“Doctor’s office. Everything looks normal.”
“Well, that’s great news,” Will said.
She didn’t feel like it was great news. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. “Yeah, she said I can get my tubes out.”
“Your… Oh.”
“Yeah, I guess most ovarian cancer starts there? I said to call and schedule me.”
“Do you really need to do that if you don’t have a genetic risk?”
Yes. I have to. I feel like I might have a ticking time bomb inside of me, and why don’t you just know that?
“It feels like it’ll…help. With anxiety and all of that. If nothing else.”
“Isn’t surgery its own risk?”
“I guess,” she said. “But I need to do it. I need to…”
“How long will recovery be?”
She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just support her. Why he had to question the decision. She liked to agree with Will. She liked being on the same page.
In all things, she tried to have harmony in their relationship.
But she really felt like this was important.
“I’ll have a consult before I actually get it done.”
“I just don’t want you doing anything crazy because you’re…” He looked back briefly, then lowered his voice. “Because you’re grieving.”
Even she, who valued peace in her house above all else, would have raised holy hell at that statement if she weren’t just so…so tired. So foggy. Such a mess.
On her vacation.
In Hawaii.
Patricia Kent is dead.
But you’re in Hawaii. So suck it up. Everyone else doesn’t have to be miserable just because you are.
They were unloading everything from the cars when she realized she forgot swimsuits. What the hell mother forgot swimsuits on a trip to Hawaii. She just sat there, staring into the void that was her brain, trying to go over how she’d packed. She had lists. She had checked them off. She couldn’t even remember.
She never did stuff like this. Ever.
There was an ABC Store across the street, and there was a high likelihood she’d find board shorts there, and she’d just have to go as quickly as possible, before the boys wanted to go down to the beach or get in the pool.
“Shit shit shit,” she said into the emptiness of the living room.
“You okay?”
She turned around and saw Logan standing there in the doorway.
“No,” she said. “But we’re in Hawaii, so I’m going to get okay real quick.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I forgot the boys’ swimsuits.” She kept digging through the suitcase. “Oh, and sunblock. For God’s sake. This is like mom-of-the-year status.”
