But what if I’m not stronger than her?Olivia thought.What if I’ve only been pretending because I didn’t have any other choice? What else could Olivia have done—not taken care of her little sister? Not acted like everything was going to be okay when she was as scared as Marigold was? Just because Olivia had been forced to grow up quickly didn’t mean that she had superhuman powers.
It didn’t mean that this news wasn’t going to eat away at her heart bit by bit.
“Are you sure?” Olivia asked, unable to keep her voice from breaking. “What about that trial Jonathan mentioned? The one in Sweden?”
Lulu smiled sadly. “I’m not eligible for that now that it’s spread to my brain. It’s time to stop fighting and just enjoy the time I have left.”
Olivia had spent the past five years preparing herself for this moment. She’d imagined this conversation countless times so she’d be ready. Pre-grieving, her therapist had called it. But Dr. Hardy had been right—you couldn’t train your body to withstand pain like this.
“It’s okay, hon,” Lulu said, reaching across the cold marble counter to squeeze Olivia’s arm. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ve had enough adventures and seen enough beauty to fill ten lifetimes. This is a small price to pay for all the miracles I’ve experienced. Miracles like you and Marigold.”
Bill passed Olivia a tissue. She hadn’t realized she was crying.
“How long?” Olivia asked quietly.
“They don’t know. It could be a year. It could be less. But without all the chemo, I’m going to have a wonderful summer. I’ll be able to enjoy the wedding. And we’ll tell Marigold as soon as she gets back from her honeymoon—I promise.”
“She’ll never forgive me,” Olivia said, more to herself than to Lulu and Bill.
“Yes, she will,” Bill said firmly. “We’ll make it clear that this was all our idea, and that we made you promise to stay quiet. This isn’t on you.”
Olivia turned to Lulu. “But what if she doesn’t forgiveyou?”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. She deserves the chance to be a happy, carefree bride.”
There it was—the heart of the matter. They’d tie themselves in knots to protect Marigold and leave Olivia to carry the burden. It was habit at this point. She’d never said anything, never complained, so of course they’d assume she could handle it.
“I’m sorry, Livy,” Lulu said, as if reading her mind. “I know it’s not fair. But you’re different people. I knew you’dwantto know, hard as it is.”
“No, you’re right,” Olivia said, meaning it. “I do want to know.” She could handle the slow-growing rot festering in her stomach.
All that mattered was making this the best summer of her mother’s unfairly abridged life, whatever it took.
CHAPTER SEVENMarigold
Flying commercial wasn’t an option given the end-of-day deadline for the signed papers, so en route to the private airfield in Brunswick, Marigold called NetJets and booked a plane using Bill’s account. Miraculously, they’d had a late cancellation and she’d been able to confirm her flight to Nova Scotia. Bill had given them all access to his membership for emergencies, and while this wasn’t a matter of life or death, Marigold had a feeling he wouldn’t argue with her once the whole story came out later. After the wedding. Way after, ideally. She’d have to tell Jonathan the truth at some point as well. She’d called him from the boat and he’d immediately shifted into problem-solving mode: Did she want him to go to New York for her? Wasn’t there someone in the city who could bring it up? Why had the lawyer waited so long to file the paperwork? Did she want Jonathan to call Bruce? Marigold had felt terrible lying to him, but why upset him now, when it was all so close tobeing fixed? She’d tell him the whole story eventually, when the timing was better.
As the jet made its way up the Maine coast, Marigold stared out the window, thinking about her first and only other trip to the Canadian Maritimes.
She’d been on a yachting trip with her then-boyfriend, Jack Pemberton, and a bunch of his finance buddies. She hadn’t wanted to go in the first place; after eight months of dating, she’d had her fill of banker bro posturing. Jack was sweet on his own, but she couldn’t stand the way he acted around his friends, and the last thing she’d wanted was to spend a week sitting around while they got wasted and went spearfishing. Chances were high they’d end up accidentally impaling one another instead of the fish.
But Lulu and Bill had strongly encouraged her to go. Lulu had recently been diagnosed, and after weeks of sitting with her mother at chemo and running around the city on the hunt for whatever specialty food items Lulu thought she might be able to keep down, it’d been clear that Marigold needed a break. A distraction.
She’d been fond enough of Jack. He was attractive, if in a generic, conventional way, and she appreciated that they took each other at face value. He was handsome and rich enough to feel good about his place in the world and didn’t see Marigold as a trophy. He was happy just to have a good time with her. But on his yacht with his buddies, he lost his charm. At dinner the third night, the conversation turned to “the weight cutoff for fuckability.” Jack’s creepiest friend, Mikey, claimed that he’d never slept with a woman who weighed over 110 pounds, prompting Marigold to ask if he carried a scale around with him.
“I have an eye for it,” Mikey said, leering at Marigold. “I can guess any woman’s weight within five pounds. I’ve never been wrong.”
She snorted. “You’re full of shit. What kind of woman would let youweighher?”
“It’s true,” the sycophantic hanger-on Ryan had said, never one to miss a chance to ingratiate himself with the more powerful members of the crew. “I’ve seen him do it.”
“Bet I can do you,” Mikey said, eyeing Marigold up and down. “Let’s see… I probably need to account for the boob job. Silicone weighs more than you think. But you don’t really have an ass, so…”
With her skin crawling under Mikey’s hungry, lecherous gaze, Marigold turned to Jack. “I want him off the boat.Now.”
“Come on, relax. He’s just joking,” Jack said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Fine. Then I’ll leave.”
