“Thanks, Rem,” I said, starting to cry again. “You’re such a good friend.”
He tsk-tsked again, looking at me pitifully. “Oh, sugar,” he said, then left, closing the door behind him. I waited for a few beats, took a long breath, dried my tears as best I could and stepped out of the closet. I made a beeline to the front desk to find Dr. Lucia to be excused. I could see the concern etched in his features when he saw my face, but he didn’t push it. He merely nodded.
“Take whatever time you need. Let me know if I can help.”
I moved like a zombie as I gathered my things and made my way home, head still swimming with confusion, with unrelenting fear. I didn’t know what to do now or where to go from here, and that thought terrified me. What would happen to my mother? What would happen to me? Could I survive without her love? Her kindness? Her wisdom? It seemed unlikely. My mother had been my rock my entire life, the angel to lead me down the path of good after my sperm donor bailed on the two of us the day before my fifth birthday. It had always been just us after that, the two of us and nobody else, and that’s how I liked it.
Until I graduated from school and moved out of Eagle River and into the city. I was less than an hour away from my mother’s house, but I hadn’t even been over to visit in months. Actually, make that a year, maybe even more. Every time I’d met up with my mother in the last couple of years, it had been her coming here.
So, what would happen now? Would I have to move back to the town that broke me, the town where my father walked out on us, and the town where I’d experienced my first heartbreak … from my first love? Could I face it now? Because I certainly couldn’t before.
Pulling up to the quaint little house Remington and I rented together downtown, I turned off the engine and rested my head forward, balancing it on the steering wheel as the pain in my head seemed to claim a new low and began to throb.
A tear slipped out from my eyes, and then another. But before I could lose myself in the sadness and guilt, I wiped my eyes and got out of the car. I shivered a bit in the Colorado fall air as I jogged up to the door and went inside, relishing the cute little cottage's warmth.
Going to the kitchen for a glass of wine, I poured myself a drink and then sat down on the couch to wait for Rem to get home, tucking my feet beneath me. I pulled a heavy throw over my lap for extra warmth. I looked at my phone, my finger hovering over the call button as I considered once more getting a hold of my mother. But, even as my thumb swiped across the screen, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet, not until I’d figured out what to do. If I talked to my mom again on the phone, I might start crying and never stop.
Remington arrived home soon after I did, and in his hands was a plastic takeout bag from our favorite Chinese place down the road. He held it up and smiled at me with pity.
“I got your favorite.”
“What did I ever do to deserve you?” I asked as Rem handed me my takeout containers and a spork before sitting beside me on the couch. He huddled into me with the extra warmth and support he knew I needed.
“Okay,” he said, digging into a container of shrimp-fried rice. “Tell me everything.”
And so I did. I told him exactly what happened in the supply closet; my mother crying, and Dr. Hudson, the oncologist, getting on the phone with me to break the news. How my mother was scheduled for surgery … tomorrow.
“He thinks I should be there,” I said, poking at my Chow Mein halfheartedly. “For my mom, while she’s going through this.”
“And what do you think?” Rem asked.
I shrugged, setting the container aside briefly to take another drink of wine. “I think it’s obvious what I have to do. I would never in a million years deny my mother this. She singlehandedly raised me to be the best woman I can be, and I owe her everything.”
“No one would ever think that you wouldn’t,” said Rem, getting up to go to the kitchen for the rest of the wine and another glass. “But what about you, Peyton? This will put your entire life on hold, and depending on how things go with treatment, it could be … indefinite.”
I set my glass back down and picked up the noodles again to try and choke some down. “It doesn’t matter,” I said softly, ignoring the voice that screamed in the back of my head, warning me. “I would move mountains for my mom, Rem. I just—I need to be there now. Whether it’s for a couple of days, weeks, or even months, it doesn’t matter. I just need to be there. I just—” with a sigh, I looked around pointedly at our cute little home, then back at Remington. “—I just don’t know what to do now. Quit my job? Leave you high and dry while I run off?”
“Sugar,” said Rem, taking the box of noodles from me to set them aside. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Make a short-temp plan and gauge where you’re at after that. Talk to Dr. Lucia and see if you can take some PTO. They really love you there, you know.”
I nodded in agreement with a grin that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “I’ll keep paying rent here,” I said. “For a few months, okay? Knowing my mom, she’ll get sick of me after a few weeks, and I’ll get to come home. Dr. Hudson said that even at her stage, it could be treatable, especially because of her age. Maybe—maybe she’ll be okay.”
“Of course she’ll be okay, sugar,” said Remington, reaching over to take my hand with a gentle squeeze. “Because she has you.”
I swallowed the painful lump in my throat and looked away from him at the wall. “Thanks, Rem.”
“Now,” he said, clapping his hands together once as his gaze stayed steadily on me. “As your self-proclaimed best friend, I obviously remember you telling me about a certainboyback in Eagle River who just so happened to be your first one true love—”
“And my first true heartbreak,” I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest haughtily. “Screw that asshole.”
“But you did,” teased Remington. “And according to the story you told me, you liked it.”
I dropped my head into my hands, reeling. “After my mother’s news, and after the doctor told me that I should move home, do you know the first thing I thought of? Him. I thought of Korbin Butler, and I hate myself for that.”
“Don’t.” Remington rested a hand on my arm reassuringly. “This man was a huge part of your life for a long time. You loved him. Of course you have concerns about going back.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t entirely sure that it didn’t make me a bad person. Who gave a shit about Korbin Butler when my angel of a mother had just received this diagnosis? I was doing this for her, not for me, and especially not for Korbin.
“When will you leave?” Rem asked, refilling my wine glass and handing it to me.
