Chapter 21
Twenty-One
C ooper
“What about Christmas?” Amelia beams at the happy couple. “New York City is so beautiful during the holidays.”
All of five minutes after they get engaged, and our mothers are already planning the wedding. That’s just great. A long engagement would’ve been nice, but I guess we’re ripping the Band-Aid off now.
“ This Christmas?” Sybil releases an uncomfortable laugh. “That’s a little fast, isn’t it?”
“When you know, you know,” her father booms. “In our day, people didn’t need years to plan a wedding.”
“This isn’t your day; it’s ours,” Ethan says, squeezing his fiancée’s hand, and I thank God Ethan is a logical man.
My brother and I are about to be at Harvard, and graduate school will take two years. That’s the perfect length of time for their engagement. Sybil will have time to plan exactly what she wants.
“We’re getting married after I finish grad school,” Ethan confirms. “Sybil wants to have the wedding on Nantucket the summer after graduation.”
Sybil as a bride comes to mind, her auburn hair down in loose waves white a white veil covering her face. My brother, removing that veil to kiss her. Our favorite place in the world becomes the backdrop to their new life together.
It’s perfect, but it fucking hurts.
“At the new house?” Her mother frowns. “That could be a ways out.”
Sybil shakes her head. “No, of course we want it at the King’s place. That’s how I’ve always imagined it.”
The nostalgia alone will have everyone in tears.
“I’m thinking on the lawn at the edge of the bluff overlooking the ocean,” she continues. “We’ll get married at sunset and have a nighttime reception outside with big white tents and flowers everywhere.”
“Hydrangeas, of course,” Ethan says. “Your favorite.”
She looks at him, her smile faltering. She loves hydrangeas as they remind her of her favorite place, but they’re not her favorite flower.
“Yes, hydrangeas,” she says. “And other flowers?—”
“Magnolias,” I can’t stop myself from adding.
Everyone turns toward me, but I stare at Sybil, waiting for her to respond.
Her cheeks flush. “Uh, yes, magnolias.” Then she clears her throat. “With graduate school, we want to wait for the wedding so we can plan every last detail.”
She leans over to press a small kiss to Ethan’s cheek, and her eyes flit to me again. It’s only the second time she’s looked my way since he slid that ring on her finger. I have a feeling she’ll be looking at me less and less.
“Maybe we could do the wedding early next summer?” Amelia presses. “Why wait two years?”
“I don’t want to be long distance with my husband. It’s like you guys forget Ethan and I won’t be in the same city.”
The room falls silent, and I get the sense that we’re missing something big here.
I gaze around, looking for clues. The boys and I are on the couch, the parents spread throughout the armchairs, the newly engaged couple on the loveseat.
We’re supposed to be celebrating, not bickering over wedding dates.
Why are the parents rushing this?
“Long distance is nothing when you’re in love,” her father says. “And we have the resources to make sure you can get every weekend together. A Christmas wedding sounds delightful.”
I gape at the man, honestly stunned he wants them to get married so quickly. Sybil looks my way again, and I swear this is a woman who wants to be rescued.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I deadpan.
“What’s wrong with Christmas?” Gregory shoots me an annoyed glance. He obviously thinks I should butt out. “There are so many venues we can choose from right here, and even if they’re booked, we can pick a weekday.”
I can’t help it—I fucking laugh. Meanwhile, Sybil looks horrified, Ethan’s jaw is set in an angry line, her little brothers are wide-eyed, and the parents are all chummy with the idea. It’s fucking ridiculous.
“Why are you pushing for a shotgun wedding?” I demand.
No answer.
Why the hell isn’t my brother speaking up?
“Cooper,” my mother says, exasperated. “Please, let us handle this.”
“This wedding isn’t about you,” my father adds.
I laugh again. “This wedding isn’t about you, either. Don’t push them to get married before they’re ready. Two years isn’t too long to be engaged, and this isn’t a shotgun wedding. There’s no need to rush, so leave them alone.”
Mom looks at the rug as if it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. The three other parents exchange frustrated glances, and a sudden shock of fear jolts down my spine.
