She headed to the interstate. Malin and Johnny would be back from school by now, doing their homework. Reagan’s mother would arrive later that night from Florida to stay with them. And Luke’s father, John Baxter, was going to spend the weekend with Ashley’s kids.
All so that for just a few days they could go back again, back to the events of a time the nation would remember forever. For everyone else it was history. But for Reagan and Luke, Ashley and Landon it was something more.
It was personal.
* * *
ASHLEY TOOK HER time on the hour-long drive back to Bloomington. Her dad and stepmom were already at the house, getting Devin and Amy and Janessa ready for a four-day weekend together. Tonight, dinner was pizza—so Ashley and Landon could focus on packing.
Like she had told Reagan, her time at the art gallery had gone exceedingly well. God continued to give her inspiration for her paintings and people kept buying them. But there was something she hadn’t told Reagan.
Landon’s cough was worse.
He wasn’t fighting a cold and he didn’t have bronchitis. No fever or chills or congestion. Just a cough. Worse than last year at this time. Maybe—if she was honest—Landon was a little short of breath. And possibly more tired than he should be.
So last night after Landon and the kids were asleep, Ashley had moved into the art space next to their bedroom, opened her laptop and started searching. It wasn’t the first time she’d been concerned about Landon’s health and certainly it wasn’t the only situation where she’d turned to the Internet for answers. Years ago Landon had struggled with lung issues, but then, miraculously, he had gotten better.
Maybe this was only a low-lying virus. Possibly he was struggling with seasonal allergies. Either way, last night Ashley suddenly had to know more about the current risks for people who had spent months sorting through the pile at Ground Zero.
She had long known there was a causal relationship between the toxins at Ground Zero and the undeniable spike in premature deaths among those exposed to them. But she hadn’t googled the situation in a while.
From the room down the hall, Landon’s cough had broken the silence.
And before it stopped, Ashley began the search.
Ground Zero and cancer
Ground Zero and lung disease
Deaths associated with Ground Zero
She found a police memorial site where a number of fallen officers from New York City looked to be in their forties and fifties. Strange, she thought. She hadn’t been looking for a police memorial. So Ashley began to click on the names of the deceased and her blood ran cold. Almost all of them had died the same way.
9/11-related illness.
And so Ashley looked back through the years and what she found horrified her. Twenty-three New York police officers died on 9/11. But since then nearly 250 police officers had died of illnesses connected with 9/11.
Landon, of course, was a firefighter. So that led Ashley to her next search. What about firefighters who worked at Ground Zero? Again the numbers were staggering. Since 9/11, more than two hundred firefighters had died of cancer or other diseases connected to those events.
Then there was the big picture. Ashley had learned last night that more than ten thousand people exposed to toxins around Lower Manhattan after the terrorist attacks had now died of illnesses as a direct result. Recently, the city of New York had opened the Memorial Glade at Ground Zero. A new $5 million walkway to honor first responders who had died since the terrorist attack.
All of which meant one terrifying thing.
Landon’s cough needed to be checked out.
Ashley had also researched specialists who handled cases related to 9/11 and she’d found a doctor in Lower Manhattan. Then before fear changed her mind, she booked a consultation for early afternoon tomorrow. As soon as they arrived in the city.
Convincing Landon hadn’t been easy. “It’s nothing,” he had told her earlier this morning. “Allergies, my love. Every fall, remember?”
“Sneezing, sure. Itchy eyes.” She had put her hands on his shoulders and looked straight at him. “Your cough is worse, Landon. You need to see someone. Just in case.”
He had finally agreed and now Ashley was consumed with the sickening possibilities. Lord, let it be nothing. Landon is everything to our family… to me. She could see him as clearly as if he were standing in front of her.
Tall, still dark hair. As fit as he’d been in his firefighting days.
Landon was the Bloomington fire chief now. He spent his days at a desk—managing his department and being the liaison for community relations. But back in the day he had been involved in a number of deadly fires—one where he saved the life of a little boy and wound up in the hospital fighting for his own life.
But all that had been only kindling to the toxins he was exposed to at Ground Zero, working fourteen-hour days until he helped find the body of his best friend, Jalen. Ashley tightened her jaw. Let it be a cold, Lord. Heal Landon, please. All day she had silently talked to God, begging him for peace. Remembering words from the Bible to soothe her anxious soul.
Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.
Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things…. And the God of peace will be with you.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…
Over and over and over.
Traffic back to Bloomington was light so Ashley pulled into the Baxter house driveway sooner than she’d expected. Tomorrow at this time not only would they be in New York City, remembering the events of nearly two decades ago. They would have answers about Landon’s health. And as much as Ashley wanted to know, she wasn’t relieved at the thought.
She was scared to death.
5
Annalee sat on a cold metal chair a few feet from an enormous donut-shaped machine. The scan would take place in a few minutes. Until then, the tech had told her to wait. Already she’d been here longer than that. She looked at the flat surface extending into the donut and the panel of instruments beside it and she had just one thought.
She wished Tommy were with her.
Why did he have to wait in the other room? Didn’t the medical people understand how nervous she was, how frightened she felt even doing this? A shiver ran down her arms. She pulled her phone from her purse and texted her mom.
The doctor ordered a scan for me. It was in the same building, so Tommy brought me here. I’m waiting now for the tech so we can get it over with. Do they use a scan to diagnose mono? Honestly, Mom, I’m afraid. Please pray.
Almost as soon as she sent the text, her phone rang. Annalee wasn’t sure if she could be on the phone in this place, but she didn’t care. “Hello?”
“Honey, why didn’t you call me earlier?” Her mother sounded frantic. “I had no idea they’d order a test the same day.”
Annalee closed her eyes. “Me, either.” She sucked in a quick breath and blinked. Don’t panic, she told herself. Stay calm. “The doctor said… it could be mono. He took blood.”
“Okay. Yes…” Her mom released a long breath. “That’s what we’ve been thinking. I had mono when I was in high school. It’s terrible.” She hesitated. “So that must be why they’re doing the scan.” She sounded relieved. “You just need more rest. Like we’ve been saying.”