The Sandbar Sisters talked about nearly everything under the sun. They kicked around the idea of a film festival. Hope raved about how well Keith’s son was doing at the restaurant. J.J. pushed back against the suggestion that she open a salon at the other end of Green Street and they all brainstormed what type of retail would work long-term in the center space.
They also giggled, like they did when they were girls, over Joe,Keith, and Greg. All of them were in the throes of a new romance, which was just as fun as back when they were girls. There wasn’t a better place on earth, Goldie decided. Nor better people.
She had a contract to sign for a movie to be shot in Toronto this winter. She had three lovely books to read to consider for rights acquisition. And she had a hotel to fix up. All of it glorious. All of it exactly what she wanted to be doing.
She took another bite of the bread that Hope had brought. It was warm and fluffy, and completely divine. She realized, for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, Goldie was full.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Viv, Two Months Later
Viv knew the phone call wasn’t a good one.
It had come so soon after the tests. That meant it was urgent.
Urgent wasn’t good.
She’d acted as though she had no inkling of what was to come on the drive to the hospital. She knew Siena was nervous enough for both of them.
Why make the possible last normal moments they shared weird by bringing on the gloom that could very likely settle over their lives? She knew the drive home would be different. At least now, in this space, she could pretend she didn’t know.
The leaves were turning. She usually loved autumn. Would she hate autumn now? Is that how it worked? If they put a song on the radio right now, would they then always be sad when they heard that song?
They kept the radio off.
She appreciated her daughter more than ever at this moment. Her daughter was so smart, thoughtful, and calm. Well, outwardlycalm. Siena chatted about colors for the new scarves and a pallet for spring dresses. Viv knew this was Siena’s way of coping with the weight of whatever came next. Siena was a grown-up. How had that happened?
Her daughter was beautiful inside and out. She had Goldie’s smile. When Siena flashed a smile, it dazzled. That was pure Goldie Hayes. But Siena was longer, her coloring darker than Goldie’s. She was her own gorgeous creature.
Viv passed the time in the car thinking about changing leaves and memorizing her daughter’s face. They arrived at the hospital, and her nerves were manageable. She wasn’t exactly calm, but she was okay.
They walked to the office, meandered really. No need to rush this news.
Viv and Siena sat in chairs across from Dr. Hinkley. She’d seen Dr. Hinkley since they’d moved here. That had to be twenty years now. Twenty years ago, when Siena was a toddler. Maybe Viv should have called Bret, had him come with her.
Bret was her ex-husband, but her closest friend—well, really, still family. Was it unfair to lean on her girl for this?
She didn’t know what was right. Bret maybe would have forgotten to ask the right questions. Siena would ask the right questions. They’d come out of here with an exact picture of what to do next.
Dr. Hinkley looked grim. Or maybe Viv was projecting her own state of mind onto her doctor. Maybe she was just serious. Viv didn’t trust her own perceptions. That was weird. Perceiving the world, and interpreting it, was art. She was an artist.
But right now, she was a woman with a lump in front of a doctor with the news.
“Okay, we’re here. We’re ready,” Viv said.
“Well, I suppose you’ve already guessed. The biopsy wasn’t what we’d hoped.”
Siena reached out a hand to her, and Viv took it. She squeezed.She was feeling okay, strong for the moment, strong enough to hear what she knew was coming next.
“It is cancer.”
It sank in for a second, that word. Every time a doctor called, she feared that cancer was the reason: oh hey, that headache is cancer, that cough, cancer, that funny lump in your breast, cancer.
And it never was until it is.
But cancer could be anything these days. It could be life or death. It wasn’t like with her mom. She squeezed out that memory. That wouldn’t serve her well right now. Viv was going to have to do a lot of visualizing. Positive visualizing would help. Conjuring memories of her mother’s worst days would hurt.
She took a deep breath and asked the question.
