I’d been afraid to leave the house since finding out about my mom. Afraid she might… disappear, maybe. But she’d gone to bed for the night already—cranked up her white noise machine and closed her door. What was I going to do? Sit in the hallway and guard the stairs while she slept?
I could give Owen five minutes.
I hung the dish towel on the coat rack and stepped over the threshold.
Owen backed up less than he should have, and then there we were, standing way too close.
“What now?” I said.
“I just want to see you.”
I held my arms out like,Voilà.
“Can we just… talk? I have questions for you.”
“Fine,” I said, and started down the front walk. I didn’t even limp. I wondered if he’d forget about my ankle.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked then.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ve been off the crutches since yesterday.”
“Actually fine?” he asked. “Or firefighter fine?”
“Firefighter fine,” I conceded. “But it’s much better than it was. I’m being careful.”
“You’re limping a little.”
But I disagreed. “I’m not limping at all.”
“You’re walking gingerly, then.”
Funny to start with the ankle. It was the least of my worries now. “Next question.”
“Okay,” he said, following. “Tell me how your mom is.”
I took a deep breath. Then I just said it, fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “She has a brain tumor. That’s what caused the seizure. It’s a recurrence of melanoma. It’s malignant and very aggressive. She has a year to live at the most.”
The rookie had not been expecting that. He was quiet for a minute.
I intended to keep walking, but when I got to the garden gate, I slowed to a stop.
The rookie stopped beside me. “Did you know?” he asked, his voice softer.
“I didn’t know anything. She didn’t tell me. She actually told some fibs to throw me off. But I knew something wasn’t right.”
“How is she?”
“Weirdly, she’s okay most of the time.”
“How are you?”
My voice caught in my throat. I felt myself straighten and stiffen, like that might help. “I am struggling,” I said.
“Now you really need that hug,” Owen said.
Maybe I did. Somehow, though, it felt like that would make things worse. I shook my head at him. “Don’t hug me,” I said, and started walking again.
“Okay.”
