away from treatment, and take her chances.
The life that she had left would be wasted if she spent it sick in bed, she told herself.

***

One week had passed since Samantha Thomas had been admitted to Travis County Hospital. She
had come down with a mild cold which had rapidly progressed into pneumonia, common in
radiation and chemotherapy patients. When bloodcounts become lowered by the therapy, the body
can not fight infection.

Helen sat in a small plastic chair placed next to Sam’s bed, where she had spent many hours since
she had brought Sam here last Tuesday. She listened to the raspy breathing coming from her
friend and Helen took Samantha’s delicate hand and placed it to her forehead. She bowed her
head and said a healing prayer for Sam to the One she knew always listened. She pleaded and
begged, and ultimately she laid it at His feet.

Samantha’s breaths began coming faster and more difficult the following hour. Helen called for
the nurse, but the nurse checked her vitals, and said that her lungs were filled with fluid, and there
was nothing more to be done beyond what they already had.

Helen watched Sam’s chest rise and fall in irregular rhythms. She looked to the young woman’s
pale face with dark bruised circles under her eyes. Helen felt helpless, and she remembered a time
when she had believed that she could help Sam fight the trials that she faced. Had she been so
naive as to think she could defeat this for Sam?

She spoke in a whisper meant only for Samantha’s ears and said, “Sam, you have to fight, you
have to wake up and come back to me. How will I know you’re all right unless you wake up and
tell me?” She paused swallowing the tears that threatened to engulf her. “Noah completed your
design this week. It’s been sent to the press, and soon you’ll have to get out of that bed to come
see it.” Helen was silent for a time, and then felt the urge to tell Samantha everything. “My
mother wants to come visit me. She calls and leaves these maternal messages on my machine, like
‘get out and meet new people’, or ‘stop working so much’. But work is all I’ve ever known, and
it’s one of the only things that has never abandoned me. You, my friend, are the only person I’ve
ever known who didn’t leave me, and here you are trying to quit, trying to leave. I won’t let you
go. Wake up, and tell me that you won’t go.” Her words came out in choked sobs now, and she
stifled them into the blanket still holding Samantha’s frail hand. She fell into a restless sleep
troubled by dreams, and she didn’t feel the hand she held pull free and come to rest in her raven
hair, nor did she see the green eyes open and look upon her in the dark of the night.

Two days later, Samantha’s lungs had cleared and she was permitted to check out of the hospital.
Helen had convinced Sam to stay with her until the final radiation treatment in two weeks. At that
time she would have another checkup with Dr. Sigel to see if the cancer was still spreading. What
about after that, Helen wanted to ask.

Helen’s home was a large single story brick house. The interior had an earthy feel with plants in
every corner, and chestnut carpet. It consisted of an immense living area, three bedrooms, two
bathrooms, and an open library filled with bookshelves that held leather bound books. Samantha
felt swallowed by the impressive home, and wondered to herself how much the Creative Manager
for Trask Media made, anyway? Although Helen’s house was striking, Sam felt comfortable here.
A studio, she thought, all it needs is a studio. She laughed to herself, and tried to forget for the
time, that she hadn’t painted in over two weeks. There was an ache in her that called for a canvas
and paint.

The first day Samantha arrived at Helen’s she made good use of the queen sized bed. That
morning she sank into the soft down comforter, and remained there until late that evening. She
got up only long enough for a hot bath, and a bowl of soup before she returned to the bed. When
she walked into the kitchen the next morning there was a note on the dining room table that read:

Sam,

I had to go into work this morning (Bryan is paying us a visit - if you
could see me right now you would know that I’m rolling my eyes),
but I should be back before 3:00. I’m going to pick up some medications
that Dr. Sigel prescribed for you, and then I’ll be home. Take care, and rest!

Helen

Samantha wondered for the hundredth time why Helen was doing this for her. She couldn’t
comprehend the reasons why Helen would take such care of her, and share this immense burden
with her. She wouldn’t complain though, she had come to the realization that she needed help to
make it through, and that the only person she could accept it from, right now, was Helen. Sam
had also come to realize that she might not survive the cancer, and that the time she had left was
invaluable. She wanted to paint, and she wanted something to leave behind, a memory for those
she loved, not of the cancered Samantha but of the passionate woman she remembered being.
That woman loved to run, and dance, and she loved to laugh. More than anything, even painting,
that woman longed to laugh.

