“I hope you didn’t sleep withhim.”
“What!” I glared at him, and I could just feel that the scowl on my face probably looked like Momma: one brow arched, my nostrils slightlyflared.
“He’s nice, but come on, Hannah. You’re too good forhim.”
I faced the road with both hands gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles washed white, my entire bodytensed.
“Don’t believe me,huh?”
I didn’t say anything, just flicked the blinker a little toohard.
“He’s been in jail. Rumor has it he screwed Darlene at some party around NewYear’s.”
“She’sseventeen.”
“Exactly.” He shrugged. “I mean, I like him and all, but do you think Dad would be okay with you datinghim?”
“I don’t want todatehim, Bo,” I huffed. “And I’m twenty years old, it doesn’t matter what Daddythinks.”
“Okay,” he laughed. “I mean, I may be younger than you, but I’m notstupid.”
I turned to shoot another mother-glare at him and he had his eyes crossed with his tongue stuck halfway out of his mouth, like a half-drugged dog. “That’s what you looked like thismorning.”
I grabbed one of Daddy’s leather work gloves from the drink holder and whacked him with it. “Ioughtta…”
“But you won’t, because you’re my Nanner, and you’re just too nice.” He chuckled, more than pleased with himself as I turn into thedrive.
“I want to killyou.”
“I love you too,sis.”
______
It had been a week since I’d fallen asleep in Noah’s truck. A week since I’d seen him because he was always gone by the time I got home from work. But more importantly, during that past week, Momma had been feeling better. I wanted to be hopeful, but I knew it was par for the course. A few weeks after chemo, patients feel better, and then as soon as they go back for treatment, they’re down for thecount.
Momma took a seat at her dressing table and I stood behind her running the brush through her hair, horrified when a large clump came out in the brush. It’s something that you can’t truly appreciate until you see it happen. It’s just hair, after all, but it’s such a cruel reminder that something terrible is wrong. I tried to subtly drop the brush to my side when I pulled the hair from it. I wadded it up and tossed it into the small trashcan beside the dressingtable.
“Baby,” she said, reaching up and grabbing the hand I was using to brush her hair. “It’sokay.”
I took a steadying breath. She smiled before glancing in the mirror. “We should just shave it.” She nodded. “Sinead O’Connor—I always thought she was beautiful. You think I could pull that lookoff?”
I leaned down beside her and looked at her in the mirror. “You could pull off any look with an abundance ofgrace.”
Sighing, she wrapped her arm around me and pulled my cheek against hers. “You make all thiseasier.”
I choked back the tears and moved away, patting her arm. “Want me to get Daddy’s electric razor?” I should have said thank you, maybe told her I loved her, but all I wanted to do was pretend it was all okay. I wantedpeace.
Twenty minutes later, there was a circle of hair on the floor, and she was rubbing her hand over a smooth head. “Well”—she inhaled before grabbing a tube of mascara from the dressing table—“all I need ismascara.”
Even without hair, she was stillbeautiful.
She swept a coat of mascara on before standing and holding out her arms. “What do you think your father willsay?”
“I’m certain he’ll loveit.”
“Think he’ll call me a rebel?” She arched a thinningbrow.
“I’m sure hewill.”
