She knows what that means. “How did he handle it?”
“As well as could be expected. It hit like it always does, pretty suddenly. But he stayed with me and wasn’t, like, weird about it. We were at a hotel, so there wasn’t much for him to eat or to do, though, so hopefully we’ll get to his place in LA before I feel like that again.”
“Are you…” A pause, as she considers how to say what she’s thinking, and I can almost hear what she’s going to ask before it comes out. “How is everything with him? You’re in the car with him, I assume.”
“It’s amazing, Mom, and yes, I am.”
“Am I on speaker?”
“No.”
“Is he…he’s not…” She drops her voice. “He’s not pressuring you to do anything you’re not ready for, is he?”
“Mom, no. He’s not. It—he—this—us, this whole thing…it’s better in every way than I could even have dreamed of.”
She’s silent a moment. “Are you…are you being safe? We didn’t talk about that, specifically, and we should have.”
“God, Mom.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, first, and second, don’tgod, Momme about this. It’s important.”
I huff, glance at Wes, who’s doing his dead-level best to pretend he’s not hearing everything I’m saying. My instinct is to whisper, because part of me is embarrassed. But I don’t.
“Mom…” I sigh. “Okay, fine. Here’s the truth. We haven’t quite gotten to…that, yet, if you must know. But when we get to that point, we’ll have that conversation. Okay?”
“It’s not really a conversation, Jolene. You use protection. It’s very, very simple.”
I groan. “Actually, Mom, it’s not. Not for me. You realize I’ve spent the better part of eleven years undergoing chemotherapy and radiation.”
“Yes, Jolene, I know. I was there for all of it.”
“Well, you do realize that that means my reproductive system is fried, right? Like, I’m totally sterile.” I wince, because that feels harsh and unpleasant to say out loud, in front of Wes, like this. “Dr. Miller and I talked about this, the appointment before last. So, for me, Mom, it’s really not that simple.”
“There are still diseases, and no matter what doctors say, there’s always a chance, even a remote one, of—”
I cut her off. “Mom, you just have to trust me, okay? I will be safe in everything I do. I promise.”
“Okay, okay. You’re right.” A silence. “Well, I love you, and I miss you. Call me when you stop, or when you get to LA, or something. And maybe call Grandma, too. We filled her in on what’s going on, but I know she’d like to hear from you.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about her while I was resting. Is she…I imagine she doesn’t approve of what I’m doing.”
A laugh. “You know your grandmother.”
“Meaning, she doesn’t but she’d never say as much.”
“Right.”
“Well,” I say, “I’ll call her. I love you, Mom. And…don’t worry, okay? I’m exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to be doing with exactly the person I want to be doing it with. Not to say I don’t miss you and Dad, but…”
She laughs. “I was nineteen and in love once, so I understand. Just don’t forget to call us once in a while. You know we’ll worry.”
“And you know you don’t have to.” I have to say it. “If anything changes, I’ll call you right away. Or I’ll have Wes call, if I can’t. Okay? I promise.”
“All right. Well, I love you. I’ll let you go.”
“I’ll call again soon, I promise.”
“Tell Westley I said hi.”
