Duke is already on his phone, almost certainly looking up everything there is to know about heart failure. Ways to combat it. It's the problem solver in him. "It says there are medications?—"
"I'm already on them. Have been for a while. This diagnosis isn't new to me. Only to all of you."
"Mom," my dad says sharply. "How long have you known?"
"A while," she answers, firm. "And I don't want to hear a word about how I should've told you. It's my body and my future and I made my choice."
"Mom—"
"Now," she says, steamrolling him. "That news is only part of why I asked you all here today." She looks at us all in turn. "I have a request."
"Anything," Kerrigan says immediately. "Whatever you need. Right, everyone?" She looks around at us, brown eyes wide. The baby of the family again.
"Obviously," I answer. If Grandma said it was her dying wish for me to crab walk across the Sonoran desert in July, I'd do it.
Everyone around the table nods, except Dom. He looks uncomfortable, wary, like he wishes he could be somewhere else. I don't blame him. After this, he'll think twice about marrying someone in Vegas.
"Great," Grandma beams, clasping her hands together on the tabletop. "Because I already set it all up."
"What have you set up?" my dad asks. There is trepidation in his tone, the same way each one of us would sound if we'd asked the question.
"A road trip, starting next Monday. I can't play fast and loose with time right now. I no longer have that luxury." She nods decisively. "Three weeks in a luxury motor coach. Staying in hotels, cabins, and glamping in various places around Arizona." Grandma looks at each of us, a devious smirk tugging on her lips. "I want my whole family together. Under the same roof, so to speak."
"Are you sure?" My dad looks like he has a lot to say, but the good sense to swallow it down. "This is how you want to spend your..." He struggles for the words. "Your time?"
"No," she answers plainly. "Stuck with you all for days and days on end is not my idea of a good time. You're so dysfunctional someone should put you on reality TV. However." She glances at me before continuing, "You need it. Think of it as an intervention."
"Ophelia," my mother says, looking as if she's swallowed something that tastes bad. "You've found a vehicle large enough to comfortably fit the six of us?"
"Eight," Grandma corrects.
Mom and Dad share a concerned look. Dad gently says, "The five of us, and you."
Grandma shakes her head. "I've hired a death doula, and she's coming with us."
A fresh round of blank stares. Duke coughs into his fist. "A death doula is what, exactly?"
"Just what it sounds like. Rainbow will assist me in end-of-life matters."
Kerrigan, arguably the most woo-woo out of all of us, arches an eyebrow. "Your death doula's name is Rainbow?"
In total seriousness, Grandma replies, "Her mother almost certainly dropped acid. But yes, that's her name."
Duke speaks up. "That's still only seven people, Grandma. Not eight." His voice is thicker than usual. He's trying not to cry.
Grandma pins her gaze on the man beside me. "Dominic makes eight."
CHAPTER 12
Cecily
"I had no idea."It's the first thing I say the second I am alone with Dominic.
We're in the kitchen at my grandma's house. After her announcement and subsequent request, she sent Dominic and me in here to get drinks for everyone. Most likely, so she can lecture them about their behavior toward us and our marriage. My head is still reeling from her announcement. My heart is still splintering.
Dominic turns. Looks at me with bewilderment. "Of course you had no idea."
He sounds, well, not mad exactly, but something similar to it as he steps around the room opening cabinets, in search of the custom paneled fridge.
