Page 113 of Sweet Ruin

“Of course not, I would never start our yearly Downton binge without you.” Mom smiled. “I mostly couldn’t sleep because I was too excited about you getting home today.”

“I’ve been pretty excited to get back too,” I admitted. “It’ll be nice to spend some time at home.”

“It will. It’s not the same here without you.”

“Nowhere’s the same without you, Mom.”

She reached across the car and took my hand. The way her eyes brightened at my words made me feel like she’d been truly touched by them.

“Now, tell me more about your trip,” she said.

“Well, you’ll be glad to hear I finally managed to drive without freaking out…” I launched into the story of my emergency dash to the hospital with Noah. Mom seemed more hung up on the way I spoke about Noah than my driving success though, and she kept sending me knowing looks. I decided not to tell her that he’d told me he loved me again. She’d want to know how I felt, and not even I knew the answer to that.

We arrived at the café in time for a late dinner, and I was pleased when mom told me Norma was finishing her shift early to join us. Frank also came, and it was so sweet to see how well he and Norma were getting along. They were so cute together, and it gave me hope that one day my love life might actually fall into place.

I didn’t bother unpacking after dinner. It was growing late, and I knew I’d have time to put my things away come morning. Mom and I were going to start our annualDownton Abbeytradition anyway. I put on a pair of cozy sweatpants and went to brush my teeth while Mom set up the TV. I couldn’t seem to find the toothpaste though.

“Mom, are you out of toothpaste?” I called out.

“I finished it this morning,” she shouted. “There’s a new tube in the cabinet above the sink. Maybe try the top shelf.”

I’d had a quick look in the cabinet before, but clearly, I’d been too tired because, when I checked again, the toothpaste was sitting right where she’d said. I went to grab the tube, but as I did, my attention snagged on a little white container sitting on the shelf beside it.

I normally would have ignored the bottle completely, but my father’s surname was written in large letters across the side of it. Why on earth would my mom have medicine made by The LaFleur Corporation?

I took the bottle off the shelf and turned it over in my hand. My mom’s name was on the prescription label along with instructions to take one tablet daily. It didn’t say what the tablets were for, but my stomach plummeted because my father didn’t produce run-of-the-mill pharmaceuticals. The focus of his treatments was cancer.

I rushed from the room, still clutching the little white bottle.

“Did you find it?” Mom asked. She was sitting in front of the TV, gettingDownton Abbeyup on screen.

“Mom, what are these?”

She turned to look at me, and the easy smile on her face dropped. She stood up and hurried over to me, snatching the container from my hand and shoving it in her pocket. “You weren’t supposed to see those.”

“Weren’t supposed to see? Mom, what are they?” It was hard to keep the fear and confusion from my voice.

"It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“It’s not nothing. I know the kind of drugs Matthew manufactures. Why do you have tablets that treat cancer?”

Her expression was torn, and when she didn’t answer immediately, my mind went straight to a very dark place. I knew something bad was coming, and I started to tremble. “Mom?”

“You better sit down…” She went to touch my arm, but I shook her off.

“I don’t want to sit down. I want you to explain.”

“Okay, okay.” She slowly blew out a breath. “I just want to start by saying you really don’t need to worry.”

I sank down onto the couch, no longer sure I could stand even if I wanted to. Her telling me there was nothing to be concerned about only made me more apprehensive.

“I’m fine,” she continued. “And I’m going to keep being fine.”

She wasn’t making me feel any better. Fine was the word you used when you were pretending everything was okay but it most definitely wasn’t. The word you used when you were in total denial. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” I said. Her cautious explanation was only making me fear the worst.

She took a deep breath and sat on the couch beside me before gathering my hands in hers. “I have thyroid cancer.”

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