Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
January 2025
Nantucket Island
J osie couldn’t wait a couple of weeks to decide whether they were going to Seattle or not. Not with her current life expectancy. Just a few minutes before Tara returned from her date, Josie had her phone to her ear, and she was calling her mother’s number for the first time in decades. What would she say? It’s time to make amends, Mom. We’ve taken this too far! A shiver went down her spine. The phone rang and rang and rang. Nobody answered. Feeling frantic, Josie decided to try again. On the fourth ring, a very tired and sorrowful older woman answered.
“Hello?” It was Cindy’s voice, but the personality behind it was all wrong. “Hello, who is this?”
Josie’s heart thudded with panic. What could she say? How could she bridge this divide? She licked her lips and sought something, anything to say. It’s your daughter. The one you don’t like. I need you to talk to Tara again. I need you to love her again. She doesn’t have any other family. She needs you.
But Cindy was already upset at the silence on the other end. “You should be ashamed of yourself for playing a prank like this. I’m old; I’m too old for this. Don’t you know what I’ve been through? Don’t you know where I am?”
She hung up before Josie could respond.
Josie’s heart shattered. The woman on the other end sounded perpetually on the brink of tears. Don’t you know what I’ve been through? But what did that mean? What had she been through? Where was she?
Cindy was a stranger.
Cindy was a stranger, but it was very clear she needed their help.
Josie was suddenly in front of her laptop with her credit card. Before she knew what she’d done, she’d booked two tickets from Boston to Seattle. The flights were two days from now.
She wasn’t sure how to tell Tara about it. She didn’t want to confess that she’d called their mother because she knew Tara wasn’t sure she wanted to see their parents at all. Maybe Tara would see it as a breach of their agreement, a crossing of boundaries.
But what was done was done.
Tara floated into the house a few minutes later. She found Josie with her laptop still open.
“You’re still up!” Tara sounded dreamy.
“I am. How was it?”
Tara raised her arms over her head and swept her fingers through her hair. She then collapsed on the sofa beside Josie and pulled a blanket around her.
“I never know what will happen next,” Tara said. “But gosh, I like his eyes.”
Josie recognized how kind, soft, and easy Tara was. It was the best possible time to tell a white lie.
“I want to hear everything,” Josie said.
“I’ll tell you. Eventually.” Tara closed her eyes. “But right now, I have to process it.”
“I get it,” Josie said. She hesitated, then said, “By the way, I booked our flights to Seattle.”
Tara raised her eyebrows. “Wow! You did?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first,” Josie said. She searched for a lie and added,“I had a special deal on my credit card, but I could only use it till the end of the week. And, you know. Time is of the essence right now. For me, anyway.”
“Of course,” Tara said thoughtfully. “When do we go?”
“Two days from now.”
Tara let out a funny laugh. “Okay. Wow.” She pulled her hair into a bun that she immediately let fall. “You think it’s okay that we aren’t going to call them first? I mean, maybe I’ll get there and chicken out.”
Josie panged with guilt for not explaining more. But she was terrified Tara would back out when she learned how “messy” their mother sounded.
“Let’s just go over there and see how you feel,” Josie said.
“Maybe you’ll want to back out, too,” Tara suggested.
“I doubt it. I really do.”
We need to mend the past , Tara , she did not say. This is the only way I know how.
It was hard to believe they were on their way to Seattle. Upon her bedspread, Josie put her suitcase and piled it with sweaters and pants and skirts and shoes, half of everything she’d brought from Manhattan to Nantucket in the first place, and tried her darnedest to imagine what it would be like to see their parents again. Although she was sure she could pull up a social media profile for one of them, at least for their mother, she hadn’t dared, frightened as she was, about how she would feel about how much older they’d gotten.
She’d already heard how much older her mother sounded on the phone. It terrified her.
Time had had its way with all of them.
Josie wondered what it would be like for them when she told them she was dying.
No parent ever thought they’d outlive their child.
She guessed it was best to fly out to Seattle and see what happened.
More than anything, she was surprised Tara had agreed to go. Probably later, when Tara found out Josie wasn’t even considering the new cancer treatment, she’d put up a fight. Maybe she’d say, I went to Seattle. You owe me .
Maybe that would be their final fight—the fact that Josie wasn’t holding up her end of the bargain.
But Josie was resolute. She wouldn’t enter another hospital. She wouldn’t fight for a life that, it seemed, no longer belonged to her. She’d given herself over to cancer last year and the year before that. She’d given cancer enough of her time.
