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“Uncomplicate it.”
I exhale in frustration. “Don’t you think I want to?” This entire week, I’ve tried to figure out what I can say to get through to her, but all I keep remembering is the finality in her voice.
Nancy stares at me, waiting. Finally, she presses her palms against the island in front of her. “She won’t be able to help with Tabby this next week. Did you know that?” I offer her a quick nod. “Did you know why?”
I swallow. “She’s having surgery. Donating her kidney to her foster mother.”
Nancy inhales sharply, and her eyes narrow on me. “Does that have something to do with what’s going on between you two?”
I close my eyes, rubbing my forehead. “No. Yes. Sort of.”
“That clears it up.”
“I might have panicked when I found out.”
“Because of what Sonya went through? Her medical problems?” Her brows have lifted.
“Not exactly.” I shrug. “June didn’t tell me. About the surgery. And I felt like she kept secrets.”
Nancy’s eyes widen with recognition. “Ah. Like Sonya did.”
I slide onto the island stool across from her. “Like Sonya.”
She covers my hand. “You know, I didn’t agree with how my daughter managed her illness.” I nod. We’ve talked about this many times. “But I understand it, and that’s the most important part.” I tilt my head in question. “You won’t agree with someone—even someone you love—about everything. That isn’t the point. It’s our job, when we love someone, to try to understand them. To know them.”
I scowl at her. “Of course, I understand why June’s doing this. It’s brave, generous. Amazing, even.”
“The actual donation isn’t the part you might not be getting.” Her voice is gentle. “Do you understand why she might not have told you?”
I exhale heavily. “No. I don’t.” When Nancy waits, I continue. “She hasn’t had an easy start.”
“Has she talked with you about that? About how she grew up?”
“A bit. She doesn’t like to talk about herself much.”
“Then ask yourself this,” Nancy continues. “What did she go through that makes it hard for her to open up to you?” She stands, patting my hand again. “Her surgery is tomorrow. If you decide you want to change your schedule, just let me know. I’m around all day.”
I sit at the kitchen island, staring at the slow cooker. Nancy’s words echo in my head, asking me to understand June. She’s right, of course. I should have been more understanding. I know firsthand how hard it is to open up about personal struggles. After Sonya died, I retreated into myself. Though I don’t know all the details about June’s life, the things I know are sad, even heartbreaking.
I should have been there for June when she needed me. I don’t know what to do or how to make it right. But I know I can’t let June go through this alone. Not after everything she’s done for me.
Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I type out a message to June, my thumbs moving quickly over the screen.I’m thinking of you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need. I want to be there for you if you’ll let me.
I hesitate for a moment, staring at the message. Is it too much? Not enough? I don’t know, but it’s a start. I take a deep breath and hit send. Almost immediately, my phone buzzes with a response from June.
Thank you. I appreciate your support right now.
I read her message. It’s not just thoughts and words I want to give her. I want to help, to be there for her during her surgery and recovery. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. Because I know one thing for sure: I love her, and I don’t want to lose her.
June
Isleeponthecouch at Lily’s apartment on Thursday, the night before our surgery. We’re supposed to check in tomorrow morning at six o’clock, so I figured it would be easier to just leave from here instead of coming from Violet’s in the city.
But apparently, Lily’s couch has the most uncomfortable cushions ever created. Either that’s keeping me awake, or it’s the text from Duke.
Shifting to my other side, I tuck my hands under my head. This week has been brutal without him. It’s worse because I’ve seen him, but I force myself to pretend like nothing happened between us. Like I don’t love him. I try to remind myself of all the reasons things can’t work. He’s my boss—was my boss. We are from completely different backgrounds. I was the subject of a gossip article about him and the reason he got called into the communication department. That’s even before I consider that I have no idea how to be in a healthy relationship.
I should have talked with him. I don’t even understand why I didn’t. Why couldn’t I open up to him the way I opened up to Violet? It should have been that easy. But I couldn’t.
