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Her mom nodded. And remained silent.
The dense energy in the air made Mack squirm. “I panicked, okay? I thought being away from my surroundings, being around you and Dad, maybe that would… you know… spark something.”
“You waited a year to visit. Why?”
Did she actually want to hear this? Probably not. Mack could barely acknowledge the reasons herself.
“Why,” her mom repeated with a hardened voice.
Mack’s chin trembled. “I couldn’t look at you.”
“Because of my hair?”
“It wasn’t because of your hair.” Her voice turned shaky. “It was because of what I did.”
Her mother’s stern face swapped to confusion. “What do you mean, what you did?”
The words simmered below the surface. Three years of holding everything in… Lies. Guilt. Shame. Mack scratched at the back of her neck. She didn’t want to say it.
Her mom took a few steps closer. “Tell me.”
“I ran! I totally deserted you, okay? You gave upeverythingfor me. High school. College. Living in a different city. Your freedom. And what did I do when you got cancer? I focused on my book. I was more interested in writing, editing, and going on submission than seeing my own mom in the hospital. I’m such a selfish ass. I don’t even understand how you love me sometimes.” The last words barely came out as Mack started sobbing.
Her mother must hate her now. Every horrible thought Mack had about herself about how she responded to the diagnosis tumbled forward. She was an ungrateful, terrible daughter. Literally deserted her mom and dad to fight this battle on their own.
“Honey.” Kicked-off shoes hit the dresser. Her mom crawled onto the bed and pulled Mack into her chest. She rubbed Mack’s head and stroked her arms until her cries slowed. “You’re not selfish.”
Mack sniffed and dried her eyes on her sleeve. “I think I am.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
Mack sat up and plucked a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand. “But I didn’t see you because I was too worried about my book. Like, who does that?”
“Do you really think it was about your book?” she asked. “Or was it maybe about not wanting to see me sick?”
Mack’s heart sunk. She didn’t know. When her parents called and said “cancer,” everything changed. Multiple stages of grief blasted her within that first hour, but her body held on to shock and anger until denial consumed her. Focusing on her book somehow seemed more urgent than her sick mother.
After several minutes passed, her mom pulled back and looked at her. “I wish you could have met my nana. All fire and spunk, like a sugar-glazed jalapeño popper,” she started. “I used to visit her every Saturday, for tea and cookies, even though tea’s disgusting.”
“You must’ve really loved her,” Mack said quietly, but cracked a smile.
“I did. But the second she got sick, I stopped visiting. Every week morphed into every other week, then once a month, until she finally passed. I couldn’t stand to see her like that. I wanted to remember my vibrant nana, not a sick woman in the nursing home. I kept saying it was because I had homework or chores, but that was a lie. I was protecting my heart.”
Mack looked up at her and kept quiet.
“I’ll bet my life that you were doing the same.”
The words hung in the air as Mack exhaled and thought back to that time. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe the idea of her mom dying was too much for her.
“Now.” Her mom clasped her hands together and laid them in her lap. “We talk about repaying you.”
“You don’t have?—”
“Not a word. This is non-negotiable.”
With how firm her mom’s voice was right now, Mack knew there’d be nothing she could say to change her mind.
“Tonight, I’m gonna talk to your dad, and we’ll figure out a plan.”