A brilliant thing about putting distance between her body and chemo and radiation was that she felt brighter, kinder, fuller, and more present. The medication her doctors prescribed back in Manhattan had a hand in that, too—so much so that some afternoons, she didn’t even need to take a nap. This was beneficial. She wanted to be fully awake and alive in Seattle. She wanted to be fully conscious and reactive during their first conversation with their parents in twenty-plus years.
But she was really nervous after that phone call. What was wrong with their mother? They’d find out soon.
Tara interrupted Josie’s reverie and knocked on the bedroom door. “Do you want me to throw anything into the laundry real quick?” she called.
Josie cleared the distance and opened the door to find Tara in a soft white robe, her face without makeup, her eyes glinting with something like optimism. It was all because of that date with Johan, Josie was pretty sure. But she still hadn’t pressed Tara for details. They had a big trip in front of them. Maybe they could hash out what had happened on the date then.
“I think I have everything, thanks,” Josie said. “Flight’s at eleven.”
“I guess we should leave the house by seven o’clock,” Tara said.
“Perfect.”
Tara turned on a heel and disappeared into the kitchen.
Suddenly, a thought crept through Josie’s mind. What if I die on the trip?
Josie was suddenly sour with fear. She closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, studying her hands. She most certainly did not want to die while they were traveling. This would only make a bigger mess for Tara. Josie had a plan and would share it with Tara when the time was right. She wanted to die here—in the beautiful seaside home they’d picked out for themselves and Winnie back in the early 2000s, when they’d had their whole lives in front of them. She wanted to die by the ocean, surrounded by memories.
It would be easy for Tara, Josie hoped.
Josie would slip away, listening to the sounds of the island rather than a Manhattan filled with blaring car horns. And Tara could call someone to come pick Josie up.
Planning a funeral will be easy for an event planner , Josie thought. But I hope she knows she doesn’t have to. I’ll write it in a note before I go: “Tara, do not plan my funeral! Rest!”
The following morning, I found Josie in the passenger side of the car a full ten minutes before Tara. Josie felt like a golden retriever anxiously awaiting his walk. Tara’s hair was still wet, and she had a little bit of lipstick smudged on her cheek. But she looked happy and a little frantic, which suited Josie’s mood, too.
“Let’s go!”
On the ferry to Hyannis, they grabbed some tea at the little coffee shop and watched the water. A little girl in a winter coat that went past her knees ran around and sang songs, annoying several ferry riders who wanted to sit with their coffees in peace. But Josie and Tara were pleased with the girl’s performance. Josie knew that Tara was thinking about Winnie because Josie was thinking about Winnie, too. She batted her eyelashes to keep from crying. Would they ever talk about what had happened?
When they got back in the car, a popular song from 2005 or 2006 played on the radio. Immediately, Tara burst into tears.
Josie touched her back, knowing and remembering what this song meant. It had been Winnie’s song of the summer. She’d danced all over the kitchen to it, making up her own lyrics and jumping on the sofa and pretending everything from her banana to her hairbrush to her Barbie dolls was a microphone.
The song, plus the little girl on the ferry, had sent Tara over.
Tara’s shoulders quaked. She whispered, “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can do this, Tara. You can. And it’s going to be so worth it.” But even as she said it, Josie wasn’t sure she believed herself.
Tara started the engine and drove them off the ferry and onto the highway. They didn’t speak for over a half hour, and neither of them braved the radio, as they were too frightened another song would sneak out and bring a torrent of painful memories.
At the Boston airport, Tara parked in the long-term lot and pulled both Tara’s and Josie’s suitcases behind her. Josie had a small backpack on her shoulders, and it was already making her back ache. Soon enough, they were able to get rid of their suitcases, go through security, and sit at another little coffee shop by the boarding gate.
“Should we bring a present for Mom and Dad? If we see them at all?” Tara asked, trying to make light of the situation. “Something to remind them of their East Coast past?”
“Maybe we could buy a lobster at the restaurant and put it in my backpack,” Josie joked.
Tara cackled and imitated holding a lobster by the tail. “Here you go, Mom and Dad! A peace offering!”
Josie wrinkled her nose, imagining their mother’s petrified face.
“It’s weird that we’re going out there without telling them, I guess,” Tara said. “We’re setting ourselves up for heartache.” She took a drink of her coffee and raised her chin as an enormous plane lifted into the sky. “I keep imagining us sitting in front of their house in the rental car, watching them like spies. Maybe we should get binoculars.”
