by Kellie Bean
I can hear the screech of a chair scraping backward on the floor in the next room. There is officially zero chance that Rhiannon hasn't heard every word of this conversation. Since I didn't know about Reece's new project, I have to guess that she didn't either.
"Oh, well it's great," Sarah continues. "Just kind of a casual thing, but it's fun. It's cool seeing people I know online like this."
"Mmhmm." I'm trying so hard to focus on Sarah instead of rushing upstairs to step between two of my sisters before a fight breaks out.
They can figure this out on their own. I should mind my own business. Or at least stop defaulting to the peacemaker in every single argument that breaks out in my house.
Sarah pauses to take a sip of her water and I can hear voices rising from all the way up in the attic.
"Okay, so fair warning since you're about to find yourself in the middle of a Donovan showdown. Rhiannon might not be totally thrilled with the idea of Reece having her own channel. It was kind of Rhi's thing, and I'm guessing—"
"Why can't you come up with your own ideas!?" Bellows Rhiannon from above.
"—that she's going to feel a little less than thrilled about this." I finish my sentence.
Sarah covers her mouth, eyes wide with shock.
"Crap. I messed that up, didn't I? I didn't realize it was a secret."
"It's not. At least, it shouldn't have been. Not even a little bit your fault. You know Reece and Rhiannon, they're more likely to piss one another off than anyone else. And they also like to yell the most." I shrug.
"You're not going to go try and calm them down?"
"Nope. I'm busy right now. They can deal."
Something crashes from upstairs.
Crap, Aunt Grace was sleeping. Well, she probably isn't anymore.
I really don't want her to have to get up and get involved.
I don't know if Sarah can see the worry I'm feeling, but she offers a supportive smile just as her phone lights up. She glances down, so I do to. It's the guy she's been waiting to hear from. I'm a little surprised that she doesn't check it right away. She looks up, right back at me.
"I'm not going anywhere. If you need to go deal with family stuff, I totally get it. Zero hard feelings or anything. Besides, I've got something to keep me busy." She looks back down at her phone, blushing a little.
Reece and Rhiannon are so loud now that I'm pretty sure they're right at the top of the stairs from the second floor. Right in front of my bedroom. Dad's voice joins in, loud but not yelling.
Yet.
So much for him getting a chance to finish packing.
"You're sure?" I ask, unsure.
"Oh yeah. Go be a superhero. Otherwise I think your house might get burned down before your dad even leaves.” Sarah chuckles softly.
I'm a little afraid she might be right, so I take her up on the offer and bolt for the stairs.
Things are still tense by the next day after school. Last night, we only managed to get Reece and Rhiannon in the same room long enough for all of us to gather around the front door, waiting for dad's taxi, saying goodbye. We'd had our first phone call from him already by this morning. I'm pretty sure he and mom have been texting almost non-stop since he left.
Aunt Grace and I have volunteered to take the first crack at dinner. Although, it somehow looks like despite being around for a few decades longer than I have been, my aunt knows even less about cooking than I do. Neither one of us can figure out an actual meal from the wall of groceries we have to choose from.
"Okay..." Grace says, staring into the abyss along with me. "What's something your dad makes a lot? Maybe we can work backwards from that."
"Stir fry," I say automatically.
We have it almost once a week, although the mixture of food is always a little different.
"Great! What's in that?"
I raise my eyebrows, trying to work out if she's serious. She only shrugs.
"Umm, rice, vegetables and usually a meat that he adds after I've taken my portion."
It's a start.
I pull out the vegetables with ease. It's only once I find the tray of chicken breasts that I start having serious reservations. I don't even want to touch it. The chunks of flesh inside are enough to send my stomach reeling.
"Yeah, there's no chance I'm cooking that." I take a step backward so Grace can move in front of me.
"Totally fair. Tell you what, you start chopping all of this and I'll Google how to cook chicken."
"You don't know how to cook chicken?"
"Do you?"
