Page 46 of Love Conquers All

July 17, 1982

Just returned from the doctor. After my test results said I was okay with pregnancy, they turned the focus on Wally and discovered something.

It’s cancer. Prostate. I thought he was too young for something like this.

I don’t know what to say to Wally. He’s asleep on the sofa, looking so peaceful, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again. I want to make this better. I want to go back in time.

August 22, 1982

We started Wally’s treatment today. Wally seems up and ready to beat it, and I want to put on a brave face and meet him where he is. But I secretly have to sneak off to cry and cry. Ever since I met Wally—we were eight years old when we first saw one another—I’ve known he was the one for me. I can’t imagine a better life than the one we have here in Rhode Island.

Wally’s best friend, James, came over after treatment and sat with Wally for a while. I listened to them exchange old stories and talk about the future. James is engaged to marry a girl I’ve never gotten along with, which I think is fitting since I’ve never liked James. He’s so egotistical and mean-spirited and dark.

But James loves Wally, and I know that has to be enough for me.

January 8, 1983

Wally’s in remission! We celebrated with a little family party, and we served all the food and drinks we could without breaking the bank. Wally’s bald and laughing about it, asking people to rub his head and make a wish. James came with his fiancée, and she and I talked a little bit in the kitchen. She told me that James is the kindest person she’s ever dated and that she feels like she can walk all over him. She’s the “master,” she said. This surprised me. I told her I never got that impression from James, and she said, “That’s because he was always in love with you, and he knew he could never have you.” I nearly fell over with surprise! James Bruckson loves me? He’s only ever been cruel to me. People are strange.

I’m so thrilled to have my Wally back. I can’t stop hugging and kissing him. I don’t even mind if we can’t have children. I just want to be with him forever.

Chapter Twenty-One

Present Day

By the time Graham reached his mother’s front porch, the swirling ice cream clouds in the mid-distance had begun to spit rain. He paused with his hand on the knob, watching as the sidewalk darkened and the grass shifted. The smell was pure spring: soil and pollen and bark.

“Hello?” Valerie’s voice came from the kitchen.

Graham followed it, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides. When he reached the kitchen, his mother snapped the spatula on the counter and hurried over to hug him. Worry stirred in her eyes.

“Where’s Sylvie?” she asked.

Graham was at a loss. Ever since the trip to Alabama, he’d been caught in the beautiful chaos of falling back in love with Sylvie. But at the same time, he’d been harboring a secret: Sylvie’s journalism award was a gift from the horrible minds at Next Generation Nantucket Designers. Why couldn’t he tell her?And why had the sight of that boarding school application ripped him in half?

“It’s okay, honey. Sit down.” Valerie hurried to put a kettle on the stove.

Graham knew he needed to explain himself. He listened to the bubbling hot water and his mother’s knife as she chopped onions for dinner. He knew she was disappointed that Sylvie hadn’t come.

And then he said, “I think it’s hard for Sylvie and I to be honest with one another.”

Valerie turned to look at him, the flash of the knife still poised above the onions. “That’s strange,” she said. “I always felt that the two of you could be honest with one another about everything.”

“We were children,” he offered. “Things get more and more complicated. And the past feels like this dark thing that keeps chasing us.”

Valerie nodded. “Were you and Hannah honest with each other?”

Graham’s heart skipped a beat. “Mostly. I’m sure we lied about a few little things here and there. I’m sure we lied to protect one another.”

Valerie poured the tea and placed a mug in front of Graham. Graham filled his lungs with steam and felt his anxiety filter off a bit.

“Sylvie and I found her mother’s diaries,” he said suddenly.

Valerie’s shoulders fell. “Oh. Oh dear.”

As he looked at his mother now, Graham’s curiosity spiked. There was something strange about her eyes, something that spoke of a history that she’d kept to herself.

“Mom?” Graham pressed it. “What do you mean?”

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