The following day Helen brought Samantha’s paints and a blank canvas to her home, and set it all
up in Sam’s bedroom. Helen sat cross legged on the bed while Samantha, in a black T-shirt and
faded jeans, with her hair in a ponytail, stood in front of the canvas. Helen thought she looked just
as she had the day she met her. Her golden hair still possessed it’s shine, and her skin still glowed
in annoying perfection. It wasn’t until you looked deeper that you saw the slightly hollow cheeks,
and the swollen circles under her translucent emerald eyes. When the sun shined on her just right,
as it did now, Helen could imagine that Sam was perfectly healthy, and that she would live
forever.

While these thoughts ran through Helen’s mind Samantha’s canvas began to transform itself into a
portrayal of a young girl with fair golden hair flowing in a Texas wind. The girl was wearing a
pale blue summer dress, and her hand rested on the full black neck of a beautiful collie. The little
girl had her head slightly thrown back, frozen midway in delighted laughter. Her cheeks were full
and pink, and her eyes were a striking green. Helen realized then who the little girl was, she was
the one in the other painting that she had seen at Samantha’s apartment, the portrait of the woman
and the young girl walking along the shore. And the girl was Sam, she had painted herself as a
child.

She looked to Sam and saw the memories relived in her eyes. Sam broke the silence and said, “I
remember that dog, her name was Molly. She would sleep on my bed, under the covers, with her
head on my pillow. I would wake up in a tiny ball at the foot of the bed, and there she would be
sprawled out, snoring away. She would run to the beach with me, and every time she would dash
toward the water as if she couldn’t wait to jump in, and every time she would lose her nerve and
veer away toward the sand. I’d go out into the surf, and call her, begging her to come out with
me, but she never would.” She turned from the painting to glance at Helen. “When I was that little
girl, every minute was so cherished. I would beg my mom, at bedtime, to let me stay up just ten
more minutes, as if ten minutes was all I needed in the world.” Sam swallowed, and paused
finding the memories too vivid. She took a deep breath, let it out, and continued. “When I finished
college, and I was looking for work, I would tell myself that I will be so happy when I can find the
perfect job. When I started at Imagine Advertising, I said, I would be so happy if only I could sell
one painting. And now, everyday, I tell myself that if I was cured I would be so happy. That little
girl didn’t need ifs and whens to be happy. She just chose to be, and she was. I loved that child in
me, and I long to find her again, and ask her how she did that. How did she do that?” Samantha
asked through tears.

Helen didn’t know if it was a rhetorical question or not, but she answered anyway. “I think that
little girl didn’t care if there was an if or a when, she just wanted her ten minutes, and for her dog
to come in the water. She wanted so little from life, and she got so much, that everyday was a
good day.”

“Is it too much to want to live?”

She seemed so desperate for an explanation that Helen’s heart ached to know the answer. “No,”
Helen blurted out. “It’s never too much to want to live, but you have to spend your time living,
not existing.” She moved to the edge of the bed where Sam sat beside her. “If you want to know
happiness, then let yourself be happy, Sam. I can’t know what going through this makes you feel,
but I do know that you leave joy in your path. Others see it, and feel it, I wish you would too.”

Sam nodded and let out a laugh of release. “So, tell me, what do you think?” she asked pointing
to the painting.

“I think it’s beautiful, Sam,” Helen answered. “I think it’s perfect.”

***

It was Tuesday, and the time had come for Samantha’s three month checkup. She had completed
chemotherapy and radiation treatments as well, and today she would know whether they had
worked or not. Helen waited with her on a sofa in a waiting room outside his office. Sam bit her
lip, and tapped her foot, the anxiousness spilling out of her every pore. She saw the door knob
turn, and watched as Dr. Sigel walked toward them. Helen stood to shake his hand, but Sam
couldn’t move. It seemed as if they were in slow motion, their words blurred, and their actions
too stiff. Dr. Sigel reached down and took Sam’s hand in his, and shook it lightly. Helen waited
for Samantha to rise, and followed her into the office. They sat in front of his desk, and waited
while he sifted through folders and charts. He pulled on a pair of reading glasses, and scanned a
file labeled, S. Thomas. He looked up to meet Sam’s eyes and Sam instinctively reached out for
Helen who took her hand and held it firmly and securely. Whatever the outcome, Samantha knew
that she was not alone.