"Touché. Sort of. Okay...not really. Whatever. We're in this now, so we'll make it work. Seriously though, how have you managed to survive this long?"
Grace laughs and for the first time, the sound reminds me of my dad's usual chuckle.
"The trick is to know all the best restaurants in every town you go to. Also, to find someone who likes to cook and keep them as close as possible..." Her voice trails off, a little wistful.
"Grannie is a good cook, right?"
Aunt Grace smiles.
"She's great. That woman can do anything with a potato. She prides herself on knowing more salad recipes than anyone she knows."
"Sounds like my kind of woman. Maybe I can get her to show me a thing or two when she's here so I'm not completely lost next year."
"Next year, you’ll discover the joy of the dining hall. More food options than you actually want, all there whenever you want it. It's kind of magic."
Still a little nervous about discovering that particular kind of magic for myself, I start moving the vegetables we'll need over to the table, not sure if I have too much or not enough. Aunt Grace sets to work heating the oven and prepping the chicken, while I do my best not to look.
For a few minutes, I get lost in the rhythmic sound of chopping carrots into smaller pieces when Molly starts barking from the front of the house. In the gaps between her yips, the sound of the garage opening rumbles through the house.
Mom's home.
I move the carrots into the skillet on the stove, getting to work on the broccoli. A minute later, mom walks in with Molly right behind her.
"I miss him," she declares as soon she she reaches the counter, dropping her keys in their usual spot. "It's only been a day and I miss him."
Mom is looking directly at Aunt Grace.I'm pretty sure she doesn't even realize I'm in the room. So rather than let things get awkward, I jump in.
"Me too. Also, his cooking."
Mom does a quick double take, then laughs.
"Agreed. You two seem to have things in order though."
"I suggest you withhold judgement until actually trying some," Aunt Grace says. "This is a first attempt, and food poisoning isn't completely out of the question."
Mom wrinkles her nose a little.
"I'm sure it will be fine. You’re in charge of this operation, right?" Mom is now looking at me.
Mom has known Grace a long time, so she’s probably aware of her culinary credentials.
"Sure. For whatever that's worth."
"Well, I'll leave you two to it then. I think I'm going to go call your dad. Make sure he's settling in okay. Any idea what time dinner will be?"
The look on my face is probably a little incredulous.
"When we know, you'll know."
By the time dinner is finished, no one has died or run to the bathroom to throw up the contents of their stomach, so I guess I'll call that a win.
I cooked something! How about that?
"How would you girls feel about going to Richmond for Thanksgiving?" Mom blurts out randomly as we all start clearing the table. "I was thinking we could drive down for the long weekend, see some old friends and see your dad for the holiday."
"He'll be home like a week after that," Rhiannon points out.
"I know," she sighs. "I still think it might be nice."
Okay, that's kind of sweet.
It's rare to see my mom like this, but it's getting more and m
ore obvious just how weird she feels being away from Dad. The two of them have been married for almost twenty years now.
"I'm going to look into it," she finishes before anyone else has jumped in with an opinion.
"Sure," I say, not totally hating the idea of a visit back to where we used to live.
In the last month, I've made a point of reaching out to the people who used to be my best friends there, not willing to lose touch completely. Actually, seeing them would be kind of great.
"You'd be more than welcome to come too," Mom says to Aunt Grace, like she's already made up her mind. "We'll rent a hotel suite, eat out for Thanksgiving so no one has to cook. It'll be nice."
"Thanks." She smiles. "I'm not sure if I'm up for a long trip right now, but let's see what the plan is and go from there."
"Oh, right. Of course." Mom's smile falters as she loads the dishwasher. I can already see the worry lines forming around her eyes. Going to see Dad might mean leaving Aunt Grace behind.
It's possible this idea will just turn into a fleeting oneas Mom gets used to the idea of a home without Dad in it for a few weeks.
It’s possible, but not likely.
