Page 97 of You're So Vine
“And Lee asked you to keep Debra a secret,” she says.
“Yup, again.”
“How did you feel about that?”
I sense a question under the question, but I’m not sure what it is. Best to answer honestly and go from there.
“Conflicted,” I tell her. “Lee didn’t share her reasons why. And sometimes secrets do more damage than good.”
Ava nods, but her smile seems to be all for herself.
Then her smile fades. “But you kept it anyway. Would you do anything Lee asked of you?”
And there it is. The question under the question.
“Lee’s never given me any cause not to trust her,” I reply, cautious but truthful. “And she’s done a lot for me with no thought of return. So, yes, I feel like I owe her. But I wouldn’t put her before you. Never.”
Ava pulls her knees up and hugs them.
“If it was Lee on her deathbed, you’d drop everything, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course,” I say. “Unless you were on your deathbed, too. Then, I don’t know… I guess I’d do a lot of running between wards.”
Ava buries the lower half of her face in her knees, but not so quick that I don’t catch her grin.
“It’s a big deal,” I say. “I truly hate running.”
Outside, a faint rumble signals Nate’s pick-up approaching. Ava sighs and hops off the chair.
“Show time,” she says. “Better get dressed.”
Between phone calls, neither of us has managed to pull on a full set of clothes. I ditch the coffee cups in the sink and move to Ava for a last embrace.
“Honestly,” I say, “if it wasn’t so cold out, I’d suggest we go like this. Everyone’s so stressed, they’ll never notice we’re half naked.”
Ava laughs and hugs me tight. “Nate will notice and he’s two minutes away from knocking on that door. If we’re not ready, he’ll stress even more. And then we’ve got to endure a forty-minute drive with stressed Nate to Martinburg.”
“Good point,” I say. “Let’s go fetch us some pants.”
ChapterThirty-Three
AVA
I’ve never been around anyone who’s dying before. Dad’s mom died suddenly of a brain aneurysm when he was only a kid (which could explain a lot) but Grandpa Durant is still fit as a fiddle at eighty-two, and Mom’s parents are spending their later years, and their kids’ inheritance, backpacking around the world. Last time we heard from them, they were contemplating climbing mountains in Patagonia, so unless they get caught in an avalanche, I’d say they’re good for a few more years yet.
Okay, so a couple of months back there was a possibility that Dad could die when he stubbornly refused surgery for his heart condition. But he finally saw sense and now he’s healthier than most men half his age. The last funeral I went to was our great-uncle Milton’s. I was fourteen and in the peak of my goth phase, and thus full of outrage that it was a closed coffin. Possibly why that was the last family funeral I can remember attending.
In short, I don’t know what to expect and there’s no opportunity to ask. The drive to Martinburg is dominated by Shelby on speaker phone to her siblings, the four of them coming up with ever-more outlandish theories as to why their mom’s kept her only sister a secret all these years. I see Nate’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, but he knows that the Armstrong kids need this chance to connect and vent, and the only faint sound of protest he makes is when Shelby’s brother Tyler suggests that Debra was stolen as a baby and brought up by her kidnappers, and it’s taken her this long to work out who she really is.
I nudge Cam, and whisper, “Do you know anything that could put them out of their misery?”
“Nope,” he whispers back. “Wish I did. Debra didn’t tell me any background details.”
As we pull into the hospice car park, Shelby finally lowers her phone and falls silent. Nate switches off the engine and reaches out to take her hand.
“There’s no way this isn’t going to be strange and sad,” he says to her. “So, it’s completely okay to feel both those things. But we’re here for you, Shel. And we love you.”
Shelby throws her arms around his neck, and I’m bracing for floods of tears. But all she does is squeeze her eyes shut hard, and then sit up again, ramrod straight, shoulders back and chest out.