Chapter 14

It was a beautiful warm Sunday afternoon with only a faint breeze whispering in her ears. It’s
echoes were of another time in this place in the darkness with only a moon to light the way. She
swirled her naked feet in the swift current of the water, and delighted in the chill that the cool
water sent up her legs, which had grown warm in the heat of the late summer sun. She looked
around herself at the green vegetation that hung over the water, and lined the rocky shores of the
Gentry river. There was a time when she wondered if the leaves would ever turn or change their
color. They forever seemed to retain their healthy green burgeoning color. Did their cycle ever
come around, she wondered. For all living things must be born, as the leaves are in the kind days
of spring, they must grow and flourish in the warm days of summer, they change and are glorious
in their beauty in the wise days of autumn, and at last they perish in the cold unforgiving days of
winter. Didn’t they?

Maybe there were some living things that went on forever like, souls and memories. Some of her
memories were dark, and she locked them away somewhere in her mind even though she wished
they could be forgotten. Other memories she clung to, as if they were a lifeline to her survival.
They could drop her to her knees in aching recollection, or they could bring a joyful laugh out
into a cold colorless day. They held a power all their own, and they were priceless in their worth.
But most of all the memories were hers to keep, to bring out like photographs on lonely nights.
They were a gift from the ones you loved most, and they never perished with the winter.

She shook her head in amusement, and wondered why she pondered such intense thoughts on
such a light hearted afternoon. Work was a world and a day away, while all that brought her joy
was right here in her midst. Helen watched Samantha as she lazily swam through the clear water
that ran over her body as she let the current take her where it would. After Sam had completed
the last radiation treatment she began to regain the muscle she had lost, and her cheeks were full
and flushed with the vigor of youth. There was a joy in her green eyes now that had been dulled
before, and her face seemed always on the verge of laughter. Her touch with the fear of death had
made her more daring and she attempted new things with a bold defiance.

She had been in remission for only a month, and there was a high probability that the cancer
would come back, and they would have to fight it again. But the fact that Samantha had defeated
it once was the only evidence she needed that it could, and would be conquered.

Helen recalled one day after the news had come, that there were no present signs of the cancer in
Sam’s latest CT scan. Samantha had brought Helen lunch, and they ate Philly Steak Sandwiches
over brown paper bags on the desk in Helen’s office. Helen asked Samantha, “What are you going
to do now?”

Samantha had looked at Helen over an onion ring, and she said, “I’m going to be happy, right
here, and right now. “ She smiled and the room glowed with delight. Helen laughed and gave Sam
an approving wink.

Helen stood up on the boulder where she had spent the afternoon soaking in the warmth of the
rock’s reflection. She stretched her tall body, and lightly jumped to the smooth surface of the
river’s shore. She waded out until the water reached her thighs, and looked down at the rock
shelf, which dropped off into deeper water, and could be seen clearly through the transparent
surface. She coiled her body, and sprang from the shelf into the water near the middle of the
river. A moment later, she broke through the surface pulling in a deep reviving breath of clean
Austin air. She ran her hands through her soaked black hair, and let her head fall back into the
water, with only her face still above. She felt movement to her right, and she pulled up right to
look at Samantha.

“Thank you for showing me your private little hideaway. I would come here everyday, if I were
you, and soak the day’s stress away, ” Sam said as she treaded the water with ease.

“Well, it’s yours now too, and you are welcome here whenever you like,“ Helen responded as she
watched Samantha swim into the shallower water near her. She circled the tall woman, with
sideways strokes, always keeping her eyes on Helen, as if studying her.

“Helen, have I thanked you for seeing me through all this?” she asked casually, still circling.

Helen smiled, and only answered, “Yes, many times.”

“Well, why? Why did you do that?” Samantha asked.

Helen looked to the water, which rippled with the movement of Sam’s circling. “Because I
wanted to.”

