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“She’s sick?” The question comes out as more of a statement, since I’m sure I already know the answer.
He hesitates for a minute, then nods. “Liver cancer. They caught it late. She needs a transplant soon. Odds of that happening aren’t good. The focus now is pain management instead of treatment.”
All I can think isFuck.
In nearly every way, I lost my mom a long time ago.
But in one important way, I never did.
For the past few years especially, since she ambushed me, I’ve known where she lived, not just that she was alive.
She was never gone in that final, permanent sense.
The way my dad is.
I’m barely aware of the man walking past me and continuing down the hallway. The man who I’m ninety percent certain I don’t like and whose name I don’t even know. The man who’s bringing my mom to the hospital because she has a disease that will most likely kill her.
I back up until my spine connects with plaster, sucking in a deep breath of antiseptic-scented air. Shaken in a way I can’t fully comprehend. I just got sideswiped by a situation I never saw coming.
I can read between the lines just fine.
My mom is dying.
She walked away from me and Sydney without looking back. Aside from seeking me out after my dad died, she’s never made any attempt to cross the distance she created.
Never apologized.
Never suggested she regrets her decision.
Families fracture in all sorts of ways.
She didn’t have to ensure the break was permanent. She chose to leave. To remain gone, as we grew up and after our dad died.
Three nurses pass me before I move. Two shoot me concerned looks. One sends me a flirty smile.
I find the restroom and return to the waiting room in a daze.
Finn glances at me as I sink back down into the chair next to him. “You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
My tendency is never to talk. I bury things down until there’s no space left. Even then, I don’t talk. I punch or I yell or I drink until the ugliness is expelled.
I lean my head back against the wall and stare at the mint green one across from me, resenting whatever coincidence landed me in the same place at the same time as my mother. Mark’s allergy. Her illness. My need to pee.
My mom is dying.
And I wish I didn’t know.
Music is blaring from the condo when I reach the entrance, audible even through the closed door. I exhale before fishing my keys out of my pocket. Catherine must be home.
I haven’t seen her since I got back from camp.
I’m grateful to her for stepping up after our dad died. For taking in Sydney and Lily. I wouldn’t have gone to college otherwise.
But it’s an awkward dynamic. She’s a full decade younger than he was, meaning she’s closer to my age. Not much of an authority figure. The only reasons she stuck around after Sydney graduated high school had nothing to do with us.
And I’m in a crappy mood already. Predictably, it took a while at the hospital for Mark to get the all-clear. Then I had to drive everyone back to the court to get their cars.
