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“You’re asking because of my chest, right?”
“I wouldn’t, because fuck, not my business, but you look different from the night of the party, and I noticed and can’t help but wonder? I’m so sorry. I totally suck and I would love it if you could pretend I never opened my mouth.”
The feeling of family today had been strong, steady, and soothing. All day. Lyra, Siena understood, was her family now. Barely knowing Siena, not knowing Geneva at all, she’d rushed to the scene of a fire in the middle of the night, and she’d been standing beside them, literally and figuratively, ever since.
So Siena felt only the tiniest, vestigial qualm before she said, “No, I haven’t had cancer. But I have the BRCA1 mutation. Do you know what that is?”
Lyra climbed down from the stepstool and sat on the floor at Siena’s side. “I know. You had preventative surgery.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s hard. I’m sorry. It had to have been scary.”
“It still is. All the women in our family died of cancer. I’m the only one who had surgery to try to stave it off, but the odds are still scary. Just a bit less terrifying.”
Lyra’s expression went soft with sincere compassion. “God. I don’t even know ... what about Geneva?”
“They won’t test a child, so we don’t know.” She tried on a smile and thought it fit well enough. “I think about it every single day. All I can do is take care of her now and hope her father’s genes are stronger than my dad’s were.” With a quick shake of her shoulders, she cast the topic away. “Anyway, make the most of the life you’ve got, right?”
What a stupidly ironic thing for Siena to say, let alone think. She couldn’t remember a day she’d spent trying to make the most of it. For years, she’d lived just trying tosurviveeach day.
But that life had burned all the way to the ground. What would rise up from those ashes?
Well, early signs were: A good man. Friends and family. A soft place to land when she stumbled.
“I’m so sorry I pried into something so personal,” Lyra said softly. “I had no right.”
Siena smiled and put her hand over Lyra’s. “You know, it’s not something I talk about, but I’m glad I told you. It feels good not to have to hide or pretend—and not just about the way I look. I’ve never really shared thefearwith anybody before. I feel a little bit lighter right now.”
That was really true. Something was happening in this clubhouse in the middle of the desert. A new life was forming around Siena’s feet.
And so far, it was beautiful.
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~oOo~
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“They’re back!” Genevayelled as the roar of motorcycle engines filled the world outside the clubhouse. It was late, the first hours of a new morning, and Siena had wanted Geneva to sleep, but she’d flatly refused even to try. The most she’d acquiesce to was to lie on the sofa in a blanket bundle and watch HGTV.
All the women had joined her, eventually. Clustered on the furniture and floor, bundled up with blankets and pillows, like a very strange slumber party.
Geneva jumped up from the sofa, flung the blanket off her shoulders, and ran to the front door. Siena and Lyra stood and followed her.
They already knew their men were safe; Cooper and Zach had both called to say they were on their way, and everyone was whole, with nary a scratch. Nevertheless, Siena felt a rush of relieved adrenaline to have Cooper actually home.
This would be their life now, it seemed—these periods of anxious waiting and vivid relief. She fervently hoped life would be as full of the relief as the waiting.
Geneva was the first one out, and the men were just pulling up: three motorcycles and the van. Cooper hopped down from behind the wheel of the van and met Geneva at the foot of the porch steps.
“You’re home!” she cried—and then she and Cooper did something Siena had never seen them do before. They bumped fists, then elbows, then fists again. Like a secret handshake. Clearly, they’d worked that out together, but Siena couldn’t begin to guess when.
She had an idea about why, though: because Geneva didn’t like hugs. Shewouldhug, she understood she was ‘supposed’ to like hugs, but when she knew someone well enough to trust them with her truth, she told them she didn’t like hugs.
Geneva must have told Cooper—and Cooper had responded, it seemed, by inventing a replacement with her.
Siena could hardly believe she’d ever thought that man was a shallow party boy asshole.
