Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
“We went to the doctor today. She . . .” And I can’t say it. I can’t say the words.
I watch his face fall, every muscle dropping in slow motion.
Everything feels like I’m watching it from another vantage point, an out-of-body experience. I see his pupils dilate. I can see the fabric of his shirt bounce with his increased heartbeat. I see the stubble dotting his face move as he clenches his jaw.
He’s trying to stay calm. His hands are squeezing my knees and I think it’s starting to hurt, but I’m not sure.
“Julia, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s going on.”
The sob that I’ve needed to release, but now needs to stay away so I can speak, creeps up my throat like a thief. I open my mouth and it robs me of words. I take in a shaky breath and feel the tears start to trickle down my cheeks. They scald my skin, leaving trails of hot liquid down my face.
“She . . .” I look from his hands on my legs to his face. “She has cancer.”
Crew shudders. His jaw drops, and his skin pales. His eyes go wide and he shakes his head. The look on his face is pure disbelief. “She what?”
I only nod, unable to say the words again. I won’t. I watch him absorb them, and wrestle with the idea I’ve just tossed onto him in much the same way it was forced onto me earlier. Like a serpent tossed into a room with you. “Here you go. Deal with this. Good luck. We’ll be right outside if you need us.”
“My God, Jules.” He rocks back on his heels and takes off his hat. He smooths his hands down his face, his mouth falling open as his fingers drag across it. “I . . .”
“We just got home from the hospital a little while ago.”
“Is she going to be all right?”
“She has to be,” I say, my voice shaking.
“My God.” He bows his head before standing. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know. The final lab results aren’t in yet, so they haven’t put together a treatment plan. They won’t do that until they know exactly what they’re working with.”
“What will they do? Chemo? Fuck, Jules. Can they do that on a little kid? She’s a baby.”
I choke back a sob. He’s right. She is a baby. She’s just a little baby girl that doesn’t deserve this. I want to scream, to tell the universe to mess with someone else for once. I want to wrap my daughter in my arms and run away from this mess. I want to hide her from the ugliness touching her. I want to protect her like a mother should.
“They mentioned that,” I say quietly. “They said if it hasn’t spread, they might just try to remove it in one piece. We have to wait and see.”
“When will they know?”
“On Monday.”
His eyes go wide. “We have to wait all weekend? Shouldn’t they be doing something now?”
My phone rings and we both jump. He grabs it off the table where I dropped it earlier and hands it to me. I answer without even looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Everleigh woke up and wants to come home. I told her I’d call—”
“I’ll come and get her.”
“No, sweetheart. I’ll bring her over. You’ve had a mess of a day.”
A lump forms in my throat as I hear her disconnect the call. “That was Olivia,” I say to Crew, who’s watching me like a hawk. “She’s bringing Ever home.”
He stands and paces a circle. He pulls his hat over his head and then removes it again. I stand, too, and watch him, feeling completely defeated. Crew is at the door before I can register the sound of someone knocking. I hear his voice and Olivia’s, then the sound of the door closing again. He walks through the room, my daughter lying in his arms. He has her pulled to his chest, her black hair sprawled across his left shoulder.
He presses his lips together and looks at me. I walk to them and touch Ever’s cheek. Her eyes are closed but she smiles.
“I’m so sleepy, Mommy.”
“Come here and I’ll put you to bed.” I start to take her out of Crew’s arms, but he doesn’t relent.
He gives me a sad smile. He squeezes the blanket wrapped around Everleigh. He clears his throat and says gently, “I’ll lay her down. Wash your face and get something to eat.”
He takes Ever to her room and I let myself cry again. I want to chase them in there and squeeze my daughter; every minute seems so precious right now. I know as much as I want to, I can’t go in there bawling. She’s finally resting and needs her strength.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that I don’t know anything for sure. The doctors could be wrong, just like Crew says they were wrong about his injury. And I can’t let Everleigh see me like this. It’ll scare her and I’m scared enough for both of us. I am her mother, her safe place. I have to be strong for her so I can carry us both through this.