When my mom gets an idea in her head, she latches on like a fishhook. Whatever it is she wants to happen will stay in the back of her mind for a matter of days or weeks, sometimes only hours before she finds a way to make it a reality.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"I can't come," Grace announces from the hall as soon as she comes in the front door a few days later. Rosie and I are in the living room, sprawled out on the couch. Close, but not close enough to make my family uncomfortable.
"You're not coming to Virginia?" I ask to clarify.
"Not this time. It looks like I'll be starting a new round of treatment in about a week. I’ll probably feel pretty rough for a few weeks after that. My doctor doesn't think I should be travelling, even if it's just by car."
Mom hasn't booked anything yet, but I’ve seen her scrolling through hotel listings every day since she first brought up the idea. Grace doesn't come into the room or explain further. Instead, she heads upstairs without another glance.
I sit up a little, my eyes still following her.
"Another round of treatment. What do you think that means?" I ask Rosie.
"I don't know. There's no way you can know. Don't let your imagination get ahead of you on this. We knew she still had cancer, now there's a plan in place to keep fighting it. That's good."
I nod slowly, not sure what I believe.
"Yeah, okay."
"You want to go talk to her, don't you?"
"Maybe. I don't want to bug her though." My butt stays firmly planted on the couch.
"I'm sure she won't see it that way. She said you could ask questions, right?"
"Still, whatever this is, it's new. She might need time to deal with it. So, you were saying something about—"
"Nope. You're not going to be able to focus until you deal with this. Go upstairs, see what's going on. You can always ask if she's okay to talk and if she's not, no harm done."
Increasingly uncomfortable, I wiggle around a bit in my seat, trying to talk myself into staying put.
The topic of Grace's cancer has been pushed aside with everything else going on. It's always there, in her body and in my thoughts. But, it’s stopped being the elephant in every room, which is probably a good thing.
Now that it's been brought up again, I can't not think about it.
Rosie reaches over to squeeze my hand. "Go."
"Fine," I say, like I'm doing her some kind of favor by listening to her advice.
My mouth clamps shut on the words ‘I love you’, before I leave the room. Every time I see Rosie, it's getting harder and harder not to say the words by accident. Every time I open my mouth to stay them on purpose, something else comes out instead. The timing just never feels right. Or maybe I'm being a giant wimp.
I don't make it to my room before I spot Aunt Grace and my mom, they’re talking at the end of the hallway.
"Hey," I say, announcing myself. "Everything okay?"
They both bob their heads up and down at the same time.
"Just readjusting plans," Mom says. "It doesn't look like your Aunt will be able to make the trip with us.I'm not loving the idea of just leaving her behind, so we might reschedule."
I hadn't realized that this trip was technically scheduled yet anywhere but in my mom's head. It's clear she's disappointed.
"No. Absolutely not." Aunt Grace folds her arms in front of her chest, looking more like a stern parent than I've ever seen her. "Your life doesn't stop because mine has gotten harder. Not going to happen."
"Grace, I'm not comfortable with you living alone right now. If you were at home or somewhere out on your own, I would be literally sending people to your door just to make sure you don't need anything. You're here with your family. We're going to look out for you."
Mom reaches over and gives Aunt Grace's arm a gentle squeeze.
Did I miss something?
Both of the women standing in front of me look like they're hurting, or at least disappointed and unsure.
This time there's an easy solution, a way that I can help.
"I'll stay here with Grace. We'll have a Thanksgiving of TV dinners and reruns, it'll be great." The plan comes easily.
I miss Dad too,but seeing him a few days earlier isn't going to make a difference. Maybe we could even do Thanksgiving dinner with Rosie and her mom.
"You don't have to do that," Mom and Grace say at the same time.
I swear, they're operating off the same playbook today.
"I want to. Actually, I think it'll be fun. Aunt Grace will have some company." I smile.
Someone to watch out for her too, I add silently.
