“It’s nothing,” her mom said, pushing away. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Hearing those words, delivered in that tone, was like hearing herself speak. Is this what she had sounded like? Her mom might have told her she was more like her father when it came to handling her emotions, but perhaps it was behavior she’d learned from both her parents.
“Mom, I can tell you’re not fine. Tell me what is going on, or I’m going to call Andy and Matt and have them come over right now.”
She shook her head violently, her silver earrings brushing her cheeks. “No, you can’t! Especially not Andy. Not until I know for sure.”
Dread coiled in her gut. “Know what?”
Her mom’s lip quivered. “I went in for my annual mammogram.”
The buzzing started in her ears, and she felt herself leave her body. “No.”
“I went in…and…they found a lump.”
Oh, no. Good God, no. Not again.
“They’re doing a biopsy.” Her mom grabbed one of her hands and clenched it, so hard she came back in focus. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone! It will kill Andy if…”
If she ends up having breast cancer like Kim.
Her mom pressed against her then. Hard. They embraced, clutching each other as the reality of what might happen filled the space between them.
“I’m not going to lose you,” she told her mom, her eyes burning with tears. “We’re not going to lose you.”
“Promise me, Natalie. Not a word to anyone.”
She nodded against her mom’s head. The grip they had on each other was designed to keep the madness at bay. Its cold breath was all around them now, whispering about pain and hurt and death. Of things like needles, tubes, and chemo. Of the erosion of hair and weight, and of the removal of a woman’s most beautiful feature, her breasts.
Natalie took her mom’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “I’m coming to the biopsy with you.”
Her mom’s lip wobbled. “Oh, honey. But you have work.”
Work? Did she really think that was more important? “I’m coming! And we’re going to be together when they give you the results.”
Her mom fell against her, trembling. “I’m glad you came. It’s been…so hard to keep this to myself. The only other person I told was Ellen. She said she would go with me.”
Ellen O’Brien had been April’s best friend since kindergarten, and Ellen’s daughter had been one of Andy’s best friends growing up. “I’m glad you told her.”
“She’s coming over in a while.”
“I’m here for you too, Mom.” And suddenly she felt so guilty for holding a grudge against her mom for intruding into her relationship with Blake.
“Shh,” her mom said in a soothing tone, smoothing her hands down her hair. “None of that now.”
They hugged and swayed back and forth in her mother’s small foyer until her mom got a cramp in her foot and broke away to rub it. Natalie made them a pot of tea, and after pouring it, found her mom’s playing cards. They played gin rummy and crazy eights to pass the time—just like she and Andy and Blake and the others had done while sitting vigil beside Kim’s bed at hospice.
Anything to pass the time. Keep the hands active. Keep the mind from going crazy.
Ellen eventually arrived, and Natalie’s mom sent her home. The biopsy was scheduled for two days from today. At the door, Natalie promised to come over the next day. Her mom clutched her hands like she was a life preserver, and though she told her there was no need to come, she didn’t fight her when she insisted.
The drive home was done on autopilot, and as soon as Natalie stepped inside, she dropped her purse on the counter. Blake hadn’t arrived yet. Touchdown pawed at her legs, wanting to play, so she opened the back door to let him out. She didn’t have anything for him right now—the cold phantom was calling her name again. The pain was spreading, so bitter and harsh she wanted to scream.
She didn’t want to feel it right now. She didn’t want to feel anything ever again.
It was all happening once more. She could feel it. Her mom was going to die, just like Kim, and nothing was going to stop it. She couldn’t stop it. She’d have to stand there and watch it unfold.
Blake had been wrong. Learning to express her feelings hadn’t changed a damn thing. The pain wasn’t less this time. The mad call on the edge of her mind was still there, louder and colder than ever. She wasn’t going to let it claim her.
She grabbed the tile powder and a sponge from under the kitchen sink and headed to her bathroom to do the one thing under her control. The tile powder fell down on her like rain as she shook it over the tiles. It burned her skin, and she welcomed the sting. Anything to fight the cold fingers and even colder breath touching her skin. She dug her fingernails into the sponge. Her breathing grew labored as she worked. Her heart raced.