“Yes, but why?” Sam asked again, unrelenting.

She looked at Sam, uncomfortably, and said, “Because, Sam...I care about you.”

“Thank you!” Sam said with a laugh and a playful splash directed at Helen.

“What!? Why do you say, ‘Thank you!’ like that?” Helen said with a playful imitation of Sam’s
words, and a retaliating splash of her own.

“Because I wanted to hear you say it, and I thought you were going to make me yank it out of
you!” Sam said laughing.

“I’ve said that before,” Helen said with a playful hint of offense to her voice.

“Yes, but not when I wasn’t in the hospital, or getting drugs pumped into me. It’s nice to hear
when I’m sane enough to remember,” Samantha said as she continued to circle.

“Well, I’ll say it again for good measure. I like you, and I care about you. There!” Helen declared.
“Samantha?” she said after a moment.

“Yes?” she heard from beside her.

“I have something to show you, but eventually you’re going to have to get out of this water to see
it.”

In response she felt herself pushed underwater, and she reached backwards to grab a flailing leg.
She pulled up, causing the woman to join her under the water. She surfaced to see the last
spraying droplets of a splash from behind her. Sam came jumping to the surface, with a smile of
outrage on her face.

The sweet sound of their laughter echoed through the river valley, and carried off into the wind.

***

Samantha followed Helen through the door into Helen’s home, excited to find out what she was
brought here to see. Helen walked through the house, flipping the light switches and opening the
back screen door.

“Ok, go sit on the couch, and don’t move,” Helen directed to Sam.

Samantha did as she was told, and sat in the airy living room enjoying the bright sunlight flooding
through the open screen door. Not a moment later, Helen walked through the kitchen door, and
sat next to Sam holding a magazine to her chest. She held it out, wearing a proud smile.

Sam took it, and furrowed her eyebrows at the technical computer publication. She was afraid
that if she told Helen, that she had no interest, what so ever, in the deal of the month on monitors,
that she’d be offended. Helen only watched Sam, and waited patiently. Sam thumbed through the
magazine through advertisements, and an article on the ethics of photo manipulation on the
Internet, and then more advertisements, until her eye caught the familiar image of a fair haired
little girl standing alone in an empty room. It was her design, the one Helen had defended and
battled along side Samantha to protect. The one Sam had prepared for a company courier, what
felt like, a lifetime ago. Only the courier had never showed, and instead, a tall dark haired woman
had arrived, clothed not in armor but in compassion. Samantha looked up to Helen and reached
over to hug her in a tight embrace of gratitude and affection. Helen squeezed back, with a glow in
her face.

“The ad will hit 10 trade publications this week, and 5 more next month. It looks great, doesn’t
it?” Helen beamed.

“I can’t believe, after everything, that the design didn’t change at all,” Sam said in awe. She ran
her fingertips over the page tenderly. Helen watched Samantha as she carefully looked at each
detail of the advertisement, showing her approval with an ever growing smile. Helen looked away,
and bit down the stinging thought that had jumped into her mind, but it only settled itself deeper
and would not release her until she acknowledged it. What if Sam became sick again? What if she
didn’t recover next time? What if...? She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. She inwardly
shook her head, and gritted her teeth against the bitter anger she felt at her own helplessness.
Even if she could answer those questions, could she change their outcome? She had never felt so
vulnerable.

Samantha stood from the couch with the magazine held between her hands, and walked toward
the kitchen. She turned back suddenly. “ Helen? This means more to me than you know,” she said
looking to the magazine. “Not that the ad is published, but that you always believed in it.”

Helen returned Sam’s intense gaze, and said, “I always believed in you.”

Sam stood still, and let a small grin break the intense emotion between them. Her eyes lit up, and
she nodded shyly, and walked into the kitchen.

Helen watched her go, with the turbulent emotions still crackling in the air. She felt such gratitude
to the young woman, and she didn’t have the words to explain why. This person had come into
her life, and without trying, had changed her. She knew now, the meaning of the words, my one
true friend. But she couldn’t seem to say any of this to Sam. The only words that would form on
her lips were said to an empty room.

“I love you.”

The End (for now)

I would like to dedicate this story to those who battle cancer every day. God bless each and every one of you.

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