Bonus Scene
SUTTON
The cabin tucked away in the woods has always been a favorite place for all of us, probably because it never changed.
Even with the family growing, there’s frills, no fuss, and even with all of us staying here with our children, it means pallets on the floor, couples doing similar, and while it can make for some crude jokes along with aching backs. It’s fun all the same.
The creek rushes behind it, higher than last summer due to the rain we’ve gotten, and the kids put it to good use on this hot summer day. They’re now in bed, tuckered from a day full of activities and full bellies that we all pitched in to cook, then clean.
It should feel peaceful, right about, except it feels like something terrible is waiting for us.
I noticed it before dinner: Momma Catherine didn’t look like herself, not because she looked sick, but more along the lines that she was trying not to look sick.
She smiled through it all: Laughed at the kids, argued with Russell over seasoning like she always did, kissed scraped knees, and passed out cookies while threatening all the men in our lives who tried to steal them.
Normal.
Then there were moments not one else caught, tiny fractures in her otherwise vivacious personality.
The way her smile disappeared when no one was looking.
The way she occasionally pressed a palm to her chest absentmindedly.
The way Russell’s watchful eyes stayed on her constantly.
Now, hours later, everyone is crowded around a campfire.
Lane sits sprawled in his chair with Birdie curled against him.
Dean is sitting on the ground, Tully leaning back against him, one arm wrapped around her middle like he needs the connection.
Juniper sits next to Lawson while he absentmindedly plays with her braid.
JW and Maeve are sharing a double camp chair, her head resting against his shoulder while his arm is around her shoulder.
Trey sits closest to the fire on a blanket; Sienna is tucked against his side as she yawns sleepily.
And beside me is my rock, my person, the man who saved me at my lowest low.
Ryland is quiet, too quiet; his hand slides up and down my arm, his attention on his parents.
Which means my husband noticed too, not surprisingly.
Suddenly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the ground beneath our family was about to shake.
“We need to tell y’all something.” Russell clears his throat and everyone looks his way. Catherine’s fingers tighten on the blanket she has draped across her lap. Russell reaches for his hand, holding it in his.
“Dad?” Lane says with fear laced in his words. Fear slams into my chest like a brick wall. Trey goes still, his grasp on me becomes more like a lifeline.
“Your momma’s sick.” Russell looks at Catherine first, the look on his face nearly destroying me before he finishes his statement. Birdie’s hand flies to her mouth, swallowing back a noise.
“Oh my God,” Dean whispers. Catherine lowers her eyes.
“It’s breast cancer.” Russell’s voice cracks apart when he says the last part.
“No.” Juniper’s voice comes out broken, shaking her head.
Lawson tightens both his hands around her shoulders.
Trey sits forward; Sienna grabs his hand with both of hers.
Maeve looks stricken, tears already filling her eyes while JW stares at his mother like he physically can’t process what he’d heard.
“What do you mean cancer?” Lane stands abruptly; Catherine looks up at him. A look I could never forget for the rest of my life. She looks terrified, not weak, not fragile. Terrified.
“I was diagnosed a couple of weeks ago,” Catherine whispers. Birdie’s tears streak down her cheeks.
“What stage?” Lawson asks equally as quietly. All of us freeze, waiting for the answer.
“Stage three.” She inhales shakily. A gamut of emotions runs through every person.
Juniper cries; Lawson pulls her into his chest, watching as he breathes through his own.
Trey swears under his breath before dropping his head into his hands.
Sienna’s tears come silently as she presses herself closer to him.
Maeve burrows against JW’s shoulder while he stares blankly ahead.
Lane turns away; Birdie wraps herself around his back.
Then there’s Tully. She looks furious, not at anyone in particular but at the world.
Dean reaches for her and she’s instantly hugging him.
“Next week she’ll go in for surgery. After that, she’ll start chemo.” Russell never lets go of Catherine’s hand. Not once.
“I’m scared. I’ve got so much life left to live, and this seems like an impossible hurdle,” Catherine admits, her voice cracking while doing so.
“Baby,” Russell’s face collapses. He pulls his wife into him, holding her so tightly and with desperation.
“I don’t want my babies, you girls included, or my grandbabies watching me become sicker by the day.
” Those words shatter my husband. I feel it happen, the exact moment.
My strong, steady man next to me stopped holding himself together.
Ryland sucks in a harsh breath before leaning forward, elbows on his knees, both hands gripping his hair.
My hand rubs his back in what I can only hope is soothing circles.
“Mom,” one word and it wrecks everyone.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Catherine cries harder. Russell is doing the same right beside her, though the clenching in his jaw tells me he’s trying to be strong for his wife.
“There is no version of you that our family would ever not want to be part of.” He tells her with a fierceness, “Do you hear me, Catherine Johnson? Absolutely none.” She clings to him and suddenly everyone converges at once.
One right after the other, the boys with their mother before their wives did similar.
Ry and I hang back; I’m waiting for my husband’s lead.
And through all of it, the creek keeps running. Steady and unchanging. Like the world didn’t care that our family just got hit by a freight train.
Ryland finally stands, helping me up with him.
His eyes are red, devastation written all over him.
He grips my hand tightly and we make our way toward his parents.
When Catherine looks up at us, the hole in my chest cracks wide open.
She opens her arms for my husband, her hand dislodging from Russell’s, grabbing for mine.
And I let them be; my husband needs his mom, and his mom needs her son.
When Ry lets his mom go, he wraps his arms around me tightly. Almost painfully, like he needed to feel something solid. And that’s me, here for him like he’s always been there for me.
“Christ, Sutton. I love you.” His forehead meets mine; he says with a rawness.
“I love you, Ryland. We’ll get through this. We’ll all get through this. Your mom’s a fighter, and she’s got a whole army behind her to help her get through it.”
“Fucking Christ, babe, you’re the best.” The rawness in his tone has me pressing closer, my lips gliding over his, giving him what he needs, and that through everything life seems to throw our way. I’m with him, always.