“Mom?”
A week after her admission to the hospital, Alice was back home. At the sound of Zoe’s voice, she sat upright in bed. It was crazy how her daughter—her voice, her smell, even her footfalls—could create such a yearning in her. She recalled the feeling from when Zoe was a little girl—standing outside her classroom at the end of the day, waiting to feel her sweet, soft body in her arms, to smell her sweet little head. Sometimes motherhood was a hunger, Alice thought. An addiction. Most people were gradually weaned from it as their child got older. Alice had got to indulge in it longer than most.
Zoe appeared in the doorway. “You’re home!”
She crossed the bedroom floor in three giant steps. She looked as though she was going to launch herself at Alice, but she seemed to stop herself, and she gave her a gentle hug instead. Alice closed her eyes and tried to drink her in, the way she had when she was little. Zoe stayed there in her arms until Alice let go. After an eternity, she did.
“When did you get back?” Zoe asked, sitting up.
“An hour ago. Sonja drove me. How was Kate’s?”
It was a silly question, since Alice knew how it had gone at Kate’s. Zoe had visited her at the hospital every day and given her the lowdown. (“It’s a bit weird,” Zoe had said one day. “Especially when Jake and Scarlett are there. They all eat dinner together in the dining room and talk about their days!”) But Alice could see that Zoe didn’t hate it there. She smiled when she talked about them. As hard as it had been, imagining Zoe with another family, it had also been a relief, knowing that she was safe and happy. It allowed Alice to concentrate on getting well.
“It was okay,” she said. “But I’m happy to be home.”
“Have they rescheduled your next chemo session?” Zoe asked. She’d asked about this each time she’d visited—she’d obviously been Googling, and she’d come to the same conclusion that Alice had—if the chemo stopped, it wasn’t good news.
“I have a meeting with the doctors next week to discuss next steps,” Alice said carefully. And she smiled brightly. Dr. Brookes had told her she should remain optimistic and that’s exactly what Alice planned to do.
*
Alice was having coffee with Sonja. And if that wasn’t strange enough, the whole thing had been Alice’s idea. This morning, when Sonja called around unannounced to check on her, Alice found herself suggesting it. There was only so much sitting around the house someone could do, and Alice didn’t exactly have a huge selection of people offering to take her out and about.
“How are you feeling?” Sonja asked her.
“I feel good,” Alice replied, sipping her coffee. It tasted bitter so she reached for a packet of sugar. “Much better since taking a break from the chemo.”
Sonja’s expression was hard to read. “Well I’m glad you’re feeling good.”
The truth was, Alice didn’t feel all that great. She hadn’t had any more infections, but she was constantly tired. A lot of days, she could barely get herself out of bed. Today was the first time she’d felt remotely like leaving the house. But no one liked a downer.
“I’ll admit,” Alice said, “I can’t wait until it’s all over.”
Sonja looked surprised. “You … can’t?”
“I just want things to go back to normal. Except,” she said, when Sonja opened her mouth. “They won’t go back to normal. They’ll be better. I’m going to go outside more with my daughter. Go on vacation. Dance!” Alice ripped open the sugar sachet, spilling granules everywhere.
Sonja didn’t say anything for a long time. “Did Dr. Brookes tell you things would go back to normal?” she asked, eventually.
“Well, he told me to be optimistic.”
“Alice, while it’s wonderful to be optimistic, it’s also prudent to plan for all possibilities.” Alice started shaking her head but Sonja held up a hand, silencing her.
“Just … think of it this way. Most people take out roadside assistance when they buy a new car. They don’t expect anything to go wrong with it, of course, it’s a new car. But it’s insurance. It means they know they’ll be taken care of. Just in case.”
Alice didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. She’d been focusing her energy on remaining positive—for Zoe. She didn’t see the point of “planning for other possibilities.”
Sonja’s hand was still in the air. Alice looked at her wrist. The bruise was yellow now, but still there. “What happened,” Alice asked, “to your wrist?”
She hoped it sounded like a change of topic rather than an accusation—even though the truth was, Alice was suspicious. And her suspicions were confirmed when Sonja immediately shrugged it back under her shirtsleeve. “Oh, nothing,” she said. Sonja looked for a moment like she was going to continue, but she just stopped as though she’d lost her train of thought. For the first time, Alice wondered what was going on behind her perfect, Botoxed exterior.
“Are you married?” Alice asked. Sonja wore a ring, but she never talked about her family—and Alice had never asked Sonja anything about herself.
“Yes,” Sonja said.
“Kids?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately not. I married too late for that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sonja shrugged, sipping her coffee. “George and I have a full life.”
“Lucky you.”
“Well, it’s not as though things are perfect. No marriage is.” Sonja put down her cup.
“I wouldn’t know,” Alice admitted.
“You’ve never been married?” Sonja asked. “Not to Zoe’s father?”
“Not to him or anyone else,” Alice said. “I’m not sure if that makes me lucky or unlucky.”
Sonja’s eyes were downcast as she absently swept the loose sugar granules into a pile. “At the beginning, you think it’s all going to be happiness, romance and charm. Then real life creeps in. You know, the ugly stuff.” Sonja’s mouth twisted on ugly stuff. She was speaking in a slightly detached way, as if she’d forgotten Alice was there.
“Ugly stuff … like your wrist?” Alice asked.
Sonja glanced up quickly. Consciously or unconsciously, she fiddled with her shirtsleeve again. “All sorts of ugly stuff,” she said eventually.
Suddenly Sonja seemed to remember herself. “But … life has its ups and downs, doesn’t it?” She pasted on a false, bright smile. “During the downs you just have to remind yourself that the next up is just around the corner.”
“I agree,” Alice said. “Although … while it’s good to be optimistic, isn’t it prudent to plan for all possibilities?”
They locked eyes. Alice cocked her head. For the first time, Alice felt like they were both actually seeing each other.
“That’s familiar advice,” Sonja said.