Page 116 of When the Smoke Clears

“How long?” Mom whispers, frantically wiping her tears as her tissue disintegrates in her hand.

“It’s hard to say for sure,” the doctor says. “Maybe a day or two.”

Mom buckles at the waist on a sob. I catch her, pulling her into me while giving the doctor a sad smile and an easy nod.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Everleigh

“Hey, Mom,” I answer my phone on speaker after getting out of the shower.

“Hi, babe. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Oh.” I remove the towel from my head and finger comb my hair. “Sorry. I’ve been busy with my barndo and distracted by other things. I should have called.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I know it’s your lunch time and you have lots of patients who need you more than I do.”

“Mom.” I laugh. “What’s up with the guilt trip today? You know I’m here for you. And I’m not working today. Since there’s a new doctor at the clinic, I took the week off to get things done.”

“Then I don’t want to keep you from—”

“Mom. I’m serious, stop this. I have time to talk. I’m bummed we’re not getting to spend Thanksgiving together, but I hope you get your top-secret commission project finished.”

“Ugh, I’m so uninspired,” she sighs.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. If you’re busy cutting wood and stuff, I can call you later.”

“I have time for you. I’m actually not in Missoula. I’m in Somers visiting Will and his mom. They went to see his dad, so I headed to the nearest trail with steep hills. I just got out of the shower.”

“Everleigh, you’re visiting Will and his dying father?”

I swallow and smile as if she can see me. “I’m visiting Will and his mother. They are visiting his father.”

“Everleigh, are you”—she clears her throat—“okay with this?”

“I’m fine.” I pull on my underwear and jeans.

“I’m just worried about you. It’s been a while since we’ve discussed—”

“I’m not seventeen anymore with a crush on a firefighter who doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

“I think I forgot to mention I got offered a job at Johns Hopkins,” I say, desperate to change the subject.

I’m fine. She’ll see.

“What? That’s amazing! When?”

“Well, I have to decide soon.” I slide on a pink cashmere sweater.

“Decision? You make it sound like there’s a decision. It’s Johns Hopkins.”

“Yes. It’s a great offer with everything I could want, but I bought land, and I have an established practice in Missoula. I have patients who travel long distances just to see me. It’s not an easy decision to abandon them.”

“You’re not abandoning them. It’s not like someone won’t take over their care.”