Page 37 of Spit Screen

“You’re feeling all right?”

I had thought Addy would have the strongest reaction to the news about my cancer. She was floored and frightened, but Addison remained calm—at least she did outwardly. My mother struggled. She tried to hide it from me, but her hands trembled when I gave her the news. I know she wanted to be my greatest support, but I also understand the mere thought of losing a child is unbearable. My cousin, Rick, died when he was thirty-nine from a rare form of blood cancer. It shook our family. I think the ghosts of her experience linger for my mom.

“Mom, I’m fine. Honestly. Clean bill of health.”

Mom nods.

I reach over and take her hand. There are a few things I still haven’t told my mother. That’s unusual. But I needed time to process everything, and this was one journey I kept as private as I could, turning to Addy for support and comfort—something that has strengthened our marriage more than I might have imagined.

“I never told you this, but a few months before I found out about my cancer, Addy and I talked about having another baby.”

“Oh, Emmie.”

“It’s okay. We hadn’t decided to try.”

“But you wanted to,” Mom says.

“I would have if Addy agreed—yes.”

“Emmie. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I guess I needed to work through my new reality. I’m not even sure we would have chosen that path, Mom. Having the choice taken from me was hard—more than I thought it would be.”

“I can imagine.” Mom sips her coffee silently and then sets down her cup. “There’s something else on your mind,” she says.

“Addy wrote a pilot script for a new series.”

“Would it be presumptuous for me to assume this is something for you?”

“It is,” I reply.

“Missing California?”

“More like I’m missing a part of myself,” I say. “And we all miss Tam and Christie.”

“When do you think you’ll make the move?”

“You don’t seem surprised,” I observe.

“I’m not. I’ve wondered when you two would move back to LA.”

“Well, then, this might surprise you.”

“What?”

“If we make a move, it won’t be back to Los Angeles. It will be to the East Coast.”

Mom flops backward in her chair and stares at me.

“Told you it might surprise you.”

“Where?”

“Well, I don’t know where we would live. I think the show is likely to film in New York.” Seeing my mother’s unspoken questions, I continue. “Christie landed a part on a new series in Boston.”

“Boston?”

“Mm-hm. She’s the lead—a detective.”

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