“There’s something you’re not telling us,” I accuse. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Mom says, her voice cracking as she waves her hand dismissively.
“Mom?” Ethan questions. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
It’s about time he spoke up.
“Maybe we should tell them.” Dad’s eyes are pained as he takes Mom’s hand. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear this kind of broken expression before. It’s as if his walls have shattered.
“Not today. Not now,” Mom says.
Fuck this. If she doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, it’s too late for that.
Next to me, Chandler groans. “Please tell us, Tori.” He uses her nickname, which normally makes her heart melt, but she stiffens.
I grab Chandler’s fisted hand and hold on tight. “You might as well spit it out, Mom. We’re not leaving here with questions.”
Her eyes bounce from person to person. She looks like a cornered animal. Her expression crumbles, and my heart crumbles with it. Fear claws up my throat, my mouth tasting of pennies.
“I’m so sorry, kids. I don’t know how to tell you this…” She wipes a tear with shaky fingers. She shakes her head, like she can’t say it, and looks to Dad for help.
He shifts in his seat, reaching across the armchair to take her hand, eyes turning to me and Ethan. “Your mother has stage four pancreatic cancer.”
What?
No.
No. No. No. No.
My stomach churns violently as cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. The world turns as the denial echoes through my head.
This can’t be happening.
Chandler is the first to speak. “What does that mean?”
It means the cancer is advanced, spreading, and in at least one vital organ. It means it’s deadly. It means she probably won’t survive this, and probably has limited time left. But I don’t say those words, because I can’t… not with this invisible thousand-pound rock on my chest.
I release Chandler’s hand and sink into myself. “You’ll fight it,” I demand. “You’ll beat it.”
Mom shakes her head, and Dad cuts in. “We’re looking into clinical trials. Anything we can do, we’re going to do. We’ll spare no expense.”
“It’s too advanced.” Mom lets out a bitter laugh. “Money can’t save me.”
What the fuck?
She’s already giving up?
Her eyes lock on mine. “I’m angry about this, too, but I can’t change it.”
She’s right; it’s not like this is her fault, and I can’t be mad at her. It’s the cancer I hate. How could this happen to her? Her lifestyle is so healthy. She doesn’t even eat sugar, and she attends Pilates classes religiously.
“We’ll have the wedding at Christmas,” Ethan blurts. “Sooner, if you want. Thanksgiving, even. Or fall break.” He turns on Sybil, panicked. “Fall break is in October, and we get an entire week off. We can make that work, can’t we?”
Two months to put together a wedding is utterly ridiculous, and I expect her to say as much, but she forces a smile. “Of course. I’ve love autumn weddings. We’ll do it here in the city.”
The world is spinning. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. There was supposed to be time. Time for the wedding.
Time for Mom.
Ethan hugs Syb, and everyone smiles through their tears, as if the rushed wedding is going to make this okay, as if this is a streak of sunlight on a dark night.
It’s not. Mom will be gone soon. I understand why Ethan and Sybil want her at the wedding, but it’s not going to save her, and saving her is what we should be focusing on.
“You said something about clinical trials?” I turn to Dad. “Can we please talk about that?”
Mom frowns, but Dad nods. How I wish she were nodding along with him.
“Mom, please.”
She sighs. “I’ll do one if I can get in one, but can we please talk about the wedding? I want to focus on some happy news today.”
“Of course we can,” Ethan chimes in, shooting me a glowering look, as if I’m somehow making this day worse for Mom.
Sorry, but I’m not putting my head in the sand and ignoring the shit littered around me.
Sybil’s verdant gaze catches mine, and we stare at each other for a heartbeat. Can she see the heartbreak in my eyes? Does she know it’s for more than just my mother? That I think about her all the time? That her kiss has stayed with me all summer? Has haunted my dreams?
She tears her gaze from mine, and I’m not even surprised.
She’s always the first to look away. That’s okay—we’re friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be.
As much as the engagement hurts my heart, Mom’s diagnosis hurts my soul.
She’s who I need to be concerned with right now.
I get up and go to my mother, wrapping her tight in my arms and silently begging for her life to be spared.