“Come here.” I did as she’d asked and fell into her outstretched arms. For the longest time, it was me and her against the world, and then Nova joined us. We were all each other had.
After she released me, she kept her hand in mine. She looked at us, her children that she often referred to as the best thing to ever happen to her, and smiled a watery-eyed smile.
“Mommy, why are you crying?” Nova asked, her voice reverting to the soft baby tone she still sometimes used.
“I’m sad, my sweet girl.”
“How sick are you?” I finally asked, unable and unwilling to keep sitting here without knowing.
She let her tears fall. I wiped one cheek clear for her, and she whispered a thank-you.
“I have cancer.”
I didn’t need to ask her to repeat herself or to clarify. I’d heard her loud and clear. Her hand squeezed mine, and my gaze dropped as my own tears began clouding my vision. Behind me, Toni sobbed.
“What does that mean?” Nova asked. She was so innocent and not damaged by the world. At sixteen I shouldn’t have been, either, but I had friends who’d lost their grandparents to cancer and other diseases. Flinn lost his grandfather last year to stomach cancer, and he still told me all the time about how much he missed him.
“Mom is really sick, Nova.”
My mom’s eyes met mine, and then she looked at her little girl. “There are some bad things growing in my body, and I’m going to take a lot of medicine to fight them.”
“And you’ll get better?”
Mom nodded. “But I’m going to be sick sometimes and very tired.”
“Who’s going to get me off the bus?”
“Aunt Toni is going to stay with us for a while, and Grandma will be here all the time.”
“Grandpa too?” Nova asked.
Mom nodded. “Why don’t you go with Grandma to the cafeteria and get some pie? It’s really delicious.” She brought Nova into her arms and hugged her tightly. Nova crawled off the bed and went with Toni’s mom, leaving us alone.
“Why can’t I go get pie?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you without Nova in the room.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Are you ...” I paused and fought back the emotion bubbling within me. “Dying?”
Another sob came from Toni, but my eyes were solely on my mom. Tears streamed down her face, wetting her sweatshirt. She reached for me, but I kept my distance, needing her to answer me first.
“Are you?”
My mom nodded. The simple gesture broke something inside me, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I cried as a big wave of anguish engulfed me. Mom didn’t hesitate and wrapped her arms around me. I wanted to fight her off, to push her away, but I didn’t have any strength in my body. She tightened her hold as I collapsed against her, my own tears soaking the back of her sweatshirt while our sobs kept pace with one another. I was going to lose my mom. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.
We stayed like this for minutes, or maybe hours (time seemed insignificant in our grief), holding each other and rocking back and forth, crying into each other’s necks. I bubbled incoherent sentences filled with questions that she didn’t have answers to, all while she apologized and told me how much she loved me. I didn’t want to let go, out of fear that once I did, she’d slip away and be gone forever.
We finally parted, and she cupped my cheeks with her hands. Our hazel eyes matched until I was being moody, according to my mom. Then mine turned dark and intense.
“I’m going to fight,” she told me. “I’m going to be strong as long as I can and fight for every single day I can get with you and your sister. The doctors can’t cure this, but they can give us more time together. That’s what I’m fighting for. More time.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Leaving you and Nova is not an option for me. I’m not done being your mom.”
She ran her hand through my wavy hair and reminded me I needed to get it cut. She was right. My mom was always right.
We heard Nova before the door opened. I stood and walked over to the sink and wet a paper towel. After dabbing my face, I turned toward everyone. Nova smiled brightly as she pointed to a piece of pie and one of those small cartons of chocolate milk.
