Ten
Lily
Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Come in,” I say, stepping aside. Mom pulls me into a tight embrace.
“Are you feeling okay?” Her hand drifts to my forehead, as if checking for a fever.
I manage a small chuckle. “I don’t have a fever, Mom.”
After I close the door, Dad steps forward and gives me a warm, solid hug. “Where are the kids?” he asks.
“Ollie’s napping. Maddy is spending the day with her friends, and Jake is working,” I reply, leading them into the living room. They sink onto the couch, their posture stiff, looking expectantly at me.
“Lily, what’s going on?” Mom begins. “You never call us during the week to come over like this.”
I sit on the edge of the coffee table directly across from them, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. I take a deep, shaky breath and repeat in my head, I can do this. I can do this. I have to do this. For my children. For Sam.
“Mom, Dad. I… I have stage three breast cancer.”
There it is. The truth, raw and brutal, hangs in the air between us.
It feels like a load has been taken off my shoulders, but the sorrow that follows is a crushing tide.
I see the tears in their eyes glimmering, then spilling.
Mom lets out a choked gasp and leans into Dad, burying her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Dad’s arm goes around her instantly, his own face contorting with grief, his jaw tight. He stares at me, unable to speak.
After a few moments, Mom lifts her head, her face blotchy and wet. “Have you… have you started treatment?”
“Yes,” I manage to say.
Mom wipes the tears with the back of her hand, her gaze still fixed on me. Dad clears his throat, his voice rough. “Are you going alone?”
I shake my head slowly. “No. Sam has been taking me.”
“Sam?” Mom asks, a flicker of surprise, then understanding, in her eyes. “Of course, she knows.”
I give a nod. Mom and Dad understand that Sam and I have shared an unbreakable sisterly bond since we were children.
“Honey,” Mom says, her voice gaining back its strength.
She reaches across the space between us, her hand finding mine, squeezing it.
“I know how much your sister loves you and wants to be there for you, but… please, let us take care of that. Your father and I are retired. We have the time. We can look after the kids and things around the house. Let Sam focus on her studies.”
“And we’ll take you to your appointments, Lilypad,” Dad adds. The nickname, a comfort from my childhood, breaks something inside me.
My jaw aches from clenching it as I fight back tears.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom coos. She comes and holds me tight against her chest. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re not alone. We’re not going anywhere.”
I wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder, and I let go.
She cries along with me, her own tears soaking my hair, and she strokes my back, murmuring reassurances. “We will fight this together.”
I exhale a shuddering sigh of relief, the kind that empties your lungs and your soul, knowing that I did the right thing. Now it’s time to tell my children and Ethan.
“You need to call Dad now,” Jake demands.
“Jake. Please keep your voice down so you don’t wake up Ollie,” I respond.
“Mom.”
“No, Jake. I will not call your father tonight.”
“Why?” He practically spits the word, his frustration boiling over.
“Because it’s late, Jake.”
“I think that’s crap, Mom, and you know it!” he snaps, trying to walk past me, but I grab his arm.
“Hey, don’t do that,” I say softly. “Don’t walk away from me.”
“I’m mad, Mom! I’m so damn angry, okay!” he screams, wrenching his arm free, his eyes blazing with unshed tears and pure rage.
“It’s not fair that this is happening to you! And now you’re dying! You’re dying!” His voice cracks on the last word. His knees buckle, and he collapses into my arms, his body shaking uncontrollably.
“Don’t die. Please, Mom, don’t die.” His sobs tear through me. Tears stream down my own face as I hold him tight, rocking him.
“Shh, baby. I’m not dying. I told you, I’m going to fight this.”
“I don’t want to see you get sick anymore, Mom,” he whispers brokenly.
“It’s part of the treatment, sweetheart. I have to get sicker to get better.” I pull back and cradle his face in my hands. “I am not leaving you or your sister or Ollie. You got it?”
He hesitates, searching my eyes as if he’s looking for a promise he desperately needs. I pull him back into my embrace, holding him tighter than before, burying my face in his hair. “I love you, Jake. I love you so much,” I murmur over and over.
I pause, my hand hovering, then give a soft, hesitant knock. “Maddy?” I whisper. “Can I come in?”
Silence.
I wait, counting the slow seconds before I whisper, “I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk. I love you.”
Still nothing.
With a heavy sigh, I turn and walk to my own room.
I go through the familiar motions of getting ready for the night.
I pull back the covers, looking forward to sleeping this day away, when Maddy appears.
She’s standing in the doorway, a small, fragile silhouette against the dim hallway light, her face a canvas of worry.
“Hey, sweet pea.”
She shuffles inside the room. “Can I sleep with you, Mom?”
“Of course. Come here,” I reply, pushing the covers back.
She hurriedly climbs into bed next to me, and I turn off the light, plunging the room into darkness. Facing her, I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and ask, “Are you doing okay, sweet pea?”
“Mom, are you dying?” she asks instead of answering my question.
I close my eyes for a fleeting second, gathering my strength, remembering my promise always to be honest. “Not today, sweetheart.”
A choked sob escapes her. “I don’t want a new mother,” she whispers.
My arms tighten around her, pulling her closer. “You’re not getting a new mommy, ever. I will always be your mommy, Maddy. Always.”
“Even when you’re gone?” Her voice comes out small.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, nodding twice. “Even when I’m gone.”
We lie together, and our breathing is the only sound; it is oddly comforting until a voice shatters the quiet.
“Can I join the party?” Jake asks, standing in the doorway, a mischievous grin breaking through his earlier sadness.
A soft, watery laugh escapes me. “Of course.”
Without warning, he launches himself at full speed, landing on the bed with a booming thud, the impact sending Maddy and me bouncing. Startled, almost hysterical screams tear from our throats.
“Jake!”
We burst into helpless, gasping laughter as Jake wriggles until he lies opposite me, his arms finding their way around my waist. “Love you always, Mom.”
This. This is what I am fighting for.