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“That’s not funny,” I said darkly.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s not funny, and that’s why I haven’t said anything. All this will do is make everyone sad. I don’t want that.”
“What about what you need?” I asked.
“What I need,” she said, taking a deep breath, “is for you to let this go. Let it go and let me get back to work. I have another patient coming in any minute.”
She turned away from me without another word. I stared at the back of her head, watching her while she bent over her desk and shuffled some papers. Her shoulders were tight, and her entire body was trembling. No matter what she said, she needed people around her. She was scared. She was sick. This wasn’t something she could face alone.
I opened my mouth to argue again but the sound of an opening door distracted me. I turned my head to see my mom walking toward us. She was there to drive me home. She smiled and waved as she moved closer to us. When she saw the look on my face, she slowed down. The smile disappeared, and she looked from Tara to me nervously.
“Everything okay?” Mom asked.
“Hey Cathy,” Tara said. She plastered a fake smile on her face.
“Hi honey,” Mom said. She smiled back, but she looked worried.
“Caleb and I were just finishing up,” Tara said. “He’s good to go.”
“Tara,” I said softly. She shot me a warning look, but I ignored it. “You need to tell someone.”
“Not now,” Tara hissed, staring at me with a mixture of panic and rage.
Mom looked from Tara’s face to mine. She stared at us nervously until she couldn’t take the standoff any longer.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Ask Tara,” I said.
“Why are you doing this?” Tara demanded.
“Because it’s time,” I said firmly. “You can be mad at me, you can even hate me, I don’t care. You still need to tell someone.”
Tara didn’t say a word. She just glared at me while my mom continued to look back and forth between us.
“Tara,” she said softly. “Tara honey, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
At the sound of her voice, Tara deflated. She turned away from me and locked eyes with my mom. I watched as her resolve weakened. I had her backed into a corner, and she knew it. She didn’t have a choice anymore.
“Cathy,” she said. “A couple weeks ago, I was diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer.”
“Oh my God,” Mom breathed.
“Let her finish, Mom,” I said.
“I was having headaches,” Tara said. “They were getting worse, so Dad insisted I go see someone. I went in for some tests, and that’s when they found it.”
“Does your father know?” Mom asked.
“No,” Tara said. “I haven’t told him, and I don’t want to. Not yet.”
“What?” Mom blinked. “Why?”
“Cathy, he isn’t even speaking to me right now,” Tara said, her voice weak. “How the hell am I supposed to tell him something like this?”
“I know he’s upset with you,” Mom said. “And I’m sure you aren’t too happy with him, but he loves you. Honey, he loves you more than anything. You have to know that.”
“What if he won’t even listen?” Tara asked. “What if I try to talk to him, and he turns away.”