“You get your trip and at the same time, Dad doesn't have to have Thanksgiving by himself. It's a win-win. Or win-win-win. We'll be fine on our own." I direct the last part to mom, waiting to see how she responds.
I know it's a long shot. It's one thing to be without Dad, so I know Mom's not going to be in love with the idea of leaving one of her teenagers behind with no parents at all. It's not like I won't have an adult there. Sure, Aunt Grace can't cook and hasn't won any awards for most stable human, but between the two of us, we can manage.
"Aunt Grace, what do you think?" I ask.
"I love the idea. I’ll only agree if Reilly's not just doing it because she thinks it will help us. You have to really want to spend time with your boring old aunt."
"I don’t think anyone's ever accused you of being boring in your life," I point out. "That said, I'm in if you are."
I look to Mom, knowing the final decision is hers.
"Let me talk to your Dad. I'm not ruling it out. I should probably talk to your sisters too. If it's optional for you, it should be for them. We'll see." She's smiling and nodding, so I'm already optimistic even if I'm trying not to get my hopes up.
It's rare for me to get to hang out one-on-one with any of my family who don't actually live in my house. Even though we're closer with Grace than any of our grandparents or Mom's sister and her family, I still think this could be really awesome. I'm already kind of rooting for all of my sisters to decide to go to Richmond, rather than stay behind.
By bed time, everyone has been given their choice and has a few days to decide, leaving me to wait and see. I still love the idea of a joint Thanksgiving proposed by Rosie, who loved it. She and her mom were already going to be eating together at Lizzie's, so the diner could stay open and less of the staff would have to come in. While there's really nothing stopping Grace and I—and possibly some of my sisters—from getting our own table, I love the idea of all of us eating together like one big, unconventional family. Maybe we can even video chat Mom and Dad in at some point to say hello. It won't be normal by any stretch, but it'll be memorable.
A week later, the decisions have been made and the hotel booked. Everyone is counting down to their big T
hanksgiving plans. Mom, Reece and Rhiannon will all make the trip to Richmond, leaving on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, so they’ll have time to drive and still enjoy the actual holiday. No one is looking forward to driving that far, but it will cost a lot less than having to buy three return train tickets.
Dad was ecstatic about the whole idea. He's always loved Thanksgiving, so the timing is perfect. He's loving teaching his classes again. It sounds like being busy has been good for him, but his nights being slow, even boring.
Reagan managed to talk Mom into letting her go with Kent out to his Dad's for Thanksgiving. I don't think she ever would have gotten up the nerve to ask, if we hadn't already been rearranging things. Somehow, she gets our parents to say yes. It takes a lot of begging and an hour long phone call between Mom and Kent's dad, who we've only met a couple of times since he lives a couple hours away now, to get it all set. She even gets to take two whole days off of school, since Kent's dad is coming to get him on Tuesday, and there won't be anyone here left to drive Reagan later.
I however, will be going to classes all the way up until the Thanksgiving holiday. Which is easily for the best, since Mrs. Orshun has decided the day before a long weekend is the perfect time to give her midterm, saying she's doing us all a favor by getting it out of the way.
Maybe I'll feel like that later. So as I cram for yet another test, I'm looking forward to some time off more than anything else in the world. At least at the end of all of this, Aunt Grace and I will get our solo weekend full of movies, naps and more snacks than we can handle. I may be doing more of the snacking though, while Aunt Grace takes charge of the naps.
Throughout November, it's been hard to miss just how much she's slowing down with sleeping more and eating less, as her new treatment regimen takes its toll.
Looking for any excuse not to read the same pages of notes over again for the third time, I reach across the desk to grab my phone. I've tried hiding it from myself, making it harder to get to so it won't distract me, yet it still manages to end up back in my hands at least once an hour.
Even before I have a chance to read it, the latest text from Rosie makes me smile. We've barely seen each other over the last few weeks as school has only gotten more intense. The pressure to keep grades up,finish college essays and applications on time whilstnot letting any extra curriculars fall away, continues to increase.
