Izzy
“Ma, go sit down. We’ll do this,” I said as she fussed with everything for the umpteenth time since I’d walked in the kitchen.
“I’m more than capable,” she told me, putting me right in my place with her tone that said “don’t fuck with me.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be kissing on your grandbabies?” Mia asked, trying to help.
“I’ll kiss them after we have dinner.”
My ma had been cooking Sunday dinner for longer than I could actually remember. I didn’t remember a time where she didn’t cook for the entire family. Even after she broke a bone or two—we won’t get into how that happened because I’m still traumatized—she still slaved away over the stove to put on a spread that would rival any Italian restaurant in the country.
Suzy sat at the island, tearing the already-washed lettuce into smaller pieces and tossing them into a bowl that was bigger than her head. Mia stirred the sauce, making sure it didn’t burn because there was nothing that made the men in our family grumpier than a few black flakes in their gravy. Max cut the few loaves of Italian bread into thick, meaty slices. And I took the lasagnas out of the oven so they could cool enough to be cut without falling apart.
As the family grew, the meals had gotten larger. Instead of cooking for a dozen people, now there were so many kids and additions that my parents’ kitchen was almost at capacity. If we had a few more kids, Ma would have to buy another oven to prep everything and get it on the table at the same time.
“Mar, come sit with me. Let’s talk about tomorrow,” Aunt Fran said before sipping her glass of red wine next to Suzy.
Fran was the watchdog of the group. She was the worst cook… Yes, even worse than Suzy, and that was saying something. I always thought they should test her DNA or revoke her Italian card because there was no way that shit couldn’t just rub off on her. But somehow, it didn’t. The only person in the family who could stomach her food was Bear, and that was because he wanted to keep her happy.
Ma smiled at my aunt and finally decided to sit because we had this down to a science. How could we not after over fifteen years of cooking this obscene feast?
“What time are you picking me up?” Ma grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself a hefty glass.
“Let’s say eleven.”
Suzy grunted as she tore the heart of the lettuce head apart and threw it in the bowl like it had somehow offended her. “Where are you ladies going?”
“I have some tests at the hospital.”
Dead fucking silence. All stirring stopped. All chatter evaporated. All movement ended. Every set of eyes in the room focused solely on my mother.
“For what?” I clutched my chest and tried to steady my breathing.
My mother had always been as healthy as a horse. But every year, I’d seen the time wearing on her as she got a few more wrinkles and a couple more gray hairs. I knew that time was ticking and that every day with my parents was a gift, but I was not ready for anything to happen to them. I didn’t know if I’d ever be.
“Just some routine tests. Mammogram and all that jazz.”
I slid my eyes to Mia because, as the doctor in the family, she could call bullshit faster than me, but I needed to get more information. “And you need a ride for that?”
“Well, no.” She lifted the wineglass to her lips and took a giant sip, letting the alcohol sit on her tongue so she didn’t have to speak.
“For fuck’s sake, Mar. Just tell them. They’re not kids.”
That was the point where my heart dropped. My mother was being shady, not wanting to answer the questions, and Aunt Fran’s comment that we weren’t kids told me it was bad.
“Fine,” Ma snarled at Fran, showing her anger that her secret was out. “The doctor wants me to have a biopsy on a spot they saw on my mammogram. It’s really no big deal, and chances are it’s nothing.”
I stumbled backward. The weight of her words hit me like a sledgehammer. “Do they think you have cancer?” It was a dumb question. They wouldn’t be sending her for a biopsy for anything else, but it felt so foreign it was the only thing that came to mind.
“It’s just routine. We’re trying to rule out cancer. You know how these things are. As we age, weird shit grows. It’s probably benign.”
“Cancer?” I asked again like I was stuck on stupid. I was, though. It was the last thing I thought I’d hear today. It wasn’t where I thought they were going when I heard them chatting about tomorrow earlier. I figured the two of them were going to Nordstrom’s to do some damage to their credit cards. Never in my wildest and darkest nightmares did I think they were making a date to go to the hospital to check my ma for cancer.
My hands shook and my lungs felt tight, like a giant weight had been placed on my chest. I blinked twice, staring at my mother, and felt tears filling my eyes.
Mia placed her hand on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “It’s okay, Izzy. Most of the time, the biopsy comes back benign.”
I glanced at Mia as I wiped my eyes. “Did you hear what you said? Most of the time.”
