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“For whatever reason, she chose to keep it from him. In fact, that decision could have been caused by the tumor. Her infatuation with Rex Sharp may have been caused by the same thing. Mama has said more than a few times over the years that what she did was completely out of character. She’d known your mother her whole life. They were like sisters.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My mother had been sick? With a brain tumor. How was that possible? I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my middle, as if my insides were about to fall out all over the floor. Gutted. Is that what the word meant?
“How could she have kept that from my dad?” I asked out loud.
Atticus remained seated but pushed away from the table. “She had a brain tumor?”
“It’s possible she thought it best that no one knew,” Rafferty said. “Nothing she did in those days leading up to her death made any sense to anyone. This might be the explanation.”
“We have to tell Mama,” Atticus said.
“I’ll do that on my way back to the office,” Rafferty said.
“Would you mind if it’s me?” Atticus asked. “It seems like it should come from me.”
“Whatever you want,” Rafferty said gently.
I got up and wandered over to the sink, holding on to the edge with cold fingers. Taking in deep breaths to keep from passing out, I focused on a leafless tree in his front yard. What kind of tree was that? Who could tell without leaves? Who knew anything about anything? What appeared real might not be.
I slowly turned to look at the men. Both were pale under their tans and looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“Annie, are you okay?” Atticus asked, rising to his feet but not moving toward me. “What can we do?”
“Nothing. I just need a minute. Thank you for telling me the truth,” I said to Rafferty.
“It’s about time you understood what happened back then,” Rafferty said. “If there’s anything I can answer in the days to come, please don’t hesitate to call me.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet then slipped a business card out, handing it to me. “That’s my cell. Call anytime.”
“Thank you. If you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to go call my dad now,” I said.
I needed to be alone before I broke down in front of them.
My dad answeredon the second ring. “Hey darlin’. You doing all right?” His voice sounded sympathetic and so loving that I almost started crying. “I just saw the photos of you and Atticus.”
“You saw them? How come you didn’t call me?”
“I figured it was best to stay out of it,” Dad said. “How’s it going?”
“It’s been a little strange.” I paused to gulp air into my lungs. “There’s something I have to tell you. It’s about Mom.”
“Okay. Should I pull off the road for this? I’m just coming back from a job.”
“Yes, please do.” That last thing I needed was him getting in an accident.
Seconds later, he told me he was ready. I did the best I could to tell him what I’d learned without breaking down, but wasn’t entirely successful.
He didn’t speak for some time after I finished. Finally, he said, “All this time, I had no idea. She should have told me. I would have kept a better watch over her.”
I didn’t go into further explanation about how the tumor was probably the reason she did everything in those months before her death. He would put those pieces together for himself.
“She was dying, and she knew it,” Dad said. “And planned to spend whatever time she had left with Rex Sharp. I wonder if he knew?”
“My guess is no. But we’ll never know for certain.” Whatever I’d thought my mother had done or didn’t do had been completely obliterated.
“I don’t know how to process this,” Dad said.
“Me either.”
“I remember finding her crying in the bathroom about three months before she died,” Dad said. “Maybe she knew then. I thought we shared everything.”
