"Do you need full-time care after the surgery?” I ask. “Are you going to hire at-home help?"
Mom looks at Dad and back at us.
"That's the tricky part,” Mom says. “I can help as much as I can, but there will be days when he will need a professional to be here. The recovery can be time-consuming."
"Okay," Ellie says warily, "why is it tricky? Can't the insurance cover it?"
Mom shakes her head and frowns. "It would be out of pocket. That was part of the reason we weren’t sure to go through with this. It’s a lot of money."
"How were we supposed to know that I was going to get cancer?” Dad says in a frustrated tone. “Kind of hard to plan that out with insurance once it happens."
"We'll figure something out, "Ellie replies, looking at me. "Won't we?"
"Yeah, we'll figure something out.” I tap my finger on my knee. I know this was Mr. Miller’s doing, and now I need to thank him when I get the chance. An idea springs up. “Maybe we can have a fundraiser? Kind of like what Ellie did with her baking when she signed up for the Taste ofDove Point last year? You did make a good chunk of change.”
Ellie slaps my arm.
“Ow,” I say, grabbing the spot she hit.
"That's a genius idea!"
"Okay, but you didn't need to hit me." I look at Mom and Dad in annoyance toward Ellie.
"You're fine." Ellie waves me off.
"Are you sure you want to do all of that?" Mom asks.
"A thousand percent. It's already decided that we're doing this. You guys won't lift a finger. August and I will do it ourselves. I'll get the others involved too. Riley and Hailey were so much help when they assisted me at the festival last year for Honey Cakes. Remember?"
I nod.
"We'll come up with ideas and then let you guys know."
"Thank you, I know you don't need to do this?—"
Ellie holds up a finger, cutting Dad off. "Don't say another word. You know how much I love fundraisers."
"You do have an odd passion for them," I mutter.
"Do you want to help Dad or not?" Ellie asks sternly.
"Of course, I do."
"Then don't say idiotic things," Ellie quips.
I deadpan and look away from her.
Mom gets up, laughing, and walks to the kitchen to get them something to eat. Dad returns to his reading.
Now is the moment I've been dreading.
"I need to talk to you," I tell Ellie.
“What's wrong? What did you do?”
"Well," I squeak out.
We're walkingto Ellie's house when I decide to tell her. I figure that being out in public is much safer than being behind closed doors.
