I took in a breath. “And there’s something else.”
Weird how you can literally feel a person brace themselves, even over the phone. When he spoke next, his voice was low, steady. “Okay. What is it?”
I pulled the phone a little farther. The cord was insanely long, enough that I actually could step outside onto the front porch. “Mom,” I said, realizing only afterward how scared I’d been to say it out loud. “I think she’s sick.”
“Sick?”
As I heard him moving around, getting to a place he couldtalk, I sat down on the steps. It was just starting to get light now, the sky pink over the water.
“Okay,” he said a moment later. “Now, what’s this?”
I told him what I knew: the medical forms, the treatment protocol, how I hadn’t known how to even react. He listened, not interrupting even as I heard Leo start babbling nearby. I kept my voice low, worried my mom might overhear. It felt good to get it out. A secret like that was so heavy.
When I finished, he was quiet for a moment. “Okay, so the thing about your mom… she’s very private.”
An understatement. “I know.”
“So I don’t think you should mention this yet,” he told me. “If she wants to tell you, she will. Otherwise you only have a few more days. We can figure out a better plan once you’re home. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Love you, Fin.”
“Love you, too.”
The latch on the door sounded: Lana was coming out the door behind me, moving fast. She barely gave me a glance as she hurried down the stairs, where she dropped her flip-flops on the grass, stepping into them before heading down the driveway. Before long she was out of sight. When I got back to the living room, the couch was once again covered, the blanket folded neatly nearby.
I tried to go back to sleep. But after a while, my stomach’s growling made it impossible. I needed more than bread. Finally, I gathered my shoes, washed my face, and pulled my hair backin a topknot. Then I found a piece of gum in my purse, grateful for any sustenance, and popped it into my mouth before starting toward the Egg. I was trying to catch my breath after a particularly steep hill when I heard the truck coming up behind me.
Kasey was behind the wheel, a huge bucket of cut flowers in the seat beside her. “Hey,” she said, peering at me through the open window. “Where you headed?”
“The Egg,” I told her.
“Me too. Hop in.”
I went around the truck as she pulled the bucket closer, making space for me on the seat. Still, as I slid in, a hydrangea bloom poked me right in the face. “Sorry,” she said as I pulled my door shut.
“It’s fine.” I told her. “I was in your garden yesterday. It’s amazing.”
“Thank you. It’s a labor of love.” She smiled, bumping over another tree root. “Emphasis on the labor.”
A white flower brushed my arm, releasing a heavy fragrance. “You making more bouquets?”
“It’s my side hustle,” she explained. “Cardoon was low on florists and I needed money. Rich tourists love an arrangement in a jam jar. Everyone wins.”
I looked over at her. She had on a white tank and rolled-up jeans, short black work boots on her feet. “You do thatandrun the restaurant?”
“Yep.” She slowed, maneuvering around a root. “Pays the bills. Mostly. Oh boy. He’s already here.”
She was looking ahead, at the Egg. A van was parked infront.THE TIDES,it said on the side.UPSCALE AND DOWN HOME. The doors flipped open and people began to get off.
“The Tides?” I asked, as we bumped over a final root and out onto the road. Which we shot across so fast, I had to grab the handle over my window.
“Another idea to goose the business. Subcontracting breakfast.” We pulled into the lot. A few people, mostly older, had gone in so far, while a guy with jet-black hair wearing a bright white uniform stood by the van, waving more off. Kasey pulled up right beside him.
“Good morning, good morning,” he was saying. “Right inside, take any open table you want.”
“How many?” Kasey said.
