Page 2 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

Her daughter pointed to her short, light brown pixie cut, which Sienna found adorable but Grace had deemed “absolutely atrocious,” quick to point out it was “easy for the one with luscious locks to say.”

Sienna didn’t care about her long, blonde hair. In fact, she found it quite annoying, but couldn’t find time to visit the salon for a hefty trim. She had shaved her hair after Grace’s had fallen out during her first round of chemotherapy—following her initial diagnosis five years ago—and hadn’t cut it since.

“You know, I could use a haircut,” she told Grace.

Sienna loved her daughter’s confidence—a loud, commanding voice, a beaming smile no matter where she went. But it hurt her mother heart that she was still so self-conscious about her hair—or lack thereof.

Grace narrowed her eyes. “Don’tget any ideas, especially right before we go. We’re going to be onTV,” she reminded her mother. “Don’t ruin that for me by shaving your head with Henry’s clippers like you did last time.”

Sienna reached for her mug, a splash of coffee dripping on the counter. “Your wig is in my bathroom. I washed, dried, and curled it when I got home last night.”

It had been less of last night and more of this morning because Sienna wasn’t able to close the bar until after two. But her only bartender, Emily, just had a baby, and as the owner, she filled in where needed.

“Thanks!” Grace beamed before spinning on her heel.

Wiping the mess with a paper towel, Sienna opened the trash again. The pamphlet had unfolded and, though creased, continued to taunt her.Serious disease, she scoffed in her head. Cancer was a mountain of serious disease, one that when Grace was initially diagnosed, Sienna had vowed to hack into pebbles with a chisel even if she had to hold it with her teeth. She would fight it one piece at a time. But every piece that broke off—blood draws, bone marrow aspirations, chemo inductions, infections, stem cell transplants—showed her that cancer was more than an illness.

It was a thief, a quiet one, taking small things, like the Fourth of July parade, a ballet recital, and bigger things, like a growth spurt, puberty, birthdays, and Christmases. Cancer and its accomplices carried off the will to believe, to hope, to dream. Silently and sneakily, they never stopped. Even when the words “disease free” flowed from the doctor’s mouth, cancer still stole your breath. And it held it while you waited and waited until you heard the word “recurrence.” Your breathing never returned to normal after that, each inhalation too short, too worried, too overwhelmed by what it took to parent a sick child.

Sienna knew this because it wasn’t her first rodeo.

Grace had been disease free from leukemia once before. Sienna learned from her daughter’s recurrence that the one thing she could never let this vicious disease take was her fierce determination to fight it. But cancer constantly found a way to one-up its opponent. Because even though Sienna would give Grace anything she could—from blood and platelets to all her energy—this was something her daughter had to fight entirely on her own, and that had to be the least fair thing in the entire world.

Grace’s voice squealed from the front of the house.

“The limo is here!” she announced. “Mom, come on. Are you ready?”

“A limo? Why did you ask for a limo?”

“Because it’smyday,” Grace proclaimed. “Henry! Let’s go.”

Sienna could hear her brother shuffling down the hallway. “Nice wheels, kid.”

“Kickoff isn’t until five. We have some time.” Sienna took a heavy swig of her coffee.

“I’m doing the coin toss!”

Hot liquid scalded her mouth, and she spit it back into the mug. “Thewhat?”

“The coin toss!” Grace repeated, returning to the kitchen. She reached for a pack of gum on the counter, pulling out a piece. “I’ll be on TV. I already texted everyone. Will you hurry? Icannotbe late!”

When Sienna had read the email from the Golden Penny Foundation, alerting her that Grace’s wish had been granted, she had been surprised for two reasons. The first being Sienna didn’t know Grace had even applied. And the second was Sienna knew that if Gracehadapplied, her wish certainly would have included some sort of meet and greet with whatever popstar she was currently obsessed with.

After Sienna read The Golden Penny Foundation’s email stating they would honor Grace’s wish to attend “in VIP style, as requested” the upcoming home game for the Dallas Sparks, instead of telling her daughter, she wrote the foundation back, explaining that there must be a mistake. Her daughter hated football—just like Sienna.

When she told Grace the news, Sienna expected her daughter to confirm that itwasa mistake, to be disappointed, and demand Sienna call them back. But instead of freaking out, Grace jumped on the bed.

“This will be the best day of my life!”

“Did you put her up to this?” Sienna asked Henry, leaving Grace’s room when she began to call all her friends.

Her brother shook his head, looking surprised. “Why would I do that? Basketball is my thing. But we get to sit in those boxes with the buffet and open bar. Could be kind of cool.”

“Kind of cool? We can watch a football game and eat at home.”

Henry stared curiously, his green eyes matching hers. “Walker still plays for the Sparks, you know.”

Sienna folded her arms across her chest defensively. “They’ve won one game all season, so he doesn’t play very well obviously. Maybe they shouldn’t renew his contract.”

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