Josie snorted. Just now, sitting here as the takeoff time got closer and closer, Josie was fully able to acknowledge the ridiculousness of their situation. She’d called their mother and panicked when something seemed to be wrong. But she still hadn’t shared this news with Tara.
There were forty minutes left till boarding.
Josie braced herself. “I tried to call Mom. I mean, I did call Mom.”
Tara’s face turned pale. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s why I bought the tickets in the first place,” Josie stammered. “She sounded off, Tara. Like she sounded like something was really wrong. I panicked. I felt like we needed to go immediately.”
Tara was on her feet. She was looking at Josie as though she didn’t recognize her. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I’m sorry. I really am. I just was worried you wouldn’t want to come.”
“Did you ask her what was wrong?”
“She hung up before I could figure out how,” Josie said.
Tara sank back into the chair and put her face in her hands. An announcement blared from the speakers. “Mike Randall, please report to the lost and found near Gate A4.”
The name Mike reminded Josie of her date with Mike, the one that had ended with Donnie sleeping off his drunkenness at a motel. Sometimes Josie wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t caught Donnie cheating on Tara. Would Donnie still be living at the house by the sea?
“I don’t know if we should go,” Tara muttered to the table. “I don’t know if I can go.”
“Nothing has changed,” Josie said. “We still have a flight to Seattle. We still don’t have to see them when we get there.”
“Everything has changed. Now, I know something is wrong with Mom. And I can’t ignore that.” Tara smashed her fist on the table and muttered, “I thought it would be easy. A kind of game. We could go out there and decide one way or the other if we really wanted to see them. But now, it’s real. It’s too real.”
“She sounded sick or something, Tara.” Josie wet her lips. “Need I remind you, I’m sick, too. I want this. I want to see her. It’s the last thing I want.”
Tara blew air through her nose and closed her eyes. “Now that things are coming out into the open, I want you to say you’ll do the experimental treatment. I want you to consider what it means to me. Right now, you’re all I have left of the past.”
That’s why I want you to see our parents again , Josie wanted to say.
But instead, Josie grabbed her phone and dialed her mother’s number again. She was resolute this time. She would say something. She would inform their mother that her only two daughters were coming west; it was time to make an effort and see them.
Tara looked so terrified that tears filled her eyes, and her arms shook.
The first two tries, nobody answered the phone.
“Whatever’s wrong with her, she doesn’t want to talk to us,” Tara insisted. “We should go back to the parking lot, drive back to Nantucket, and go immediately to the hospital. We should…”
But Josie had already begun to make another call. This time, a woman answered. But it wasn’t Cindy’s voice.
“Hello?”
Josie’s soul nearly leaped from her body. “Hi! Um. Hi. I’m trying to get ahold of Cindy Steiner. Is she there?”
“She’s here, but she really isn’t available right now,” the woman said tenderly. “Will you be here later? I think it’s best to talk to her in person.”
Josie’s eyes widened. It felt as though this woman knew who she was and why she was calling. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry. What’s happening later?” Josie asked.
The woman sounded surprised. “Didn’t you hear? Bob died. The wake is here at the house from five to eight.”
Josie’s heart slammed to a stop.
Across the table, Tara gaped at her. She could sense something was very wrong.
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that.” That was all Josie could think to say. It sounded like an alarm was going off in the airport, but really, it was just her ears ringing like crazy.
Their father was dead.
“I hope you’ll come to the wake. I’m sure Cindy would love to see you,” the woman said. “It’s at 4377 Marigold Drive. Five to eight. Gotta go.” She hung up the phone before Josie could respond.
Gently, Josie set the phone on the table, clutched her thighs, and looked at Tara.
“What is it?” Tara demanded. “What’s going on?”
Josie tried to form the words, but all she could think of was her strong, handsome, domineering, angry, cold-hearted father—Bob—who’d always made her feel less than, who’d hardly ever told her he loved her, who’d made it his mission in life to let Josie know he didn’t really like her that much, at least when compared to Tara, his favorite. A part of Josie had been grateful that Bob and Tara would be able to mend their relationship. Bob couldn’t have just lost his love for his youngest daughter. It was still in that heart of his. Or it had been before he’d died.
It was horrible timing.
“Josie?” Tara demanded. She looked panicked.
“It’s our dad,” Josie said in a small voice. “He’s gone.”