Her eyes slit at the suspicion in my tone. “Before you get on your high city horse, it’s being done by a well-respected oncologist and has Dr. Silver’s full approval. Even better, all it requires is a few pills a day.”
“Except for the mild concern that you could be on the placebo and not the actual drug.”
“Your sarcasm is noted.” Ma shrugs. “The mind is a great healer, too, and so long as I believe I’m taking a cure, it’s been better for me.”
“Ma, that’s not realistic.”
“Does it look like I appreciate reality at the moment?” Her arched brow mimics mine. “You didn’t see me on chemo?—”
“Because you didn’t allow me to.”
Ma levels me with a weighted look, the type with the full knowledge of what she did and has no regrets. “The trial is for a few months. Then if it doesn’t work, I go back on chemo.”
“And during those months, the cancer will have time to grow.”
Ma’s lashes lower as she sighs. “Honeybear, it’sbeengrowing. It’s in my lower spine, my hips, and parts of my skull.”
With each body part she lists, I inwardly recoil. But herskull… “Jesus. Ma.”
She opens her arms. “C’mere, baby.”
I refuse to break down. I’m too big and too grown of a man to curl up on a mamma’s lap, but I sure can sit next to her and bury her in my arms.
I do just that, cradling her head under my chin and marveling at our switch in roles. She used to do this for me during mynightmares as a child.I can barely remember that time, yet at this moment it’s as vivid as the feel of her bones under her skin.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” I ask over the top of her head.
She squeezes my waist. “I was. I promise you. I didn’t know when, or how, but maybe you coming home right this moment is a gift. I’m glad you’re here. I want you to know that.”
I close my eyes. “I am, too.”
Even if my return is for the wrong reasons.
She wraps her arms around my torso, pulling me in as tight as she can. “And now that my surprising news is out of the way, let’s talk about you and your penchant for whipping around people and furniture in public like you’ve regressed into toddler form.”
I play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You think your own mamma isn’t aware of what’s going on with you?”
To clear the guilty phlegm out of my throat, I answer, “I thought you didn’t read the tabloids.”
“I don’t, but my cribbage group sure does. Maisy Hitchins being at the forefront.”
“That fucking family,” I grunt.
Ma smacks my arm. “I’ll allow you a few f-words because you’re upset, but you watch your language.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Besides, she’s just the messenger. You’re the problem and returning to town with your tail between your legs, no less. You must’ve really done it this time, huh?”
I pull away to grant space between us, though the last thing I want is to be scolded by my mother. She may be reduced in size, but her glare sure isn’t. “I may have crossed the line slightly.”
Ma clucks with disapproval. “Then we have some work to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. This is my mess. You rest.”
“Oh, please.” Ma waves me off. “I’d love to be a part of your redemption tour. You can start by getting in some work around here.”
